Month: October 2006


Sometimes I wonder if there are any other moms out there who face the same challenges I do.

Today, I have accomplished very little yet have been constantly “busy”. What is up with that? BUSY is an acronym for “Being Under Satan’s Yoke” – and boy, do I ever feel as if I am under that yoke when I don’t get anything done all day.

A run down of my day today….got up around 7:30 – I didn’t feel well, so I basically didn’t move until around 8:30 – after two cups of coffee and some tylenol had time to take effect. I sorted clothes out into three piles to wash, but before I could start them, Abby woke up and needed some milk. Then, as I was about to go back to the clothes, Katie decided to start her schoolwork and needed some supervision to start. AJ chimed in and was ready to eat, then Floy (who had the day off) needed something…you get the picture. Here I sit at 3:46 pm and although the dishes have been done, the laundry still sits in three piles in my dirty bathroom, the floors are still needing to be swept and mopped, the carpet still needs to be vacuumed, and I am STILL NOT EVEN DRESSED!!! I am braless in a tank top and sweats with greasy hair and no makeup…sigh. lol Please tell me that some of you other moms have had days like this!!!

Car Wash?

Remember as a kid, you just couldn’t pass by someone’s car without writing “wash me” on the window?

This guy has taken window art to a whole new level…

Did you Know?

On average, 100 people choke to death on ballpoint pens every year.

Butterflies taste with their feet.

More people are killed by donkeys annually than are killed in plane crashes.

In 1994, electromagnetic interference (EMI) from a nearby cellular telephone captivated the power of a wheelchair at a scenic vista in Colorado, sending the passenger over a cliff.

More people working in advertising died on the job in 1996 than those who died while working in petroleum refining.

Babies are born without knee caps. They don’t appear until the child reaches 2-6 years of age.

A cockroach will live nine days without its head, before it starves to death.

On average people fear spiders more than they do death.

Thirty-five percent of the people who use personal ads for dating are already married.

Elephants are the only mammals that can’t jump.

Only one person in two billion will live to be 116 or older.

It’s possible to lead a cow upstairs…but not downstairs.

Women blink nearly twice as much as men.

The Main Library at Indiana University sinks over an inch every year because when it was built, engineers failed to take into account the weight of all the books that would occupy the building.

Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears never stop growing.

Four sunken nuclear submarines sit at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. One, a Russian sub resting in deep water off of Bermuda, holds 16 live nuclear warheads. Scientists and oceanographers are unsure what the impact of the escaping plutonium will have, but warn that corrosion could create the proper chemical environment for a massive nuclear chain reaction.

The electric chair was invented by a dentist.

All polar bears are left handed..

An ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain.

TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.

“Go.” is the shortest complete sentence in the English language.

A crocodile cannot stick its tongue out.

In the 1990’s more than 30 people were axed, hanged, burned and mobbed to death in the United States for practicing witchcraft.

The average human eats eight spiders in their lifetime at night.

Unusual deaths have plagued the cast of the Poltergeist trilogy of films including 12-year-old actress Heather O’Rourke, who died of septic shock. The theory is that the set was cursed by evil.

A dragonfly has a lifespan of 24 hours.

Homeschooling With Dad…

Conversation I overheard between my nine year old daughter and her dad this evening as he was helping her understand some mathematical principles:

Dad: “You’ve got 1 Freaky = 2 Deaky’s; and 1 Deaky = 3/4 Artsy’s; and 1 Artsy = 5 Fartsy’s. Convert 23 Freaky’s to ____ Fartsy’s”

Daughter: “Um…mom doesn’t do it that way…I don’t get it.”

Dad repeats earlier sentence.

Daughter: “So you want me to tell you how many Fartsy’s there are?”

Dad: “Yes. Figure out how many Fartsy’s you get when you convert 23 Freaky’s using the mathematical equation I have given you.”

Daughter: “Um…Okay…well…I guess there are going to be 46 Freaky’s, which would mean I have to multiply .75 Artsy’s…no…wait, I have to reduce here…okay, so I reduce down and then multiply by 5 Fartsy’s…would it be….let’s see (furiously scratching on paper with pencil)….12 Fartsy’s?”

I guess he speaks her language.

An Open Letter to Low Cut Pants

Dear Low-Cut Pants,

I’m told that you feel grievously injured by my “radical” decision to buy you a size too large and belt you as close to my natural waist as I can get you, as if you were pants of a more reasonable design. I am aware that this makes your butt all bunchy and doesn’t look good. That’s why I’m compelled to wear a jacket with you, even if it’s really too hot for the jacket and I’m wearing a silk shirt and silk combines with my underarm perspiration in such a way that I end up bearing a striking olfactory resemblance to cat urine.

You think this is irrational, do you? You think I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face? Well, let me tell you something, Low-Cut Pants: you weren’t making me any friends when I was wearing you the way your designer intended, either. For instance, I kept trying to reach into my back pocket and then discovering that I had accidentally stuck my hand down my pants and grabbed my own a** instead. This is not a behavior I have ever found especially appealing in others, so I can only suppose that it was something of a social handicap for me as well.

Then, of course, there is the issue of my belly. I really have no interest in calling attention to it at this point, but you and your ilk relentlessly foreground it. With each passing year, you force more jiggling adipose tissue into public view; there seems to be no limit to how low you will sink.

One might be forgiven for asking why, in light of my recent weight gain, I chose to buy low-cut pants at all. But now we have reached the crux of the matter: I had no choice. We had a sudden week of warm weather, and when I took my light clothing out of storage, I found that I had outgrown all of last year’s pants. I had to have something to wear to the office the next day, so I went to a giant strip mall where all the stores are open late. I combed through the offerings of every clothing retailer there and was unable to find a single pair of regular waist-high pants. Low-cut pants had achieved total, hegemonic domination of the women’s-apparel market.

Do you think I’m the only 40-year-old woman who has recently gained enough weight to be discomfited by the prospect of wearing you? In case you haven’t looked at a newspaper in the last three years or so, there’s an epidemic of obesity in the United States. But I’m pretty sure you have looked at a newspaper. In fact, I find the curious coincidence of your rise to power with press coverage of the obesity epidemic very suggestive. It’s difficult to escape the conclusion that you are engaged in a vast conspiracy to expose the bellies of American women to the ridicule of a hostile world. After all, where do fashion trends typically begin? France, isn’t it?

Therefore, Low-Cut Pants, I have chosen the kind of tactic favored by those who are otherwise powerless to oppose the dominant regime, the fashion equivalent of a suicide bombing. Yes, I will belt you up high, and damn the consequences to me or anyone else! Millions of my sisters will stand beside me, butts bunchy, fists in the air, to make this solemn vow: the waist will rise again!

Claudia Ginanni

Disclaimer – I, Karen, do not wear low-cut pants, but if I did…this is EXACTLY how I would feel! I found this here. Of course, I first read about it here, though.

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