Gorillabuns

yes, this is a very disjointed post

highlights and lowlights from this past week, including thoughtful musings. (okay, maybe not-so-thoughtful):

why does my almost three year old sound like she's from west texas? reciting the "shake and bake" commercial from the 70's. (if you can't remember this commercial, you are either too old or waaay to young. and i can't seem to find hide nor hare of this shitty twang of dialect for your viewing pleasure.) so, just imagine me at the very tender age of five with pigtails, screaming, "it's shake and bake and i helped!" okay, so maybe you've never met me but hopefully, you have a VERY BIG IMAGINATION!!!

the above mentioned child stated that when she grows up, she wants boobies like mine. GOD HELP HER! may she have a perkier set bestowed upon her than the Ethiopian crap i was blessed with. nuff said about my sad little babies.

why is it, when you sit too long on the toilet (not that i EVER do this) your ass falls asleep? why doesn't this happen when sitting too long in the car or working at your desk? does the sleep factor have something to do with the ring of fire pressing on a nerve? WHAT? did you really have to write this? yes. i do have too much time on my hands.

why can't one with a bodacious set of ass checks find a suitable pairing for her lovely lady lumps? (and i'm interpretation this as a VERY curvy ass for those of you having a hard time following) maybe, apple bottoms is the way to go. though, with a name like this and a very bad website to match, i must pass. on principle alone.

last night, during a wave of major moulah panic, i left a very IMMEDIATE and FORCEFUL voice mail on an attorney's voice mail. something along the lines of "don't dodge my call" and "this shit has to be taken care of immediately!" do you think i could be sued for my shitty-assed tone? believe me, i was shitty and she failed to return my call. fucking lawyers.

considering all the interesting hits i seem to be receiving with "big-assed girls," "fat asses,"  and "man, i would like me some ass," i am now officially farming out this phat ass to any takers to pay $2300.00 in car repairs for rich's car. i'll even throw in a blow job for a new replacement car for 0% interest. god, did i really say this? well... rich and i are pretty serious about this proposition.

it is now 10:54pm and my kids won't sleep and are asking for chocolate. i'm seriously wondering were i went wrong in the scheduling and control department.

moira pooped for the first time in the toilet today. she'll be three on the 16th. i think it was purely coincidental. i gave her a huge chocolate bunny as a reward. maybe, this has something to do with the meth-like attitude at now 10:57pm.

my husband informed me today since, the housing market is crashing like a big, ol', flaming, ball of atomic shit; i might want to concentrate on blogging more to make money or give plasma. whichever pays the best dividends.

i'm getting my hair colored on saturday after three months of delinquency while clumps of white spirally hairs shoot forth from my fabulous scalp. i wonder if she'll accept american airline miles for payment.

after checking and re-checking a few comments i left on other blogger's sites as of late, one CAN assume - a comment left after midnight was dusted with tiny, light, sprinklings of vodka and whatever i could manage to scavenge as a mixer from the depths of my refrigerator's bowels.

tomorrow evening, i am supposed to go for happy hour with a few mom's from celia's school. to a karaoke club. i wonder if celia will still be invited to everyone's children's birthday parties after her mother gets up and performs one of her favorite renditions of a very 'naughty' prince song.

too much of a good thing

this week's festivities brought about such activities like:

extreme hair make-overs.

thanksgiving lunch at my mother's house with moira admiring her fabulous new shoes during the whole meal.

a quick jaunt through the cemetery to quell the inquisitive requests from celia "wanting to see dead people/relatives."

my hair was not the only thing freaked out by this odd thanksgiving detour.

we then, tally-ho'd our stuffed tail feathers to our next feast. where, quite possibly the worst family shot in the history of the gorillabuns gallery of crappy pics was captured and since i care to share only the best with you, hit publish. thank god, i'm not a vain creature (well, only 47.375% of me is not vain for those of you who are counting.)

a five and under rave ensued during the wee hours of the early morn. the person who forgot the glow sticks has since been ex-communicated from the family due to their forgetfulness.

just like her mama (who may or may not have been clothed in a black cat suit, sheer baby doll dress with granny boots to match) back in the day, celia seemed to outlast most of her cousins with her mad dance skills.

i would share more of the weekend's festivities which included a late night game of poker where, i somehow outwitted the pros (i credit the cocktails for such luck) but alas, my youngest just yakked up a small poodle in her bed.

it seems we have ALL had too much of a good thing around here.

wishbone

our thanksgiving break officially started last friday. we are now up to our elbows in laundry while at the same time relishing in the ability to wear the same outfit two days in a row.

today, we went to see "enchanted" as a family and might i say, "FOUR THUMBS-UP!" if you have a chance, go see it, especially if you have little princesses running amuck in your life. even prince, rich, enjoyed the show.

right this minute, i'm waiting and perhaps, ruining our thanksgiving pies for tomorrows lunch - and yes, my oven was finally fixed yesterday after a three month rest. now, i have no excuses to start adding calories to all of my loved ones waist-lines with all the mad baking that will ensue this weekend.

may all of you and yours have a safe and peaceful thanksgiving. may you have a never-ending wine glass at all times to toast to all of your good fortune, may you attack the last piece of pie with the victor of many wars and may all of your wishes come true with the tug-o'war turkey wishbone pull.

i plan on reminiscing about the joy of thanksgiving past.....present, and future.

this is a trick question, right?

when picking celia up from school, the anticipation of opening her book bag is that of one waiting for christmas to hurry up and FINALLY get here. i'm usually surprised with a new and "interesting" picture and if this lovely picture has been finger painted, i'm in heaven because a) the picture is usually very interpretative of her emotions for the day and b) the finger paints they use at her school, smell like fruit. don't ask why i sniff her art. suffice it to say, i like the smell of magic markers, oil paint and gasoline.

most of the time, i'm disappointed in the chia pet of all gifts in her bag, the weekly newsletters of disinterest - pleading for canned goods, money and the inability for parents to put their kids names on clothing even when asked every damn week since the beginning of september.

i like receiving these:

**might i say, this has good composition for a 4.5 year old child.**

when she comes home, she produces this:

**aptly named the "body guard." notice his menacing smile, 'fro and interesting collar of choice. this screams, i'm gonna protect you sucka!**

however, i do not like receiving pieces of paper with funky evaluations of my child's speech patterns shoved in her bag. okay, who does? it seems celia was chosen along with a few other kids in her class to have a speech pathologist listen to her ramble on about her grocery store outings with her mother. i don't know about you but when we shop, i rush over to the target snack bar, quickly grab snacks and purchase a frozen beverage of their choice. they no sooner pay attention how that item made it into their anxious little hands then how toilets magically clean themselves. basically, they don't care.

this wonderful report stated, she has problems pronouncing certain letters that are a very common problem at this age and developmentally appropriate. however, the tester had a hard time understanding what she said most of the time. it's really no wonder to me why she had a hard time understanding my daughter as, i am a very fast talker and at times have a tendency to roll and blur my enunciation of such trivial sounds. it seems, i've passed on another bad dominant/recessive trait to my daughter or more specifically, passed on a bad behavior.

the conversational portion of the test yielded funny results; well only to me. when greeted with the traditional "good morning" statement, celia looked at the tester and said. nothing. (obviously, the tester had no clue that there is no good in morning; only shades of tolerable.) when asked how i pay for groceries, she responded with "cheerios!" celia was then shown a picture of a chicken and asked, "what does a chicken say?" "cock-a-doodle-doo!" celia then later responded with a latent "good morning!"

i'm sure the tester of whom i sorta know is probably wondering how the hell my daughter is potty-trained at this moment in time. rich freaked and wants me to take celia for more testing. me? i laughed. i then took a hard look at the questions and answers and came up with a more accurate multivariate analysis. my daughter answers questions on tests like i do. it's all a trick question, right? you're trying to trick me, aren't you? the capital of the united states is miami, right? because we were only studying the state of florida and never studied this trick question. never mind miami is not even the capital of florida. believe it or not, i somehow passed seventh grade.

i asked celia the questions again.

"celia, how do i pay for groceries?"

"for the poor people!"

"what? do you mean we buy groceries for the poor people?"

"yes, and breakfast bars."

"okay, but do you know how i pay for the breakfast bars and chocolate milk?"

"no."

okay, fair enough. i don't know how i pay for groceries most of the time too.

"what does a chicken say?"

"cock-a-doodle doo! that means good morning!"

"that's right!"

silence....  a minute passes  (i'm a quick one, don't you know?)

"wait! no! oh, NO!!! actually a rooster says, cock-a-doodle do! a chicken says, bock-bock-bock. you poor child, your mother is stupid and has quite possibly fed you the wrong answers to everything in life during your four years here on earth."

i then realized something that most testers in any kind of testing capacity just don't get, if you don't care about a certain subject, you don't yield the typical response. celia doesn't care how she gets her honeynut cheerios, just as long as we get them. pay? what they hell as that? i, of course have failed her in this subject but hell, i'll let her coast until she's five. then the big bad world will come crushing down on her when she has to start balancing our checkbook. but until then, who cares?

so what, if she gave a wrong answer to a barnyard animal sound. somehow, i doubt this particular question will be on her college entrance exam.

what do i care about most? is she happy? does she play well with others? does she feel loved and cherished? is she being the best person she can possibly be? if we can accomplish these tasks then, who the hell cares how we pay for the groceries? or what the capital of the united states is? well, i guess i do but, i'm not going to stress about it.

but what about the children?

you know what's interesting and fascinating to me? semi-faceless, semi-strangers offering up kind words and solutions to someone they hardly know. just when i think i'm so done with vomiting my shit on these pages, someone sends a note or comment that makes me believe in humanity again.

all i can say is thank you, gracias. merci, Danke schön, whatever....

while i put this dead dog to RIP, let me add/finalize this issue - someone or maybe a couple of people stated, usually anxiety and the like are manifestations of something greater and badder (oh, yes, i did use this word) them their mortal selves. i'm here to plead the greater. MUCH GREATER!!!!

now, let's all bow our heads in silence and hum, great big hummmsssss....that this GREATER something will fucking straighten it's shit out (what with all the profanity lately? sometimes, okay most of the time, i just can't stop myself.)

the end.

anyway onto another subject that may or may not have anything to do with me (how's that for a segue? i know, i'm smooth. like butter. or maybe, "i can't believe it's not butter," smooth.)

once upon a time, in days far too distant to remember without a slight hazy feeling, i was interviewing for a job in the pharmaceutical sector. this would be my first foray into selling drugs and as usual, i was late (it seems a trait i so abhor in others, i'm constantly exhibiting in fine fashion) to enter my resume into the candidate pool. upon dazzling (at least that is what i would like to think of myself) my now friend, kim; references were checked and double checked. my then employer, who is also a good friend (wow, one would think i bribe my previous employers to be my friends), answered a question on something along the lines of "what do you know about this person that makes her stand out from the rest of the crowd?" okay, so maybe that wasn't the EXACT question. so sue me, this was like 8-9 years ago. anyway, my then employer replied, "she's a kind person who gives when she doesn't have much to give. she, like... sponsors families for christmas. you know, buys the whole family toys and food."

i say this not to toot on own past self's horn, i say this because i'm a total bleeding heart. what can i say? i come from a long line of bleeding hearts. while i'm not the kind of bleeding heart that thinks everyone is kind and good, i'm the type of person that believes that if you give, you get something in return. not the monetary value of return on demand but the feeling that in some small way, i've lightened a burden and put a smile on a child's face.  i can only hope in times past, i've eased the heavy shoulders of a single mom; worrying about how she's going to afford presents for her children due to life's unfortunate events and crappy pay. maybe this feeling has something to do with past experiences while growing up. i can only imagine absorbent childcare fees and deficit amounts of "quality" time with loved ones are constant worries to the one supposed to be providing it all. the thought of another can of chef boyardi ravioli or tuna surprise without the special ingredient of tuna needed for dinner, makes one retch. basically, i give when i may/may not have what is needed to give for the chance for someone else to celebrate the holidays with a little respite from fear and anxiety.

why do i bring all of this blah, blah, blah, pious, bullshit up.... and then some?

i bring this subject up due to the overwhelming fact (and i do mean fact) that celia is attending a pretty affluent pre-school. by pretty affluent, i mean, a select few spend thousands of dollars to have dinner with a priest while trying to look like big man on campus but then on the flip-side, bring in four boxes of jello for the thanksgiving poor. the thousands they gave in honor of a new and special playground for the school in my eyes, could be better spent helping others that live in their hidden backyard. who am i to dictate how they should spend their hard earned money, you say? you are right, i shouldn't judge, but i do. i wonder to myself while bringing in a grocery bag full of items for a thanksgiving meal of which at this moment, i probably couldn't afford myself, have any of these people been without anything? do they know what it's like to be really poor? have two pair of shoes? have more concerns in their life than cable, brand new flat screens and fancy SUVs? worry that....well, i'll stop now because i'm now, just ranting and judging.

let me just say in short, i've been on the flip side. the kid with two pairs of shoes, eating casseroles without the element of "surprise!" i knew what is was like to worry how we were going to pay the bills with a major deficit in our account because i asked the question, "why can't i have an izod like everyone else in my class?" my mother and i were by no means on food stamps or asking for hand-outs but without the help we received from my grandparents, i don't know where we would have ended up during various junctures in our life.

perhaps, growing up with less than, made me a stronger person. maybe, appreciative of what i have and lustful for more but disgusted by the avariciousness of others. quite possibly, i've learned to think of others as i would hope they would think of me and my family if we were in a crisis mode of need.

quite possibly, i'm a foolish realist with a touch of idealism added into the mix; who will be sadly disappointed by others most of the time but who secretly hopes way deep down inside my psyche - i'll be surprised by the kindness of others at the most unexpected times.