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Addictions [34]

From Russia With Love [7]

General [27]

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Huh? What? [70]

Listmania [37]

Me Meme Me! [27]

Much Hate [65]

Picture Pages [42]

Retail Hell [58]

The Crazies [42]

The Fam [93]

I'm sure that all of you-- or maybe it's just Edana-- are wondering about The Mad Poet and how he got his name. Let's take a trip down memory lane for this tale, shall we?
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I'm dead tired. I feel like I'm always on the run now. Even my dreams are hectic. When I can remember them, that is..
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There are some days when I'm quite sure that the world is out to get me. Yesterday was one of those days.
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I brought my kids and mom over to my store today before work to pick up some things on sale. This was the greatest thing in the world, according to the girl, and led to this conversation..
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I just overheard this conversation between the kids..
The Girl: "Hey, (The Boy)?"
The Boy: "What?"
The Girl: "Do you have a dime I can borrow?"
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I've had this recurring dream for most of my life. Well, I guess it could be considered recurring because it's The Maze. It's always the same maze, but it looks different each time I've dreamed about it.
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Living in suburbia, as we do, there are certain things that you just do because they're done.
One of those things is caring about your lawn. We failed that miserably. It's a brownish green and patchy. We do not have the suburban lawn. That's mostly because of god knows what the kids have been doing. I caught them kicking around dirt the other day, causing yet another grassless patch in our yard.
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I've mentioned before how going food shopping with my kids is on par with going through all nine circles of hell for a day trip. In fact, I think the day trip to hell sounds rather pleasant. I could pack a light picnic or something. It'd be a few hours being tormented by other beings anyway.
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I showed the family my South Park portraits (D'oh! Forgot to put up the link yesterday.). This is what they had to say...
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Nothing but the best filler for you, my loyal readers. All 3 of you. Today you will see my family portrait, South Park style.
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I'm really not happy with the large, awkward looking Google ad stuck up on my page. Yes, I understand that free blogs need some revenue. I get that. But I really don't like that we weren't given a choice in where the ads were placed. I know that I wouldn't have chosen to put it above my header. It throws off the look of the page.
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The town I visited, in southern Russia, was built around a rather large park. Really, the park was unbelievably huge. And I don't think anyone really mapped the whole thing out. There was always something new to find there. Luckily, you couldn't easily get lost. If you took a path long enough, eventually it would lead you out of the park. We'd passed the amusement park several times before we decided to give it a go. That was our first and last time to a Russian amusement park.
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Today has got to have been the longest day of my life..
I got only a few hours of sleep last night. My back was hating on me and nothing I did would ease the pain. Finally, I managed to nab those few hours of sleep thanks to my new best friend, Percocet. I love you, Percocet!
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Or My First Day at Work.
Or or Wednesday, Bloody Wednesday.
I was only supposed to observe. Maybe ring up a few people when it was slow, check the fitting rooms, and put things back on the rack. That's all.
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I've brought up before-- several times, I'm sure-- that we, my cousin Den and I, were not allowed to go anywhere unescorted. This wasn't due to fear that we might get lost somewhere, but fear that we might get kidnapped.
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Another Russia story..
I mentioned the bazaar before but hadn't gone into detail. This story is about the one time I went, with my cousins, on a trip to the bazaar..
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This has got to have been the most involved hiring process I've ever gone through. Or even seen or heard of. Tonight was my orientation. This time I got to go to the actual store I'd be working in. (During training, I went to another store in the chain. A larger store with the regional training center.)
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It ain't just a song anymore. Not after today, anyway.
Ok, ok. I didn't quite burn down the house. Not the whole house..
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Last night and today I got to play with the cash register. This was more fun than work for me. I actually finished the training in far less time than it was supposed to take because I had a grand ol' time scanning the hell out of everything and pushing buttons.
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Last night was the first day of my training. For some reason, they feel that 3 days of training is needed for retail work. I was already a bit zonked and loopy from sleeping around 2 hours the previous night-- well, actually, it was the day of since I hadn't gone to bed until around 8 AM and was awakened by the cat at around 10:30 AM because he needed a cuddle-- so when they turned out the lights for the video, I nearly wound up in a puddle of my own drool.
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I swear I had nothing to do with this. My daughter likes to make her little books. Usually they involve princesses and the like. This one's different. I stumbled upon it last night while picking up some papers the kids had left around the house.
I'll just let the pictures speak for themselves..
More background on me, the family and our trip to Russia and a story about how we were attacked by rabid fish can be found here.
To say things were a bit different in Russia than they were back at home in Jersey would be a gross understatement. Even the city we were in was unlike anything I'd seen back home. It was clean. Even when we were in Moscow, the subways were not only gorgeous-- think marble, gold plating, etc.-- they were spotlessly clean. They looked more like museums than public transport stations.
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It was the summer just before my senior year in high school. I was 16. I figured that I had a nice long summer of doing nothing and hanging at friends' houses doing nothing. This didn't bother me as much this year because some of my friends now had licenses and cars. That meant roadtrips.
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My mother-- like many other mothers, I'm sure-- is rather fond of watching Lifetime movies. She has somehow wrangled my daughter into watching them. The problem with this-- besides the whole watching Lifetime movies thing-- is that my daughter has the attention span of a golden retriever on crack. She spends most of the movie asking questions about what she just talked over, not realizing that no one else heard a damn thing over her yammering. This has lead to the rule "Mouth shut, ears open". I should mention that my daughter isn't a follower of rules.
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Yesterday..
Me: Is it just me or do you find the whole Katie Holmes/Tom Cruise pairing disturbing and awkward?
J: ...
J: no way
Me: You haven't seen them?! They're everywhere!!
J: i've been in meetings!
Me: Watching them kiss is about as exciting as licking the sidewalk.
Stole this meme from Ms.Q.
1)
My uncle once: taught me how to swim in a baptism gone wrong. Ok, not
really. He threw me into the pool and was shocked that my skinny little
body went through the hole in the inner tube. But I did learn to swim
that day.
2) Never in my life: have I ever liked bananas.
The kids are playing Guess Who? and The Girl keeps winning. This is not going well with The Boy. Not at all. He hates to lose. The Girl was trying to comfort him with...
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A lame cop-out, I know. But I'm tired, people! I've got kids home for spring break. I'm running myself ragged trying to wear them out. So, in lieu of an actual post, you can stare at my cat. And the humiliating pictures I take of him.
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Last night...
Me: "Mom?"
Mom: "Yeah?"
The Boy and The Girl have been playing pen pals with my mom's boss. My mom's boss is an old friend of the family. I've known him since I was their age, so he's especially excited about me having kids. The Girl was reading us his latest letter when we had this misunderstanding...
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My kids. I joke about how if you mushed them together, you'd get me. They're undeniably my kids, they have a lot of my odd traits. But what traits of mine they have inherited are amplified and slightly distorted. It's like holding a magnifying glass up to various parts of me. It's a truly bizarre experience for a parent to notice these things.
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Yesterday, to get out of my funk, I decided to wrangle the basement into some semblance of order. We got rid of all of the toys the kids no longer play with, separating the unbroken from broken to be sent off to Goodwill or Salvation Army.
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My first two vector drawings..

Yes, eyes. What else were you expecting?
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Ten things I have done that you probably have not:
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Me: "Mom? Remember when I was little and nothing was child-proofed? How the playground was rife with metal, rust and sharp, pointy objects?"
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My daughter's version of London Bridge:
All the branches falling down,
Falling down, falling down,
All the branches falling down,
My god, lady!
I hate Cadbury creme eggs.
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From the moment my kids could point, they wanted to pick out their own clothes.
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I feel like I need to put this here. If you don't know me personally, don't assume you know me by what you read. Being a "writer", I take certain liberties. I distort, manipulate, tweak. Basically, I lie a bit to make things more amusing. I do not write conversations word for word unless I specifically say so. I do not whip out a recorder if I think something might be funny so I can blog about it later. I remember the gist and fill in details.
(More)When you're a parent there are certain responsibilities. You're the one who guides your little bundle of joy through their early years. You mostly lead by example. That is why we lie a lot. Who really is that nicely mannered? But in front of your kids, you have to be. There are also times when you have to sit your kids down and have a heart to heart talk. (More)
I was just sitting here, enjoying my lovely mug of tea when some
sloshed onto my shirt. I exclaim, "Oh, great! I spilled tea on myself."
Which lead to this conversation..
Me: (string of muttered curses)
Mom: "You what?"
Me: "I got tea on myself."
Mom: "Pee? You peed yourself?"
Me: "Tea! I spilled tea on my shirt!"
Mom: "Oooh.. Tea. Tea on yourself. Heh."
Me: "Yes, mom. I've been potty-trained. You were there, remember?"
My family has a fine tradition of being chased by various animals and I continue to follow in their footsteps. Here is a list of animals that I have been chased by: (More)
I have a long history of fear and loathing where geese are concerned. For some strange reason, they love to attack me. Even as a baby. My mom had to stop taking me to the park because they'd charge after me, en masse. (More)
I've seen these lists here and there and thought "Why the hell not?" Usually, that thought gets me into lots of trouble, but I think I'm safe here. Let's kick this off...
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Mom: So I told the boss that I won't be working anymore overtime!
Me: But...you brought work home with you..
Mom: ....yes.
Me: So you're doing the work, but for free. Did you think this out?
Today, I get a call from the kids' school. The boy has broken his glasses and I need to bring him a spare pair. Luckily, we had a pair to spare. (More)
I got this email from my cousin and thought "Wow! Easy blog entry right there!" I know, I'm a lazy ass. It's one of those things you forward to everyone, but I don't because I don't hate people. Here goes: (More)
As I said before, you didn't piss off my grandma. Her Look could kill a man at 50 paces. She was scary, in a warm, cuddly, grandma way. One of the things that you could do to irk grandma was, well, to do something stupid. My cousins and I pissed grandma off often enough. (More)
Grandpa's memory wasn't ever very good, even on his best days. Maybe it was all of the kids they had. I don't know. All I knew was this: I've always-- from the day I was born, and probably till the day I die-- hated bananas with a passion. Just one whiff of anything banana scented sends me reeling away, gagging. I hate, hate, hate bananas. And I've always been rather vocal in my dislike. (More)
My grandma had bad eyes. We all do. It's a family thing. After many years of seeing her lean way back while holding whatever she was reading far
out in front of her, I finally asked her "Grandma, why don't you get
new reading glasses?" Grandma quickly, in her terse way, told me "I
don't need glasses, these are just fine." to which I replied "Then you
need to grow longer arms." only to have her give me The Look and remind me that she still had a wooden spoon and she knew how to use it.
I learned something that day. Don't piss off grandma.
Yes, more on my grandparents. Too many memories. Must write. This one is about my grandpa. (More)
That is to say, we're cursed with our family. No one gets a say in who they're related to. If you're lucky, you don't entirely hate the relatives. I guess I can consider myself lucky. I actually like my family. Well, most of them. (More)
Boy, I was a downer before, wasn't I? To lighten things up, I'll tell a story from my youth. Now as I mentioned before, I was a very good girl and a very trusting girl. If an adult told me something, I believed them. I might have taken things a bit too literally-- so that's where the boy gets it-- and a bit too much to heart. (More)
My mother's parents had a farm up in upstate NY. I always thought it was a nice place to visit, but never could understand why anyone would want to live in the country like that. My mother apparently agreed since she couldn't wait to get away from there. She married as soon as she could and never looked back. Well, except for once or twice a year, for holidays. (More)
Dear Aunt Jo-
I do not even know you, but I feel as if I
do. You've left many messages on my voicemail. I don't know why you
think my name sounds like "Sally"-- it's not even remotely close to
that-- yet you still leave messages for dear Sally on there. You're an
angry woman, Aunt Jo. I guess that's why Sally's mom had your number
blocked. Or were you calling another wrong number there, too? (More)