Saturday, January 30, 2010

FINALLY!!!!! The Big "O"
As a green Olive connoisseur--I am complete
.......interactive blog assignment: insert "you complete me" hand gesture from Jerry Maguire
here,, thank you!!

I found this treasure bounty in a gas station yesterday!!!!


Now my Olive snacking can be "on the run" AND orgasmic!!!!

Warning to my beloved Circus Peanuts: The "Olive Guido's" have threatened your demise should you tempt me away from their salty sweet goodness. They have mentioned toothpicks and microwaves and should not be underestimated!!!

Friday, January 29, 2010

Sex on Wheels and Hell on Heels

.....but maybe not in that order----wink

Well my friends,, it's time.... Time to venture back into the work world. Time to dawn high heels and business black pencil skirts. Time to calm down the hair and lessen the sparkle ratio on my eyelids.. No more "rocker chic" blue fingernail polish.. No more..........sniffle......FUN!!!!!

REAL WORLD---did you miss me?????

Some of you know about my medical issues and that I was laid off before the onslaught of surgeries started. Those who don't--now ya do.. My surgeon released me to the underworld a few weeks ago...... Dick!!!

So there we have it. I had my first interview yesterday morning. Clothes were pressed, jewelry was picked out, hose and shoes were ready,, but was I?????????

I have been in this business for 21 years. The business world does not scare me, but I have gotten accustomed to being here with Traxx and the girls and writing,,,, a lot.. I loved that.. So this will be a change.. But,,,, I am ready to fall back into professional mode as I do it so well. You would never know the insanity that really lays within while I am at work (and I am trusting YOU to keep it on the DL!!!!!!).

And with that.......I wanted to share with you what I REALLY wanted to say through the interview process. I have recapped some of the questions below and adjusted his behavior accordingly.

*****names have been changed to protect the innocent,, not really,, damn the innocent,, always getting to be unnamed and sweet.....they did SOMETHING I tell you!! We just didn't find out yet!!*****

Wanna hear about the Interview process?? Of course you do!! Here I go:

It's a beautiful Central Florida morning, sun is shining, Gator fans are well, everywhere. And in the distance I hear the call to the workforce upon me. I shutter as I walk into a 3 story formal building. Upon entering the reception area my stomach back flips and I instantly scan for a restroom-just in case. Great. I kindle my strength and approach the elderly receptionist with a sweet smile and encouraging voice. I squeak my intentions while smiling like the Cheshire cat, no doubt looking out of place. I sit to await my interviewing party. He walks in tall and strong. I can't help notice his hair is sticking up like it had been groomed by monkeys. Being a visual person I muster my strength and tell myself...don't stare at the hair,, don't stare at the hair.....don't stare at the hair!!! When I realize this rhymes, it makes me smile. He garners my attention and asks me to follow him. I do. I notice that on the floor there is a stripe that goes into each office and down each corridor. I wonder if androids come out and follow the stripe while methodically toiling their day away. I wonder if I will make a good android. I know that I will not. We enter a conference room filled with empty leather chairs offering an air of haughtiness.

The interview has begun with the normal small talk and me trying not to giggle revealing my inner goober. Now the formal outline of an interview starts:

......leaning back in his chair doing the "business man" leg cross....

So tell me a little about yourself.....

Well I am a single mother of three and a master of wiping toddler asses. I have a Green Olive and Circus Peanut fetish that medical science really can not explain. I have not had intimate relations since 1902 which makes me incredibly incredulous about men and if you want to see me fierce, challenge me to a game of pool with a "men play better" attitude and see where it leaves you.

......Tightening his tie a little uncomfortably....

What makes you want to work for Morgan, Stanley, Smith and Barney?

Are you kidding me??? Morgan Freeman, Stanley Steemer, Mrs. Smith AND Barnies Coffee!!!
Just the "swag" alone would be awesome!! (Nudging him) When does the first PIE and CARPET CLEANING happen anyway,, after orientation??

......He is anticipating asking me to leave immediately but entertained with my thought process and cleavage so he continues....

Tell me something negative about yourself...

Now why in the heck would I do that? ......rolling eyes.....

.....Coughing to clear his throat....

If you could be a tree-what kind of tree would you be? (yes--REALLY!!)

Well, what kind of tree was this desk made out of? Because it's stable AND it's ALREADY in your office as a key element!

.....He is now realizing maybe it was a stupid question, but, maybe that was a good answer to

Why do you think you would make a good fit for our team?

Well, ...(looking around)..... I've seen some of the ladies around here and their fashion sense is a little {{{ahem}}} OFF. If I were here: free make up tutorials and styling services for all!!!!!! Your sales would increase immediately if your women were hotter! me a "look" and shuffling my resume....

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

On January 28th 2015 at 10Am, we will be celebrating the anniversary of the best hiring decision you have ever made! I love Carrot Cake and ornate silver watches...plan accordingly!!

And as promised:

High_Heels.jpg Hell Heels image by Madma

You're welcome!!!!!

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

In theory


I see you,,, scootin' to the edge of your seat,,, lowering your head to move in closer to the screen,, you are captivated by what the Seductress could possibly have to share with you......

Well,, back up already,, it only effects me..

Wanna hear about it?? Of COURSE you do!!!! Here I go:

Gravity Hates Me!!!

Yes you heard that right,,, gravity,,, it HATES me. Oh yes,, I have been known to DEFY it in a feet overhead bruisin' bum escapade or ten... But,,,, I can't "Bend it like Beckham" (no wait that was just a soccer kick)-- or even come close to jumping high enough to make a decent basketball dunk shot (hell,, that was "White men can't jump"). Anyway,,, stop nit-pickin' me and just believe me.....I heart it, but it doesn't accept my love.

We danced today,, me and gravity.

I was not the winner..

Well played gravity,, WELL PLAYED!!!!!

Now I have a bruise on both ass cheeks in the shape of the oversize decorative buttons on the ass plackets of my jean shorts. Would this NOT ONLY happen to me????????

Maybe it has something to do with being short. Maybe the air down here is less supportive and stable. But if that were true then the dwarfs would be flying past us doing "their own stunts" at epidemic rates. They seem to be stable.

Now I am not trying to make fun of little people here. By all accounts I got jipped out of being one by an inch,, so I get it..... ----- If I were 1 inch shorter I could garner government assistance for having a disability------ If I were two inches shorter, legally I would have to be in a booster seat to drive

---- And ----

----There was a rumor going around that at 4'11" your very own Invisible Seductress could participate in the Dwarf Olympics!!

But,,, God did not smile down upon me. According to the Dwarf Athletic Association of America guidelines, the following height requirements exist:


Due to the medical nature of dwarfism, the DAAA has certain requirements that must be met for eligibility[3]. These requirements include (but are not limited to):

  • Disproportionate dwarves (usually with a chondrodysplasia who are less than (or equal to) five feet tall and proportionate dwarves with a height that is less than or equal to four feet ten inches are usually eligible to compete[3]

I am proportionate. Except maybe my boobs,, and my heart,, and maybe my hair is a bit big... but other than that...

The US Dwarf Olympic Bocce team will never be the same without me!!!!

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Bitter words

I am not going to blog today because I am bitter. If you blog when you are bitter your words are bitter too.

My "of age" followers might feel like they licked a lime and have been jipped out of a vodka shot -- and that sucks.

For some, this missed vodka shot feeling may have been in a stupid- drunken- college- BODY SHOT- sort of way -- and that would suck even more for them I suppose.

My "under age" followers (praying I don't have any because I am a naughty, naughty minx) might feel like they licked a hairy lollipop -- again the suckage factor exists.

I want better for you. Please enjoy this picture of a Toast clock:

Monday, January 25, 2010

Weighing in

I have Portuguese blood in me. "What does this mean Seductress??" you ask, softly holding my entrancing gaze.

In my family it means:

***Big dark eyes and an ass that don't wanna stop***
(uh, growing that is,, clarification seemed just, seeing that Traxx has overactive ass issues -- and -- I am not suggesting Portuguese people crap a lot,, but wait,,, alas a change of subject,,,, my ass likes dancing too,, sighing,, but I'm talking 'bout size today..ass size specifically..Yes,, you are right,,, I'll get on with it.....wink)!!

Love the eyes--watch the ass size!!
Ancient Portuguese Family Credo
What a cute scale huh?? I want one!!

My surgeon has a HUGE walk on scale. I take my shoes off each time I step onto it. One day I was wearing a nice high heel and was having trouble slipping the right one on before I followed the nurse into the room (my precious hands were full). As I dug the ball of my foot into the shoe and lunged my leg up a bit to put it on, I lost balance. My heel boomeranged off into the hallway and slammed into the wall, narrowly missing a geriatric patient and her overprotective son. They quickly shot me the evil eye as I did the "Urkel".

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Did I do THAT?????

As I retrieved my shoe I thought it was a shame my heel did not penetrate the drywall like a ninja star, allowing me to pull it out as if it were a weapon and say something incredibly witty. Comically speaking that would have been much better than the actual outcome of grabbing the shoe off the floor and doing an awkward "Merry- go-Round" run around the corner. Just so you know,, the "Merry-go-Round" gait is the only one you CAN use while trying to catch an impatient nurse while wearing ONE high heel (It helps compensate for the leg height differential a missing heel afflicts a gal with and is uber-sexy,,, just trust me!!!).

This story brings me to this morning and the heaping plateful of insanity that goes along with my daily weigh in. I am hoping that some followers will understand the "strange" that is me and not look at me as if I have antennae and a lispy spitting condition. If not-- then I will trudge on my weird journey by myself and try to avoid the word "mississippi".

People say not to weigh everyday--but I do--if I lose weight then I let that boulder roll! If I gain weight then I can nip it in the bud (yes,, I know boulders don't have buds,, well,, aren't we literal today??? hmmpf).

I do not have a digital scale (sigh). This is what happens every morning without the luxury of digital technology.

Wanna hear about it? Of course you do!! here I go:

I pee-- extracting every bit of unofficial weight out of my body

I strip-- pajamas are evil to a morning weigh in

I calibrate the scale-- with the big toe on my right foot- thus ensuring the needle is perfectly set on "o"

I grab the wall-- and the door jamb ensuring that I do not step on the scale to quickly jarring it to add pounds to the final outcome

I step on the scale-- sloooowly----methodically

I look-- WTH!!! I gained 3 lbs!!!

I step off the scale-- *&%$@!!!M(**@&&F***%&*??!!

I look-- if the needle is NOT PERFECTLY SET on "0" and is actually PAST the "o" then this is an OBVIOUS calibration problem -- OR-- I jarred the scale getting on too quickly

I re-calibrate-- with the same big toe used previously (you're welcome for my thoroughness- I knew you were wondering same toe or not)

I hold the towel bar-- and the door jamb because OBVIOUSLY the wall can't be trusted for support

I step on scale-- even slooooower making sure to position my feet "just so" as to not rock the scale

I realize-- I MUST have ROCKED the scale before causing the extra poundage and I sigh a sigh of relief because if I gained eating nothing but cardboard ALL week I'm gonna be pissed

I look-- I lost 2 lbs!!

I step off scale-- victoriously celebrating my loss

I look-- the needle is now 4 lbs to the LEFT of the "0"--if this is true and my theory of bad calibration exists, then I must have gai--.....Nooooo!! I must have read the first reading incorrectly, STUPID ME

Re-calibrate scale-- $%@*&^%$ SCALE!!!!!

I hold on to the door jamb-- and the wall - graciously giving the wall a second chance at support because I feel inanimate objects can see the error of their ways too

I ask in my whiny voice-- Traxx!!!! PLEASE stop opening this door!! Geeeze LOUISE!!!

I step on scale-- soooooo slow it's like claymation up in here

I look-- I LOST 5 LBS!!

I lean forward-- and gain 1 lb!!

But,, I lean back-- AND I LOSE ANOTHER 2!!

I step off scale-- at a snail's pace as not to once again jar the readings

I give myself-- a wink and a double gunshot pose in the mirror to celebrate my hotty-hot-ta-de-hotness

I look-- WHAT THE HALIBUT???!!!

*******CALIBRATION FAIL!!!!!*******

I realize-- I could be here all damn day!!

I'm not Fat,,,I'm Floofy!!!
Really,, my name IS Floofy!!

Saturday, January 23, 2010


Our peanut butter went bad. I don't know how that happened because peanut butter theoretically SHOULD outlast Dick Clark.

I told my son, who has had his life sustained on PB&J's that our peanut butter "HAS ISSUES" and that's why there is just jelly on his bread. This seemed to satisfy him until the next PB&J time when he once again questioned angrily the validity and enjoyment factor of a "jelly only" sandwich offering.

Certainly without the peanut butter our lives are lackluster at best. I mean we can't even REALLY do the always inspiring "Peanut Butter Jelly time " dance with any credibility!!! (Song is added above for your dancing and singing enjoyment, you are so welcome!!)

Without THAT dance I believe my "mommy star quality" is depleted greatly, and this saddens me.

Traxx is doing well and seems to be getting on with his life. He has however adopted a new phrase in this traumatic time. Anytime something DOES NOT work or seem RIGHT to him in any way, he quips wittily "IT HAS ISSUES!!".

No, I CAN'T take a nap because this pillow "HAS ISSUES" mommy!!!

No, I CAN'T ----just drink water--- because our water "HAS ISSUES"!!!
---countered swiftly by: "That soda DOES NOT ---"HAVE ISSUES" mommy!!!!"--------

As I parented him with verbally strong words for putting hair gel in his hair (the whole container,, we'll be faux hawking for weeks!!!) he proudly stated:

"Mommy".......(dramatic pause)........"YOU HAVIN' ISSUES,,,,,,(with the big eyed sweet face he continues),, like our peanut butter????????"

"Yes son,,, I have a few "ISSUES"!!!!!

If life were only THAT simple!!!! And our "ISSUES" were as innocent as a toddlers!!!!

Then we could do the peanut butter jelly dance everyday with gusto and live happily ever after!!!

Hey!! I ALREADY do the peanut butter jelly dance everyday!!!!!!

ROCK ON ME!!!!!!

Another cold day warmed.....

Sometimes you wake up cold. Other times everything in the world feels like a nice warm safe haven. You don't get to choose. But you CAN choose how to proceed. It's been really chilly in my world. Through my chattering and sometimes frigid mind, I have been doing a slow calm thaw. For me it's a lesson in accepting help when you need it, knowing that you will give it back when you have it.

I need the warmth today. The warmth of my children. The warmth of friends that speak but don't judge. The warmth of security when everything is topsy turvy.

This Christmas I bought polar fleece blankets for my kids from Old Navy. They were on sale and I thought they would be a nice addition for the story time and hot chocolate escapades we often have. The problem is I have stolen one. Well actually two. OK three!!! When DramaGirl isn't looking, I'll take hers (until she notices). If the other leaves hers unattended, I nab that one (until it is again is found missing from a happy snuggly moment). If my son is busy playing, I take his (and keep it the longest because in full toddler motion, you are never cold).

I realize this sounds horrible. But it's not.

When the girls are at their dads, I sleep with BOTH of their blankets. It's not because these are the softest and warmest polar fleece comfies in the world,, and I HAVE to have them... It's because every time I have seen those blankets, they have been hugging someone I cherish - and - that someone-- is laughing and carrying on.

Snuggling up nice and tight with THEIR blankets, I feel them with me, I smell MY perfume (because DramaGirl steals it) and see the marker lines (because things in my house get "tagged" all the time). And they are there with me. It's not the aggravating or dramatic part of them being there that I feel, but the essence of the two most lovely creatures in the world being right by my side.

These blankets smell and feel like home.

It's been around 7 years since their dad and I split up. I still don't know how to graciously share them.

I hope I never do!

Luckily, I have Traxx with me 24-7!!! And even though a lot of days he is EXACTLY like the video above....

I'm OK with that!!!!

Because my kids will only be this EXACT age TODAY!

**Tomorrow they will be one day older**One day just a little more jaded with the world**One day smarter than me (and one day more vocal about it)**


**One day closer to leaving my household and starting their own**

So today,, we will all ACT our ages..(except me,, obviously)

Friday, January 22, 2010

Bird Bait

I think my followers are soooo sweet that they should be eaten by mommy birds and regurgitated to cute little chicks around the world! Jannine, The Invisible Seductress, 2010

WHAT???!!! Is that weird??????

This morning I have a lot of work to do around here so I have elected to post an article that
I wrote for a great site called Monkey Pickles. If you have not already visited there--check it out it's a very fun blog site and fuels my insanity a little!!!

This story is about a newly graduated news reporter named Jaley Evans. She is hot, young and very talented (hey just like me!!! yeah,, I said it!!! urp). She is however,, painfully naive!

This is her first big story....check out what happens......

The Adventures of Jaley Evans

I was traveling by supply truck to a very secluded location. With every bump the truck’s cavity shook ominously. The terrain was very rocky and we were told we were on a perilous back road. Not to worry, our heavily armed confidant divulged, it is heavily patrolled and swept for land mines or ambush.

I had been blindfolded hours ago as to further protect the destination. It was only myself and one other journalist being given this elite access. I didn’t see him but I recognized his voice and the smell of fruit jam. It was Willard Scott, I was in the company of a virtuoso of news reporting. The mood was tense and I stayed alert to every inexplicable noise and motion. Willard, ever the professional, was calmly chatting it up with the guard while I nervously practiced my interview in my head. With every jar of the vehicle he selflessly protected my heaving chest with a nice firm squeeze. He even grasped my thigh when he thought I was slipping off the thin metal bench seat.

We finally arrived at location and were lead into an empty metal corridor before being unmasked. Long and wide, it was devoid of character and sound bounced off every wall like a ricocheting bullet. The air was musty and a rancid oil smell lingered thickly. It was an aroma that I had dreamt about my whole fledgling career. I drank it in, like a Russian man gulping Vodka. Willard just smiled at my wonder and touched my waist caringly, making sure I was stable for the walk.

Thousands of bellowing footsteps later we arrived at the main door, which opened with a moan. The air wafting out of the room overtook me with emotion. The sounds of crumpling and reverberating voices were deafening. Then something utterly amazing happened! A worker screamed uncontrollably and all sound ceased in reverence. Her words were foreign but the tone of excitement palpable. I stood in the underground CPCIRL. The surreptitious Celebrity Potato Chip Image Recognition Lab. The veiled location where the hallowed “Potato Chip President” display is being held. I stood in awe in the very facility Angelina, Brad and all of their spud’s faces are represented regally in potato chip form. Everyday, 350 expert Potato Chip Recognition Technicians peruse 300,000 bags of plain potato chips. I was there for the astonishing inauguration of a new celebrity chip. Willard embraced me and tenderly kissed my cheek close to my agape mouth. After intense image verification, the chip was deemed an authentic replica and the crowd erupted in celebration.

Today the first ever potato chip image of Lady GaGa was found and in chip form, there was no bump.

to be continued.........

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Get your FARM ON!!!!! What does that even mean???

I was watching Dr. Phil yesterday (because I heart whining and the occasional necessary bitch slap!). He brought on a lady addicted to the Facebook game of "Farmville". Her kids were being neglected and her oldest daughter was pleading for help.

The woman explained that the crops "die" if she did not tend to them. Somehow this effected her life so strongly that she HAD to sit there ALL day to make sure her fake agriculture and livestock flourished while her real kids starved to death (brilliant!). But during the interview I had one thought pop in my desolate Dr. Phil inundated brain...

CRAP!!!!! MY CROPS!!!!!!

I had set up my first 6 crops just days before (just for the halibut AND a little because I was getting 50 "Farmville Neighbor" requests a day!!) I had promptly neglected my crops. I did this because----although it is not a Grand operation,, I DO have a real life and children that need to be tended to (and also because----- my addiction to Olives does not allow room in my brain for many more extracurricular non-olive related activities,, what??? It doesn't,, just sayn'!!!).

So I went to freakin' "Farmville" and discovered ALL my crops had died. The blonde twit in the middle of my scorched field stood there bright eyed and smiling. I looked at her and said "What you smiling at----- Ho!!!!!!" (no really,, she needed to hoe my fields! geesh).

And I will never go there again...

Now this logistically COULD be the end to this post... BUT I think we all know I am wordy and great with the transition of subject matter,, so check this one out:

My son has been waking me up God awful early these days. I know it's early because AgDay is the only thing on TV and the talk of soybeans permeates the brisk air.

.....see what I did there??????

---AGRICULTURE DAILY---Farmville---master of transition---yup---errrr---SOYBEANS??---well--- this silence from you is certainly awkward----I'll move on already---Geesh****

and on a totally unrelated issue:

..Oh CRAP!! It's the garbage truck and I got bags!! They switched my dang days and I keep forgetting!! CRAP!!!! Hold on whilst I run outside with three huge-ass bags- in my hello Kitty nightshirt and matching toe socks!!!!......

Thank you for being there for me!!!

OK,, so where were we? Oh yes, Traxx waking up before God does,, I remember..

So this morning my angelic son comes in chewing cud and carrying a crinkly bag (well it was REALLY a cinnamon bagel, but it sounded like cud!). He then takes the bag and swiftly slaps me on the head with it. The bagel bag had only one bagel left (which alarmed him and apparently needed prompt mommy attention).

The lonely hard bagel in the bag landed squarely on my porcelain doll like face (snicker-snort). This caused my body to react evasively and the bed to transform into a trampoline, throwing me 10 feet in the air (Normally I LOVE stupid human tricks,, but there was no camera for posterity and I was too focused on stopping myself from finishing the last syllable in the nasty word I began to scream to care).

Traxx just dropped the bag and stared at my flailing limbs and body as if I were a scene in a good episode of SpongeBob.

Let's be clear here: This is not my chosen way of waking up!

Do you want to hear my chosen way of waking up??? Of course you do!!! Here I ......


Wednesday, January 20, 2010

For someone special

I don't know if she will read this. And I did not want to seem too forward, but I have been thinking (hide the kids and valuables!).

A fellow (and very popular :) ) blogger has been writing about her prayers of a baby. She does it in such a potent beautiful way that transfixes me. I am a follower there and read teary eyed as she outlines her feelings.

I had went on a 7 year fertility journey myself and recognize the pain and longing it brings.

At work you see 16-17 year old's pregnant walking in with their gangsta boyfriends and a mom who looks petrified.

Then an obviously stressed mom of 3 toddlers comes in and is noticeably pregnant.

You can't help but think that possibly there was a mistake in heaven. Maybe a miscommunication between God and a lazy angel.

When you read stories like the Octomom you notice that your hubby is starting to resemble Nicolas Cage in his "Raising Arizona" days (that both scares you and intrigues you,, I mean me,, nooo,,,, you!)......A covert plan hatches in your mind.
This just HAD to be added--

You have the drugs and surgeries and poking and prodding and discussions and BB thermometoring and sex every night even when ya don't wanna and you are constantly trying to figure out if you can even AFFORD to keep going mentally AND financially.

Basically at this point you are a science project.

The drugs made me loopy and mean - people meaning well with stories of hope made me sad - some people made you feel inadequate - and - I felt like it was ME, not able to give him what he wanted.

About 4 years into the struggle I had a dream. I was painting my nursery and writing a poem on the wall. There was something about this dream that felt foretelling to me. I kept the poem written on a ratty piece of paper for the next 3 years. Here is the poem:

Wish upon a star my angel, wishes do come true!
You'll be wishing on the same bright stars,

We wished upon for you!

And I DID get a chance to paint that poem on a nursery wall. We were in the early stages of the adoption process and I had come to terms with that. I had relaxed knowing I would have a child that needed me and I could offer them my heart. We had just bought an expensive (for us) car to try and pay down a bit before the adoption took place. And I found out I was pregnant. I had went to the doctor in the morning and to work after, waiting on blood work. I had a customer when the call came in, she held my hand and we cried together. The rest of the day was me trying to remember how to speak and a series of dances with anyone who made eye contact.
The picture quality is bad, it's a picture of a picture-sorry---

My daughter is now 11 years old and fantastic!

- I am praying - I am wishing on the stars -
for you

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Ooooops-CRAP!!! REALLY????????? You tell mom!!!

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We had just moved into the prettiest house I had ever seen. It was in Georgia and the back yard was every nature loving child's dream. We had creeks full of salamanders and craw fish and woods littered with logs busy hiding frogs, snakes and lizards.

Note: This was also the house that my brother and I decided to test the great "Silly Putty on a bare bulb theory" (and no,, it does not glow any brighter that way!! Trust me!!), but that's a story for a different blog post.

For some reason on the far end of our property there were a huge pile of sinks. We cleaned them and arranged them in a large square to hold animals. My brother and I then wandered for hours in the woods each day finding creatures (mostly reptiles and amphibians even scorpions and rattlers) for our "zoo". The neighborhood kids were then charged luxurious entrance fees in compensation for our hard work.

My mom was very understanding of the passions of my brother allowing him to bring creatures home and take responsibility for them. When cages were at capacity and she felt it was time to release or stop intake we would be forewarned. My brother and I took excellent care of these animals and we rehabilitated many an injured creature always sure to research each species and release as soon as possible.

My favorite save was a Pileated Woodpecker we named John Pierre. He was the most beautiful bird I had ever seen with an injury to his wing. My mother had taken a course on ornithology and was well versed in the care of this magnificent creature. He was released a few weeks later and hung around our yard the whole time we lived there.

One time when we were "at capacity" we found the most beautiful Garter snake we had ever seen. Thick and healthy, it was a zoologists must have item. I watched my brothers eyes light up and knew I was about to help break the rules to smuggle this creature in.

We filled an aquarium with pine straw and hid it in the back of the garage (suave kids that we were).

In the morning the birds were chirping and the dew was freshly dripping off blades of grass - and- we found out why this snake was so "thick".

It had buried itself in the pine straw and as we tap-tap-tapped something odd happened. Little heads started popping up everywhere. This momma snake had given birth to handful after handful of babies (we counted 82!!!!!! Which is extremely rare as most garters have 30-40!)

The Garter species of snake is one of the few varieties that have live young. Guess we hadn't researched that fact too well. So up the stairs to stutter out a sentence of outright disobedience to our Mom. Mom took it like a champ saying something like "See what happens when you disobey!! It always comes back to you,, now get the camera!!"

We proceeded to take pictures of the babies curling through my hands, braids and my brothers pockets before releasing them and being grounded for a few looong weeks.

I will think of this memory as my kids grow up and find their passions, nurturing them and possibly cultivating lifelong career paths. My brother ended up living his dream and has accomplished amazing things in a field that he has loved since childhood. If he had been stifled, maybe this would not have been the case and he would be stuck in a suit behind a desk somewhere stewing in corporate BS (like I did for 21 years and will start again soon,,, sigh).

Let's start the path to living our dreams and encourage our kids to live theirs!

No matter what that may be!

Monday, January 18, 2010

Self Portraits (part deuce.....)

A few posts ago the girls drew self portraits and I shared them with you. Yesterday they decided to draw pictures of me. I was excited to see what they came up with,,, but this was a process!!! It seems they wanted perfect renditions and did NOT want me to see until they were complete. I bought time by eating pickles and thinking about the jar of green olives I had slaughtered at W mart.

An hour later happy children fast footed it in my direction with my professional artist's imagery.

Wanna see them?? Of course you do!! Here I go:

The first is MsDebate's:

I am pleased because Japanese Anime girls are smokin' hot and obviously I resemble one. The square eye is a dead give away! The other eye (I was told emphatically) is winking because I am flirty and fun. My hair is triangularily pointy and wild (just like I like it!!) My skirt is a bit short but the styling was dead on. I do not however remember ever standing like that, shyly, but maybe I do (hmmmmm, note to self,,, DON'T!). I am witty and I wear witty t-shirts apparently. This one says: "Ohh I just remembered I don't care!" ( I am trying to remember if I do or don't care,,, shrugging). My background is layered with HEARTS!!!! Because the world LOVES me!!! (snicker-snort).

I love the way she drew me!

Next we have DramaGirl's:

Apparently I am ALLLLLLLL diva with DramaGirl! My hair and head is ha-uuuuge in proportion to my curves. I am standing a bit shyly again but it may be because I am dressed hoochily. I suspect if really dressed like that I WOULD be standing trying to hide a bit (I am wondering if she chose to draw the back of me as well,, would she have written "SEXY" on my pants,, hmmmm,, gonna talk to Drama!!). I have breasts here and I am glad about that, they were missing in MsDebate's portrait.

And YES,,,,,,, Sonic the hedgehog already emailed wanting his hairstyle back. So I am sending it.
...peace brother,,,, you'll get your hair back!!!

But I do love the way she drew me too.

I thought maybe just for fun I would draw my own self portrait (oh, what I do for you guys,, wink smoochie!!!).

Please enjoy:

My face was FANTAB-U-LOUS!!!

Damn balloon flew blew in front of it in the last second!!!

Hmmmm, maybe I DO eat too many Circus Peanuts????!!!

Nah-- I look GREAT!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Actual size!!!!

I think maybe in life I expect too much. Not that I don't deserve it, it's just that I wonder: do I really have the right to EXPECT it??

Traxx turned 4 Today!! I can't believe it, but it's true. At some point I am going to have to give up on keeping him a baby. But because I know he is my last child, it is hard for me to let go.

.....And then just to add to that equation.................................................................................

.....he falls asleep like this:

...taken just moments after a "you are in BIG trouble mister" speech!!!!

.....How can I not turn into a sucker again????!!!!

There is something about fat little cheeks and mispronounced words that keeps me young. And now faced with a young boy instead of a baby I am concerned I will need a rest home and a mega bottle of Aspercreme soon.

This morning Traxx woke me up singing his own birthday tunes. He also stated that he had fixed his own "ceerweeal" (because he is 4 now and that's what they do apparently).

I went to the kitchen to find this bowl poured:

The spoon is there for size reference

He was totally content with the size of his bowl and was miffed when I shared my plan to empty it into a bigger one. Even the concept of giving him more that 5 Honeycombs didn't budge his agitation.

That's what pride of accomplishment will do for you. It's not how grand the outcome of a task is, it's the heart you put into it and actually finishing it that matters.

But, are we expecting too much and not enjoying what is in front of us??

What a waste of the good "ceerweeal" in life if we are!!!!

Always busy looking for that bigger better bowl...Not contented...

I let Traxx eat his 3 bites of breakfast today. Half of it spilling on the table and being retrieved with milky hands. I am blissfully aware that these days will quickly pass me by and that the milky fingered little 4 year old will soon transform into a drinking from the milk carton smart mouthed teenager.

And I will STILL be transfixed by him.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Story of Green Olive Abuse

This is a sad story. I only hope you can brush back your tears and continue on with your day after reading it.

Wanna hear about it? Of course you do!! Here I go: I have been out of green olives for a few days now. For a normal person this would be no problem and no tears would be shed. But if you have been reading my blog you know that I kinda have a fetish for green olives and I live a very simple existence that needs the comfort of a pimento stuffed buddy from time to time.

They have become my new "Circus Peanut".. I know, I know,,, you are gasping and saying out loud: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SEDUCTRESS!!!!! Never let go of the Circus Peanut!!!!" (well at least in MY mind you care that much about me and my weird fetishes to scream such an awkward statement,, and I thank you!!).

So a trip to the big W mart was inevitable.


***The following is a consumer alert: I have found that the Dixie's olives are sub par and should be avoided at all costs********************************** back to your regularly scheduled blog, already in progress...

So,,,, because it IS Walmart and I heart buying in bulk AND 5 olives will inevitably be dinner on many a long lonely night,, I got a big jar. Nooooooooo,,,, scratch that--I got a HA-UGE ass jar and fondled it lovingly in the aisle while singing "Wind beneath my wings" in the styling of the fantabulously talented Bette Midler (insert your visual here).

I quickly made my trip to the register (without buying mascara I say proudly displaying my thriftinessishly behavior). I then proceeded to gracefully yet VERY accidentally throw this Yaris sized jar into the Walmart sky. It landed with a slow motion "CRASH" that left olive carnage shooting out in every direction.

Pimentos were screaming in pain from the glass shard projectiles.

The sweet green olive "nectar of the God's" juice was traveling in tidal wave form heading straight towards the feet of unsuspecting snowbirds.

And I said the only thing that came to my head:

"Man, I guess I shouldn't hit the Vodka BEFORE buying the olives next time!!"

Which elicited NO laughter but did beat an all too commonly used "DAMN IT"!!!

The man behind me then went on to give me cocktail recipes in broken English and patiently said he would wait if I retrieved another jar of green olivey goodness (the cashier suggested a smaller jar would possibly be in order and smiled half-assedly at her own humor attempt). I did decline however because the glares of the clean up crew and laughter of my children was overwhelming to me at the time and an "exit stage left" was in order.

I did not stop by the Dixie to buy a jar. The green olive drought continues.

***Note: A lot of olives WERE hurt in the making of this blog. I will be having a moment of silence for them at 12:30PM today if you would like to join me. Formal dress attire is suggested but not mandatory. In lieu of flowers, please send the Seductress Circus Peanuts as maybe she needs to get back to her roots--AND-- no matter how far you throw Circus Peanuts---they will not shatter--unless they are dipped in liquid nitrogen--but that's really scientificy and probably wouldn't happen.***

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Reality and me

When I was 17 I applied for a job in a small Ice Cream shop. Back then I was very cute and thought there was no way they would pass up THESE power scooping sparkly goods!! It was going to be easy. I dressed up colorfully, (because that's what Ice Cream servers do, right??) and went in to the interview with the owner. He actually asked me questions and did not just hire me because I looked like a good Ice Cream server. I was miffed. I went home and cried for days over that rejection.

I was told that the fun money being issued to me would be stopping. I guess there was some kind of reorganization in my household or I was being called out on being lazy--either way--it was a time of action. So I applied at a little print shop because I had vocational printing experience and knew absolutely everything. This time pity was taken and I was hired.

I actually did very well in a naive teenager way. Even though I was in love with the paper delivery man, I was professional in my behind the scenes drool-fests. I worked hard and really started to like it there. I was pretty good at what I did too so that fueled my fire. One day I was given a very important printing job:


Embossed and printed on fine quality card stock. I was thrilled. The final color of a 4 press run was being added on my watch.

The problem was.............

I was eating gummy bears. Somehow one of my gummy bears got on to the printing plate and stuck. As the invitations came out----the top half looked perfect. The bottom half was covered by the paper holder. I was supposed to pull out every 5th one or so for quality control but was so accomplished as a printer and/or skilled in my job I didn't need to make such a superfluous move.

Out of 150 invites, 97 of them had the imprint of a flattened gummy bear gracing the bottom half.
Evil Beasts of Invitation Destruction

I lost my job that day in a conversation of few words and many many tears. I remember totally understanding the decision and being upset that I had ruined the cards but even more so that I would no longer see the paper man (priorities people). I even stalled departure hoping he would ride in and sweep me up in a pity love display with a white steed and armour. That fantasy never happened (none of my fantasies came true back then, or now, WHAT THE HALIBUT??!!).

My dad picked me up and concreted my stupidity. My last check was docked. And it was then I knew:


so, if you don't mind...

I choose fantasy just for today!!

If you see me smiling for no reason, dancing in my car or talking to the birds.......
(hmmmmm,,, actually that's a normal day for me isn't it......)

Anyway,,,,,, I'm going to go and think of something fantastical I could do today and get back with you....... You can give me suggestions in the comment section as well!!!


When I get taken in for mental evaluation, please vouch for me. I am sure there is SOMETHING sane in at least ONE of my posts that you could highlight in my defense.

Crap,,, I'm doomed!!!!!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010


Oatmeal, we LOVE oatmeal!

especially loves my Oatmeal because I have been known to (on very special occasions) add a scoop of vanilla ice Cream (special occasion: out of milk-- I celebrate good times people).

But not today.....

Today was a "2 pack, add cinnamon applesauce" day and we were all thrilled. His tiny hands cupped the bowl with flavor anticipation. He carried his little bowl to the table and then while I was out of the room, decided it should be enjoyed somewhere else. He took the oatmeal that he loved into the living room to watch Spongebob.

The bowl loves oatmeal, until the bowl decides it loves bouncing off the coffee table and landing abruptly on the floor better. At this time the oatmeal decides that it loves turning into a circus act and dispersing like clowns coming out of a VW.

Oatmeal also loves to replicate a nice layer of fresh snow on the carpet AND on screaming children's hands and feet.

I hate oatmeal.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Self Portraits

From time to time I really try to see where my girls are with themselves. There is no question that they probably do not regard themselves as highly as I do. It is my job to pedestal them a little bit and nurture the insides. They both have qualities that I admire and a spirit that shines. I think raising girls is an art. I am trying to study and perfect that art with mine but am left wanting at times. There are always questions that are asked in dealing with everyday life that I may or may not have the right response to. I think as long as I am honest about my own short comings they will understand.

Imperfections are the little cracks of perfection


Imperfections can be beautiful

We are not always going to be stunning on the outside but we can always make sure our insides are. That is what truly makes us unbelievably sexy and longed after. Being on the dating scene has ground that into my head. If you are the hottest man in the world but I don't LIKE you-- where will that lead (but I may have to try a few things to fully figure that out,, ha,, nudge,, dang it,, does that make me shallow???!!! giggle-snort)? I need to see your true heart and spirit to fall in love with you (and a daily offering of Circus Peanuts and Mascara will help too!!).

The picture below was DramaGirl's self portrait.

"How do you see yourself today?" I asked delving straight into 9yo "dramaland".
"What do you mean by that?" She countered sweetly.
"Draw a picture of you as you are RIGHT now for me". Was the last of my direction given.

And she did,,,,, and this is what I got:

There are a few issues here. For one, this girl has blue eyes and Drama has the prettiest brown eyes you can get. This girl also has boobs, or a BOOB hanging out on the left, either way she is endowed in that department. She also has one big fused phalanges mitten and no feet. And she appears to be floating, but we can chalk that up to drawing style.

What she DOES have is a perfectly happy smile, fashion sense, bright eyes, nice hair and of course a DramaGirl tiara. She's even kinda " Vanna Whitein' " it a bit with the hands. I would say that I scored in that DramaGirl is happy with her appearance at least for the day.

I think she came pretty close, don't you???

MsDebate's self portrait was not as promising. She held her head down and was very sullen in appearance. I didn't pounce at that time to over analyze it, but it opened my eyes up a bit to where there was much work to do. And she got hugged even more and praised even more for little things that day.

We'll open up that can of worms later in conversation. It was a telling experience.

Lets pray that we all successfully nurture our girls and keep them away from the ugly side of the world's "you'll never be pretty enough" mentality.

Do I live by my own words? Of course!!!!!

(laughing aloud at myself because we all have our own appearance issues,,, but........still.....)


...............KNOW THAT..................


What would your self portrait be today?

What would mine be??


A set of horns holding up my halo and naughty but nice eyes with LOVE in them.

I photo shopped for you,,,, wanna see?? Of course you do here I go:

Have a great day and wink at yourself in the mirror ---- because I said so----don't sass me!!!

And if I find out you didn't there will be consequences!!!

Saturday, January 9, 2010

I love Traxx!!

I think maybe I have come to another crossroad. I have promptly turned around and ran back to the LAST crossroad I experienced. But that is not really what the world is about. I can not choose to not choose a direction here. And it won't get chosen for me. With that being said:

What do I do to relieve this stress????

Drinking is not an option because of health issues and I'm not stupid enough to start
I don't do drugs (crack is whack,,,, laughing)
I am not going to eat my way out (I'm too lazy and chewing is strenuous)
Exercise.....(see above remark about chewing and deduce what you would like,, but this one I HAVE been working on)


I am not having sex (blush.... no really blush......move along people,, nothing to see here!!!)

*****The following is a diversion from the original blog content*****

.......did you hear about what sex addiction is doing to the squirrels????

Squaids is an epidemic!!!!
(don't bash me,, that was a joke!)

*****Now back to your original blog content, already in progress*****


So,,,,anywhooooooo,,,,,,,,what's a gal to do with her stress????

I choose sarcasm. Because wiping a toddlers ass all day dictates that I should have a sense of humor about life. Otherwise it would just be crappy all the time--really crappy!!!

So the other night I was up at about 11PM. Hoover was sleeping soundly. I thought "Hey,, lets do up the nails all special like!" And I even answered "OK,, go pick out a fabulous color and I'll meet ya back here on the couch!!"

A few moments later I had chosen a base of "Pink Champagne" and a topper of "Party Light Sparkles". I laboriously took old polish off, re-polished and then delicately layered on the "Party Light Sparkles". There were 10 perfect little paintings worthy of "The Met". I waved them around for drying and talked to them one by one:

"and who's a pretty nail---YOU are!!!"


"who's mommas favorite sparkly digit?? Ohhhhhhhhh that's YOU pointer!!"

But then Hoovers butt alarm went off....And this problem he has been having for a few weeks of not understanding "emergent poop issues" popped up AGAIN. And after 5 times during the day of making the "scrub" or "toss" poopie toddler undie decision, I was faced with it AGAIN, this time with perfectly polished (yet still wet) nails and a smidgen of a bad attitude.

I am now removing his dubbed Sir name of "Hoover" (which was in respect to the order of "eating ravenously"), to call him "Traxx"(which is in respect to the order of "poop remnants left in underpants"). Please adjust your reading habits and memory adapters accordingly to reflect this change.

No squirrels were hurt in the making of this blog. I am sure THAT squirrel had just eaten a big pie and was resting, he really does not have "Squaids" someone just made that word up. For some reason I thought it was funny- and I'm sorry- not really really sorry- but sorry a little bit if it offends any of you squirrels reading my blog,, the corn is in the mail....

Home Sweet Home

I have a screened in, solar heated pool (oh yes fancy me,, holding pinkie out!!). It's a little guy but has nice benches all around and if I fill it two inches shorter than normal it is not over my head (insert well worded small pool and "you're so short" joke here,,,, go ahead,, I'll wait........).

When we moved in this pool was sparkling clear and pristine. We used it a few times that season and the next as I had someone who took care of it. Shortly after that, the pump broke. I was doing better in those days financially but still being a single mom means prioritizing and I couldn't put that on top of the list. The estimates were outrageous!! I did try to at least keep it clean even though we couldn't swim in it but even that got too expensive and toxic. So I let go and let nature run it's course.

One year I had a little bonus and decided to get a new pump put in. I also knew someone that would do it cheaply and thought I could swing it. So he put in the pump and the pool was on it's way again to not being a Jello pit (Bonus note: apparently,, it is illegal to charge admission for Jello wrestling, if it's not REAL Jello,, whateva!!!).

A few months later my pool was blue and almost ready to be enjoyed.

Until the solar heating system sprung a leak.

When the pump is on you'll see it. Majestically spraying from the top of my house, a huge water fountain. My own National Park replica of a geyser. I thought if I added music, a timer and colored lights it would be a nice attraction, but I didn't because I am at least a little sane (laughing). There is no way that I or anyone else can find to bypass the solar heating plumbing.

So the pool is black and green and slimy all over and has been for years. I am not proud of this. But it is what happens when home repairs skyrocket on an older home and you are a girl with a can of corn for a hammer.

Lately the HOA has been sending a notice every time a leaf touches down. And now they are threatening to charge me a daily fee if the pool is not cleaned.....This pool is on the side of the house and covered. No one can see it from the street AND it is in a locked screened room (what's it hurting?).

But the drug dealers and punk kids that live here must be complaining about it's unsightly appearance when they cut through my yard to break the law. And it's OK for me to live in a neighborhood where there is constant crime and people banging on your windows screaming profanities at all hours of the night AS LONG AS YOUR POOL IS CLEAN!!!

Who knew?????!!!

Home Sweet Home!!!!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

The problem was..............

One day I was going to go to a neighbors house to play scrabble. I was 17 and and excellent with words (go figure) so this sounded fun.

The problem was........

*****Anytime you start a sentence like that something shocking always happens*****

You wanna hear about it?? Of course you do here I go:

Earlier that week a boy moved in around four houses down from my Scrabble friends. He had dark eyes, a devilish smile and the tightest of assess--------ment scores (gotchya!! He had a nice ass too).. He was a Bad boy, and I hearted me some Bad boy!!!

He was not afraid to tell you what he was thinking and NOT afraid of authority. I stalked him everyday from behind a coke machine (no, I am not proud of that now, but then it seemed par for the course). I watched him making friends with the very metal heads I stalked before he came. He would fit into my obsession well. Now let me tell you,,,,, I TRIED to be a Bad girl, really I did,, but I just didn't have the freedom to do so (but, I did get away with bringing a tumbler full of wine with a splash of OJ on the bus everyday,, never buy boxed wine with teens in the house, thankfully monitoring amounts is difficult with a box,, giggle,, sorry for the diversion,,slapping head).

The problem was.........

My brother was always watching me. And even though HE was a Bad ass,, I was always the Bad ass's dorky little sister. I could never swing my own identity (...But I did steal an AC/DC t-shirt from a friend to wear it UNDER my sweet lacy shirts to reveal as I was able,,,, I also had pink lip gloss that I used as eyeshadow, blush AND gloss....ooooooh.....scandalous!!!...Warning kids: do not try this at home,,, you are walking flypaper...diversion queens RULE!!!).

So on this scrabble day,,, guess who was outside??? And guess who was glossed?? And guess who asked who inside to talk???

Bad boy+me+inside to talk=Bad girl??? (no, it didn't,, sigh)

When we got to his room he looked like he was glowing and I was the moth attracted to that light. But he was nice and gentlemanly and not so bad and I think I kinda liked that,, A LOT!!

The problem was.........

He took his shoes off and his socks didn't fit (they made his feet look like the Michelin man) and there was a sock funk (who knew proper sock fittage and funkage would effect me so negatively,, shrugs shoulders). And then his mom started yelling at him and his glow left.

We decided to steal out of there and go to the park. It was dark by this time and I was glad that when my Bad boy put his shoes back on, he came back from nasty sock land to me. So we ran off to the park.

While scurrying to a picnic table, I was nervously awaiting his actions. He straddled the bench and I followed suit. This would be my first really really grown-up kiss. Our lips brushed and I felt his.............uh wait....

The problem was.........


You see my brother had alerted my dad to my rendezvous with Bad boy......And my dad had a 280ZX in these days (yes, this is still one of the nicest looking Bad assy-ist cars around, but the headlights on a 280ZX at night----freaking------UNMISTAKABLE!!!).

And that my friends was our spotlight!!!
This is not my dad's car but it IS exactly the make and model and color.....divine ain't it????
(not when it's busting ya!!)

My heart sunk. I had never outright defied my father like this. Bad boy ran away stammering as I slowly chartered my way to the car (dead teen walking,,,, dead teen walking)...

It took one look.. It took one second... And I knew,,,,, the look on his face was a look I never wanted to see again.

That was a pivotal moment in my life. There was no yelling. I just wept out of total respect for him and his feelings.


I got "it".

What his worry was about.

How much he loved me.

Why my ideas sometimes weren't the sharpest tools in the shed to pick.

I'm not saying that I never did anything wrong again (goodness sakes people,, it's me). But I AM saying there was always a bit more thought behind how it would effect others,,, especially my family.

I still live by that today.

The problem is.......

I wish more people did. People treat each other like crap. It's not just about you! Your actions, words and legacy will effect all around you. You have people looking up to you that you don't even know about. You say things that they carry with them much longer than just the two seconds it took for you to spit them out. Someone may be trying to emulate you right now (if you have kids, this is a given).

If your life was a movie, would you be proud to rewind it and play it again?

Would you be proud of the way you treat the people around you?

Do you tell people they are a priority when they are just another option to you?

Think before you speak and plan before you act.

How will this make ________ feel?

That sentence, if used in everyday life, will change everything you say or do for the better.

Don't make me give you "that look"!!!!

Not valid in Hawaii. Get your parents permission before going online. Must be 18 or older to order. Yes,, I am crazy....but you love me....right?? You do don't ya??? Come on, really.....tell me...I'm needy......