Not the only one ...

Every once in a while any common sense I have goes out the window, and Adam likes to make fun of me. Last night, for instance, we were watching the weather, and the forecast for today said "numerous storms."

"Numerous, that's a lot," I told him. Sometimes these profound statements just fly out of my mouth before my brain has the chance to filter them.

Before everyone thinks I'm the only wack job in the house, let me present you this: Adam's consumerism is based on commercials. When Garnier Fructis started with commercials, I bought him the shampoo because he wanted it, because, in his words, "Those people are having fun." Because of the music, "Woo woo, woo woo" and the fact that the people in the commercials were having fun, he wanted the shampoo. I didn't argue, just bought it for him and imagined him singing the song as he washed his hair.

His newest thing is Amstel Light. I don't know if he's ever had one, but whenever we watch the Red Sox on NESN, there's a commerical for Amstel Light with cool music and people having fun. He said the other day he wanted to drink it because of the commerical. Mind you, he will deny any of this, so if you're reading this, Adam, don't even try to dispute it. The gist is right.

On my Friday beer run, I got him a six-pack of Amstel Light so he can identify with the commerical when we're watching the Sox tonight. No one can say I'm not a good wife in that aspect!

Thank you, God

First off, I'll admit, I am a very lapsed Catholic girl. I rebelled against religion when I was a rambunctious teenager. But I've never given up on praying, because honestly, I believe in God and the basic premise, and I have my own relationship with Him.

I don't pray often, and I try not to pray only when I need something from God. Sometimes I just thank Him for what he's given me and ask him to watch over and bless others.

Two nights ago, I realized it's been almost four months since my beloved grandfather, Big Daddy, died. I love the psychic Sylvia Browne and remembered she said it took four months to pass over into heaven. So I started my conversation with God and asked Him to give me a sign that Big Daddy made it to heaven okay and was happy and healthy again, in the form of a dream. For some reason, all of my relatives, and even my dog, have visited me in my dreams after they have passed away.

I've still got goosebumps because my last dream of the night, shortly before Addison woke me in the morning, was one with Big Daddy. I dreamt we were going to his house and all of my relatives (my grown cousins were just kids) were there too. For some reason, there was a squirrel in front of the screen door that was trying to get in too. When I opened the door, the squirrel got in, and when I went into the house, Big Daddy was standing there, looking like I remembered him as a child, eating off a paper plate and he was chuckling about the squirrel.

We all then pointed to my Uncle Neil and said, "You get the squirrel."

That's where my dream ended, because like I said, Addison woke me up, so I didn't get a chance to talk to Big Daddy, but I am ecstatic I got to see him, and that's my sign from God that he is in heaven and well.

Hey God, thanks. I will try to be a better Christian, because I see the miracles you work everyday. Thank you.

My blood is boiling!

Okay, so it doesn't take a lot to make me angry. But right now my blood is boiling.

Everyone on Fort Benning who has a pool got a notice that they are addending the rule and your pool can't be more than 8 feet in diameter and four feet deep. My pool is 14 feet in diameter and 42 inches in depth and is not big at all.

We are in compliance with the fence around the pool and a lock on the fence gate. So why the fuck in JULY do these dipshits decide to change it?

Anyway, I went to see my neighbor who gets even more fired up than me and we decided that if we have to, all of us in the neighborhood will go to the main office and present a united front.

What 'tard decided that you can only have a pool eight feet in diameter? It doesn't even make sense to have a pool eight feet across and four feet deep. There are no pools like that in existence.

They say we have until Sunday to take the pools down. Not gonna happen. They have pulled this crap before and then eventually got their heads out of their asses so I am not taking my pool down.

Our pool is the only way we can go outside and get fresh air during the day, when it's 95 degrees with 100 percent humidity. Our community doesn't have a pool like some others, so unless they want to pay for my gas or reimburse me the $200 bucks I spent on the pool two months ago, they can bite me.

My little big brain

I consider myself a pretty smart person. I kick ass on Jeopardy! and solve puzzles like no one's business on Wheel of Fortune. I'm a virtual trivia machine and sometimes surprise myself with the useless drivel I know. That said, I find stupid things funny.

For some reason, I find it funny if you add the word "the" before certain things that don't sound right, but makes it sounds funny. Example: "I love the bingo." "I wish I had more time to do the blogging." I wish I could think of more right now but my brain is farting.

Another thing I like is calling people by their first and last names, but only if I don't know them. Sit with me and watch the Red Sox, and listen to me say, "Let's go Mike Lowell!" "Great catch Jacoby Ellsbury!" I don't know why I do this, but it tickles me pink. I guess I feel like I don't know them personally, and after living in the South for the past 12 years, have acquired a modicum of manners and geniality.

Maybe I'm just really special. I'm sure most of my friends would agree.

Happy 4th!

Happy 4th of July! I will keep this short, because, hell, it's a holiday and why the heck am I online anyway?

I want to especially thank my huband (my hero) and my brother for their service to our country, for preserving that freedom we gained way back in 1776. Thank you, also, to all our service men and women. I appreciate you all.

Have a great holiday weekend!

Put those away!

I'm not sure exactly why, but I hate, and I will say it again, hate, seeing women's boobs hanging out of their tops. It's not because I'm jealous because even if I was hanging D cups, I would keep those puppies to myself.

Sorry, ladies, I just don't want to see your mammaries. It's not very classy and actually, you look like a prostitute. Unless you're Pam Anderson, you don't need to let them loose. Everyone expects Pam's boobs to be in their face, BAM, big boobies, but honestly, I don't want to be trying to eat at Olive Garden and have boobs staring at me from the next booth over.

There's no shame left. It started with wearing regular bras with tank tops. I mean, ewww, how white trash. Even the see-through bra straps are noticeable. You know, they make these things called STRAPLESS BRAS so when you wear a tank top or something of the like, your STRAPS don't show. I highly recommend one.



Let's leave something to the imagination, ok? Would you want your boyfriend/husband walking around with part of his peter showing? Didn't think so.

Agggghhhhhh

Yesterday morning I booted up the laptop and tried to get online with our Verizon broadband access PC card. Once I finally got online, I couldn't get to any Web sites. Long story short, Adam called Verizon last night and tried everything. Today, it was the same problem. So I called Verizon back and Robert was very nice and we tried everything. It's better but not like it was two days ago.

I have no clue what's wrong but it's pissing me off and with my OCD, shit that doesn't work pisses me off to no end because there's nothing I can do about it.

And, my cellphone is whack. I can flip it open and have the correct time, then flip it shut, open it back up, and the time is one hour behind. Say what? Robert helped me with that, too, and I updated the programming but it's still whack. He told me to bring it to a Verizon store and they will do a flash update on that. Ummmm, okay, I'll give it a whirl.

It also wasn't giving me my texts as soon as I was getting them, but I suspect it might have something to do with Twitter, so I had to make that web-only, instead of getting the texts. We'll see. UGH!

That's my life in a nutshell. Whoopee.