I've come to the conclusion that I am not Super Blogging Girl. Seriously, how did you guess?
(Yes, my boobs really are that big)
I don't blog three times a day, sometimes not even three times weekly, I don't do entrecard falling or dropping or whatever they call it, I suck at tags (I'm always like, do I even know that many bloggy people?), I don't do any kind of great giveaways and I don't twit or tweet or whatever they call it now.
I tried twitter, I really did, but I am JUST NOT THAT INTO IT.
Yes, I said it.
Twitter to me is like high school. I feel like I'm trying to pry my way with a crowbar into the circle of girls in the corner twirling their hair and smacking bubble gum.
And those tweet-up things? Yeah, I have no clue what anybody's talking about half the time.
And Facebook, yeah right. I told my husband to just add me to his facebook page. Now we're known as Brandon-Kate on Facebook.
I figure, dude, if you want to talk to me, you know where you can find me. I have a phone - two of them actually - I have email, I have a post office box, and, I'm here aren't I? Hello? You want a facebook update? Well, I'm either stalking deadbeats for the investigations business, writing about medical malpractice jury verdicts, buying groceries, cleaning the dog, cleaning the kid, cleaning the floors, taking the kid to whatever function he has that day, making dinner, writing meaningless drivel here at Thoughts From a Desperate Housewife, planning my escape, removing wallpaper, or ridding my entire house of fuzz from top to bottom. I mean seriously, just today I ended up wiping the floors twice. Right after I had already cleaned all the hardwood throughout the entire house, I picked up a piece of something that shall remain nameless, but lets just say, we were all trying to figure out if it came from the kid or the dog. And then, instead of feeding the dog what I thought was a glass of water I found on the counter, I ended up feeding her Diet 7-Up. Needless to say, soda pop and dogs with beards do not mix. Until I noticed it I had a dog that was seriously sticking to my floors. So really, do I have time to twit all day?
Just the other day I was reading somewhere some lady's daily schedule. Just to blog and get in about a million visits to her bloggy friends everyday, she wakes up at like 5 in the morning. Who gets up to read blogs at 5 a.m? Not me dude, I'm nice and toasty in my bed at 5 in the morning. Unless of course, the dog starts freaking out in her bed and wakes up the entire house, but other than that, I don't grace the world with my presence until about 8 a.m.
And you know the saying, "I blog when I should be cleaning house"? Well, I have a different philosophy around here. I clean house when I should be blogging.
I just came back from the road of 80's memories. I can't even remember where I was in my many internet wanderings, but someone out there I found a blog post on KT Oslin.
KT Oslin, you know, from the 80s?
Oh my word, did that take me back.
Keep in mind, I was about, oh, maybe five, back in the 80s, and while I have tried to block out most of my childhood, I will always remember KT Oslin.
Back then my grandparents had satellite tv and it was a BIG deal. There were many a nights when I would head on over to their house to watch County Music TV.
Did I mention that my grandparents lived in our yard on the farm? Well, actually we lived in their yard on the farm. My grandparents took over the farm from my great-grandparents, and until my grandparents retired from farming and moved into town, we lived in a trailer in the yard behind their house. Yeah, I know, I began my life living in a trailer in someone else's backyard. Then my grandparents moved into town and we moved into the farmhouse.
Like I said, before my life fell apart and my grandparents moved into town, I used to truck on over to grandma's house to watch Ralph Emery and country music videos.
I'd get up on their little fold down stool, grab their bible to preach a sermon, and then I'd grab a jump rope and sing KT Oslin songs. I always wanted to be a country music star.
Remember this song?
What a classic. Remember how all her videos were like little mini-movies?
As much as I tried to rebel against all things having to do with country music in my teens and move on to New Kids on the Block and Ace of Base, there's something about that country music that sucks you back into the black hole of mullets and honkey tonk lovin.
The year I was born, this was the third most popular country song...
Can you guess? It's Rosanne Cash's Seven Year Ache.
And then there's this song by Mel McDaniel. I tried and tried to find the original music video for this song, but for the life of me I couldn't find it anywhere. All I could find was this video.
I still remember watching the video for this song in my grandparents' living room with the people dancing around the courtroom. I will never forget that.
Some of you may know that we are some of those crazy people who took advantage of the fact that about two years ago pretty much any bum off the street could walk into a mortgage broker's office and have a loan in about five minutes. I call it "Mclending." Just before the whole thing was becoming disastrous, I'm pretty sure Countrywide had actually opened up a drive-through. Just bring a recent check stub to the window and get your loan in five minutes or less.
So in our early days in Memphis, I was lying awake one night pondering my life in the land of the South when good ol' Carlton Sheets came on trying to sell his "How to make millions in real estate" tapes, and I had a great idea. I was going to buy rental property. And because I was a very poor college student who was married to an also poor college student, I was going to do it with no money down whatsoever.
Well, I did just that, only, it wasn't like we all of a sudden had a rental property after hitting up the drive through at Countrywide.
But we did end up buying a house. The only catch was that we had to live in it, for a year.
Then, about three months before Kaydn Rye was born, our year was up. So we went to the McLender and got a new loan for a new house. One week before Kaydn Rye was born we moved into that house, and the plan was to do the same thing with that one.
We still own that first house and let's see, how best should I describe it? I guess most days I stand by the phone hoping our property manager will call to let us know that the place burned down and the insurance check is in the mail.
I can honestly say that some of the weirdest people I have ever met have been a result of our rental. Let's see, let's take a walk down memory lane and revisit some of our wonderful tenants.
There was the first lady. She had two or three kids and a trucking job that left the crazy kids home alone at all times of the day.
Apparently the summer that we moved back up north one of the boys was actually arrested on the lawn for breaking into all the houses in the neighborhood, for selling drugs out of MY house and for G-d knows what else.
After we gave them the boot, the property manager's "walk-through" yielded some pretty interesting findings, one being the appearance that someone was trying to literally climb the walls. I don't know how it all went down, but apparently there was one heck of a party and people ended up moon walking on my ceiling.
And then there was the next round with the next tenant, oh, no wait, it was the lady after that, who could atleast vacuum, dust, sweep the floor, you know, things that most people do to atleast keep the rats at bay.
But the funny thing about her was that she just couldn't seem to come up with the rent money. We finally booted her out and I am now using my judgment enforcement skills to collect my money. And low and behold, now that not every Tom, Dick, Harry and their dog can just pull up to the drive-thru for a home loan, people are coming out of the woodwork trying to rent the place, and we have a new renter lady.
She makes hardly any money, has a teenaged son who just had open-heart surgery and she begged and pleaded for the place so she could get her son out of their old apartment into a home.
The last lady also couldn't afford to keep her water on, so needless to say the place wasn't in the most sanitary of conditions when the new lady moved in a couple weeks ago. She apparently moved in with the place a mess and offered to clean it herself.
So, we'll see how this one works out and pray that every month the rent money comes in and life is full of rainbows and butterflies, without people moon-walking on the ceiling.
So today is the day I list 10 random things about me, thanks to Helene over at 2SetsOfTwins who tagged me probably a millenium ago. Did I mention she has like a million kids? I lost count, but she's got a lot of them.
I guess I'm supposed to list 10 random things about me, so, where to begin?
1) Oh, yeah, I have an almost crippling fear of floor fuzzies. Our floors are completely hardwood, so the floor fuzzies just float around at their leisure whenever they somehow magically appear. There are many-a-afternoon in which I stop whatever I'm doing just to hunt down the floor fuzzies. I hate floor fuzzies. Floor fuzzies are one of those things that G-d cursed Eve with after the apple incident.
2)I can put my legs behind my head. Good ol' pilates - it'll make you do crazy things with your limbs.
3) Someday, within the next five years, I will go an african safari with Kaydn Rye. And it won't be one of those safaris where you ride around in jeeps with a cartfull of tourists; no, we will be on horseback through the African wild with our trusty lion-eating sidekick dog and a safari guide. Oh, but we will come back to a nice and cozy motel and a nice fluffy bed in the evenings. Hubby says he is staying here.
4)I graduated from college with a double major in writing/literature and New Testament Greek. At this time I currently have no recollection of any New Testament Greek, but every month I pay the down the $10,000 my vast knowledge of the Greek language ended up costing me.
5) Kaydn Rye was born my senior year of college, and until maybe about the time he was four or five months old, I had no bonding experience with him whatsoever. He was like this screaming, sucking, wiggling, peeing-on-the-wall, little creature living in my spare bedroom. One day a lightbulb flicked on in my head and he went from my little creature to my little boy in a second.
6) One day I will buy a farm where I will raise a fainting goat herd with a few ducks, a couple pigs, and maybe a sheep or two.
What? You've never seen a fainting goat? Well here you go....
I may be a city girl, but even a city girl needs her fainting goat herd.
7) According to my husband, I am a closet tree-hugger. Apparently you can't lobby for the rain forest and be republican at the same time, but I say you can.
8) I am addicted to mascara. I think it is one of man's greatest inventions. And before I leave the house I have to make sure every single lash is perfectly separated and in place.
I know. This is why I don't have more kids, I'd never end up leaving the house. And yes, I have considered seeing a therapist about this compulsion, but I figure of all the compulsions a person could have, this one isn't so bad.
9) I have a fear of the dark that has plagued me since pretty much infancy. I still sleep with a night light and the shades open so there's plenty of light from the streetlights. And I always sleep with all my legs and arms completely under the covers so that there is at least a barrier between me and whatever else might be in the room. On our wedding night, my husband had no idea that I still sleep with a night light, and I think he thought I was joking when I turned the night light on before we went to bed. But believe me, I was not joking.
10) Before I started my investigations business, I was on my way to training camp with the Department of Homeland Security in New Mexico for six months of wonderful fun. The goal was to start with something like the border patrol and eventually work my way all the way to the FBI. But of course, when the time came, I couldn't leave my little munchkin behind, and that was the end of my career with federal government, as disappointed as I'm sure they are. I could have been the next Clarice Starling.
So, those are my ten random and wonderful things, and because I am not much of a tagger, if you are reading this, consider yourself officially tagged. Just come back here, leave a comment and link back to your post.
Oh, and Helene was gracious enough to bestow this as well upon my humble little blog for all the gratitude that I guess pops up here....
I can sometimes be pretty uptight, anal, un-appreciative, self-involved, and very ungrateful, so I'm glad that I am making progress in the areas of personal growth and that that is evident here at Thoughts From a Sometimes Desperate Housewife. I sometimes forget to thank Jesus for all that he's been so busy tending to in my life, but He is the one who makes it all happen around here.
And I am grateful that Helene bestowed this most fabulous award upon my blog, and I am grateful that I probably officially have more blogging friends than I do actual friends. I don't know if that's something to be grateful for, or if that's just really sad. I don't know.
I never know who to bequeath my many awards to. I just never know, so I usually cop-out somehow. Usually I pass the award on to one other person who really embodies the award. That person today is Lee at Moms Without Blogs. She has a great heart and an attitude of gratitude, so the academy has voted, oh wait, this is not a democracy...I have voted, and Lee is our lucky recipient.
I know I really suck at all these blogging obligations, but I try to keep up. I'm all about memes, which I didn't know the definition of until I started blogging, I just have so much stuff always floating around my brain that it sometimes takes me awhile to get around to everything.
Here's to a week full of nothing floating around in my brain.....
So today was so ridiculously lazy it wasn't even funny. For the last week, I have barely sat down to catch my breath with my new writing job and finishing our bathroom floor and whatever else I mindlessly keep myself busy with. I don't even know.
But yesterday I hit a wall.
Literally.
I hit the wall.
No, just kidding.
It was a figurative wall.
Yesterday I was sick and I knew it, and instead of proceeding with my usual routine of doing my usual routine until I absolutely cannot function anymore, today I decided to take half the day off, and dun dun dun....I took a nap.
How crazy is that?
Kaydn Rye ended up just wandering around the house half the afternoon sucking on his blanky and wondering what to do with himself.
We had planned on going into town for some useful supplies, you know, like food and toilet paper, and paper towels (if I had one of those ShamWow things I wouldn't need any paper towels). Oh, and if you aren't familiar with my trips to town see, I am the Pioneering Woman.
But really, by mid-morning I was feeling pretty rough, so going to town was out. And Kaydn Rye was so upset about not going to town that he was determined to get there by any means possible.
While I was laying on the couch trying not to barf, he starts going on and on about going to town and about how maybe grandma would take him or maybe someone else could drive him. I was tired of the whining, so I told him that if he wanted to go into town he'd have to walk the 55 miles there himself because I wasn't taking him today and if I didn't get some rest I wouldn't feel better and then I wouldn't be able to go tomorrow either.
So, he proceeded to walk away and I thought, great, he's gone, hopefully he'll drop it. Little did I know, the little boy who just "can't" put on his coat and shoes by himself, proceeded into the entry way to start putting his coat and shoes on. I even heard him open the door to go outside.
Seriously, by this time I was like, "Should I let him hitch hike into town or should I get off the couch and stop him?"
Well, luckily for me he couldn't get his coat zipped up and he came back in.
He came in, sat on floor with his head in his hands and said, "Well I don't know how I'm going to get to town now, I can't get my coat zipped up."
I was ready to smack him and then he said, "You need to close your eyes and sleep so we can go to town tomorrow. You don't get enough sleep."
So I think everyday I'll tell him that I won't be able to take him to town that week unless I get more sleep.
Anyway, so after my big and wonderful and glorious nap, I was still too sick to get off the couch, and by that time Kaydn Rye was engrossed in his dinosaurs, so I proceeded to spend the next hour or so watching the dog carry on with her day.
Let's see, there was the 5 minute interlude for butt licking, there was the entire 20 minutes she sat staring out the sliding glass doors looking for any unsuspecting cats that might pop up in the yard, oh and then she got up and moved from the middle of the room to the corner of the room so she could make sure the birds in the neighbor's yard didn't come into ours, and then, she just sat and looked at me for a couple minutes, and then, well, I think that was about it.
And much to the chagrin of Creative Junkie, who just loves dog poop by the way, my little Gertie is my right-hand girl. You know how when people see little babies and they're all like, "Oooh, you're such a cutie toody toody," in their best high pitched baby voice? Well, when I see a baby I'm usually, like, "Dude, can someone stop this thing from screaming please?"
But with a dog, that's another story. I can usually be found talking to the dog with something like "I wuv you wuv you wuv you my little Gertie birdie birdie, my cutie patoody toody"
So anyway, the moral of the story is that now I feel much better after a nice relaxing afternoon. Well, if you call sitting around with a million thoughts about all the other stuff I should be doing running like a ticker through my brain relaxing, then yeah, I had a relaxing afternoon.
Hopefully I fended off the sickness because Lord knows I have to get to town tomorrow.
