There, Their and They're - Get it RIGHT PEOPLE!

I never knew how much it bothered me until one of my old friends from High School re-connected with me on Facebook. After being inundated by "invites" to various applications, I weeded through them one day and decided to take a quiz on "There, Their and They're".

Much to my satisfaction I passed with flying colors...only thing is...if it didn't bother me as much before, it CERTAINLY placed this annoyance on the RADAR for me and I began noticing the misuse even more than ever before!!!

Now everytime I see it I get all twitchy!! Perhaps it's another OCD. I dunno...there are all sorts of quirks that I'm learning about myself these days and I just hope that I can get things under control before they start taking over my life and I can't leave the house or I start walking funny on the sidewalks like good ol' Jack did in "As Good As It Gets".

So for the record...here's how it breaks down - and these are MY definitions, so don't go lookin to Webster and correcting me.

THERE: speaking of a "location" (i.e. - Over there!)

THEIR: use this word when speaking of other's posessions or actions or whatever. (i.e. That's their couch.)

THEY'RE: this is a CONTRACTION!!! (I know - it's a big word...you can look it up!) use this in place of THEY ARE. (i.e. They're going downtown.)

With just a little effort, we could clean up this pesky issue. I appreciate your support in this matter. In the meantime...I'm gonna get a T-shirt made.

I love you, I really do...you can ask ANYONE!!!

It's "PRESIDENT OBAMA" Thank you very much!

I get extremely offended when people call our sitting President, "Mr."-anything. It drives me crazy and I get all aggitated! It is PRESIDENT OBAMA - NOT Mr. Obama. And I understand that people get all pissy about some of the Presidents that we've had...don't agree with their decisions, hate their policies...but NO MATTER WHAT - they hold the hightest office in the land and they ARE OUR PRESIDENT! In my humble opinion, they deserve the respect to be called

PRESIDENT

Whoa...seems like I got a little ticked there, didn't it? Well, I'm passionate about this. I think it's disrespectful to call our current President, "Mr. Obama".

Okay then...there you have it. I think I'll go look at some pictures of my President now. procomicdiva has some nice ones. ;o) Love ya, CARM

PMS Cravings

Why is it that we crave CHOCOLATE when we get close to "that time of the month"? Why can't it be broccoli or carrots or spinach? What is so great about CHOCOLATE that makes it THE CRAVING for our mentrual cycle? Why does it have to be something that causes our asses to grow?

THIS IS REDICULOUS! I've had it! I'm throwing my hands up! Now pass the damn M & M's and get outta my face!

I love you dammit...I really do....you can ask anyone!

~Carm

A Tale of Two Dad's

I am so diappointed and hurt right now I could just scream. I want to hit something. I want to be destructive. This isn't gonna be pretty, but I'm going to write it anyway...because I haven't cried about it yet, and to be honest? That scares me a little.

This weekend is Father's Day. It's a time to celebrate the love that not only you have for your Father, but the love he has for you. If it were not for my Husband, being the wonderful man that he is, I would probably be curled up in a ball all weekend long with nothing to celebrate.

Many of you know that I have *two* dads. My real dad. I don't see or talk to him, save for a family reunion that happens every 2-3 years. He's an alcoholic and has peppered my childhood with moments that I cannot remember, and the ones I do, all seem negative. I've been left in a car when he's picked my brother and I up for the weekend while "I'll be right back" and heads into a bar only to return 5 hours later completely shit-faced to drive us to whatever shack he lived in at the time. I've witnessed him tipping back a huge bottle of vodka in a trailer-park driveway, only to emerge puking once he swallowed the contents - yelling at him to get in the damn truck, while I drive myself to "the meeting spot" - even though I only had my learners permit and wasn't supposed to drive. These were, by no means, regular visits. I can't remember even 2 months that the "every-other-weekend" thing worked out. But then again, I have been so traumatized by this man, that perhaps I just cannot recollect everything. The only good thing about him is that he can sing. And folks? He's good. Really good. And he's wasted the talent away.

I have a Step-dad. He's overbearing. Intimidating. Hell bent on always being right, no matter the cost. Be it relationships, loss of revenue for his business or life in general. If there were an "asshole's handbook to intimidation" he would be the author. The type of person who treats you so horribly that when he actually treats you with kindness it seems to make all the ill feelings melt away because you just wish the goodness would last forever. But it doesn't. Not by a long shot. And for every kindness you revieve - trust me - you've earned it. I would describe him as the "husband" on Sleeping with the Enemy - if you've ever seen that movie you know what I'm talking about. So incredibly riddled with demands on those he supposedly loves that there is no way anyone can ever measure up to his expectations. To top it all off, he's got so many OCD's that he causes those around him to have them as well, for the fear that if they aren't meticulous then the hammer will come down. And it will come down hard.

I work for my "Parents". My Mom and my Step-Dad. This is the second time I have worked for them. I quit once before because of him. I had a eye twitch for two months straight because I was so stressed out and one day I realized that it was because of him and that "place". So I walked into his office, and told him that I had had enough and I was giving him a month. When I walked out of his office...my eye stopped twitching. I knew then, the destructiveness of this person and the effect he had on me. He can actually shut my body down. He has blamed me for him fighting with my Mother. And it was just like 3 months ago. I'm a pretty fucking excellent employee. The tasks that I complete on a daily basis could make your head spin. And since I've been around him my whole life, I know what he wants and I give it to him. He never misses the chance to try to make you feel inferior. On this particular occasion, he was badgering me for something on the phone and when I was trying to answer his questions, he'd interrupt and ask another which could have been answered if he had only allowed me to speak and this went on for like 5 minutes...I finally got to a point where I just said, "Are you going to listen to ANYTHING I have to say? Or are you just going to keep talking over me like you always do? This is rediculous! Let me do my damn job!". CARMEN - COME BACK TO MY OFFICE!

At this point, my blood is boiling. I'm thinking...BRING IT FUCKER! I'm ready for this shit! I walked back on a mission. I closed his door - without him asking me to. He told me to sit down...I said NO, I'll stand thanks. He commences with this interrogation technique that I'm sure he read about in a Hitler book or something because there was spittle flying through the air and landing on me. You know what he called me in there for? To blame me for a fight he had with my MOTHER the night before over her listening to my conversation with him, after which I did not discuss with her...I kept it to myself. He said I was the cause for all the fights they had in their house. EX-FUCKiNG-CUSE me??!?!

Folks, I haven't lived in their house for 20 years. In fact the joyous moment I left the house? I was 17. Had finished cleaning the kitchen and had to walk something out to the garage which was detatched from the house. Grabbed the key to unlock the door and when I turned the key in the lock, the key snapped off. Aw Man! I worked at a hardware store at the time and was just trained - believe it or not - on how to change out a lockset on a door. I get an employee discount & everything. So I completed the task and went in to "kiss" my parents goodnight and just mentioned that the key had broken off in the lock and that I would pay for a new lockset and even make a bunch of keys at work the next day. Step-Dad said..."Bring me the key." I said..."it's kind of under all the dinner gunk and all the ashes from your ashtrays." He said, "I want to see it." in a very demanding tone. I said, "Well, it's under all the gunk & stuff and besides I'm going to get a new one a fix it all tomorrow when I get home." He raised his voice and said for me to get the "Goddamn key! I want to see if you forced it in the lock." Like he's on fucking CSI & can tell the stress fracture of a brass key or something. Jesus! I got really irritated and upset. I mean I do not want to dig in the garbage past all the dinner mess and HIS FUCKING CIGARETTE nastiness. I said, "If you want the key? Why don't you go get it yourself. I'm not going to dig in the garbage. If you want to kick me out of the house for that, then FINE - but I'm not going to do it!" Needless to say...with that I turned around and went up to my room for the night and left him to do whatever he wanted with the garbage AND the key.

The next day he informed me that I indeed forced the key into the lock thereby breaking the key off in the lock ON PURPOSE and he asked me if I remembered what I said the night before. I said, "Yes I do."...He said, "Then I want you to pack your bag and get out." I didn't say a word. I turned around, went upstairs and packed a bag and left. I was married a year later and never looked back. To this day...he tells this story to his friends, as if it's one of his greatest accomplishments. Like he's bragging about it. Now, you ask, "But Carm. There are two sides to every story, surely he has a different version of what happened." No. He doesn't. I was a great kid. Good grades, never did anything I wasn't supposed to. On time. I had held a job since I was 13 years old. I was well-behaved and well-mannered. I was late from a date once and that's because the battery died in my boyfriends (now husbands) car.

Yesterday, my brother called me (we work together) and asked what we were doing for Father's Day. I told him I supposed I would probably head over to the step-dad's house for just a quick visit and give him the card I had bought at lunch. then my brother said that Dad was going to have a get-together out in the woods somewhere and my brother asked if I wanted to go. I said no. Where he is describing this shin-dig is going to be is a place I cannot go. I can't go there because when I was a kid, it was one of the places that he left us in the car and I have a complete panic attack when we go there or even NEAR there. We have to completely navigate around this place whenever we need to go out in that direction by driving almost an hour out of our way. I shake and I cry and my throat closes up and I just can't handle it. And to be honest with you, he'd probably be drunk anyway...so why do I want to be around that? He didn't even invite me! I don't even know if he has my phone number, but my Brother does and he and my brother talk all the time. He just knows that I do not accept contact with him if he's been drinking and will not allow my kids to be around him during that time either. So that must be the reason.

So, my Mom heard me and my brother talking because her office is right in front of my desk. She said, "Have you talked to *your step-dad* about this?" - the whole coming over on Sunday - thing for a quick visit. I said that I hadn't. He's not one for an impromtu visit, but I could care less...he's the DAD who has been there so I figured that he's the one who was going to get my attention. Well...turns out when my mom approached him about the possiblity he went ape-shit on her and said something to the effect of, and I'm paraphrasing by a third hand account of the situation,"Goddammit, don't these fucking kids know that I've been working in the year on YOUR patio for the last three weeks and this is MY weekend? NO! I'm not interested in any visits (said with a snarky tone)."

So Father's Day should be joyous. I have two good for nothing pieces of shit for Father's. It sucks too. I'm a great daughter who has an awesome family. And they are missing out. And I'm totally depressed. Please, don't offer your Father in exchange. I don't want any more in my life. I can't handle the disappointment. Thanks for reading.

Matt Damon dumped me in Vegas

So, I'm dreaming last night...

Apparently I lost like 100 pounds and was rockin this awesome flowy slinky red dress with some of the most FABULOUS shoes known to man and I had somehow landed a date with Matt Damon.

Nevermind the fact that we're both married and I'm not even particularly "fond" of Matty...I'm just saying it was a dream and I have no idea how this came to be.

So the next thing you know we are walking down the Strip in Vegas. Me...looking all sexy in my slinky red dress with a waistline like I haven't seen since high school when my grandma and I handmade my poodle skirt for the 50's concert that I ROCKED IT IN and had a 27"waist...i digress...

To recap: Me = Sexy, HOT, Mouth Wateringly GORGEOUS. Matt = Dashingly handsome and when he looked at me his eyes lit up and he smiled HUGE.

So we go dancing and I noticed how he wouldn't hold me really, really close. And then we were browsing through the shops at Caesar's Palace and this old couple waves us over and asks Matt if he could go in and grab them something and so I sat with the lady and she says how suited we are for eachother...I'm watching him grab the items for the old couple and I lean over to the lady and say, "You know...that's Matt Damon..."...she replies, "I know, dear. He's handsome, isn't he?"...I'm all..."He is, indeed!". Matt comes out and I grab his arm as we cross the street and he shoots me one of his "I'm Matt Damon" smiles and it melts me and I smile back and then he takes off in a full on sprint and RUNS across the street like he's Tom Cruise in "The Firm" where the entire last 35 minutes of the movie he's like FULL ON BOOKIN' it through the street trying to escape the MOB, only Matt is running away from me!

So he gets accross the street and steals a bike and starts riding his bike down the damn Las Vegas Strip and I'm standing there in the middle of the street just kinda looking as he disappears in the distance, still looking DAMN HOT in my flowy red dress. So I cross the street thinking, "Well...we were heading up to MGM, so I may as well go up there to see if he's there waiting for me."

So I wobble the 2 miles up the Strip to the MGM and about this time I wake up thinking, WTF! NO WONDER I DON'T LIKE THAT GUY!!!!!

Dreams are weird and I love you.

PISSED! OFF!

So I'm sitting here writing this absolutely great comment on the page about the controvercial Tattoo article and my shit WAS DELETED! Not just MINE, but the entire COMMENTS SECTION!

I WAS ELOQUENT TOO! That pisses me off. I was trying to share with the blogger another side...I was NOT in attack mode....I was simply paraphrasing back to her her own post and commenting accordingly.

NOW...I"M IN ATTACK MODE...and HOLD ONTO YOUR BANANA PEEL, CUZ THE CAPS ARE OUT IN FULL FORCE! SHIT!

If you want an actual DEBATE, and your article is RIDDLED WITH QUESTIONS, one can only assume that you want your READERSHIP TO ANSWER THAT SHIT! So...being the sweet little ladybug that I am, I sit and actually sound pretty damned intelligent for once in my PNN life and raise awareness to some things that perhaps the blogger hadn't thought about AND THE ENTIRE ARTICLE WAS ERASED!!!!!!!!!!

SO now...I have to post my OWN SHIT to explain how PISSED OFF that I am...PLEASE...all of you...EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU...don't post something that raises questions and debate, then delete it. YOU BROUGHT IT UP AND ASKED FOR FEEDBACK, HENCE ALL THE GODDAMNED QUESTIONS YOU PEPPERED YOUR POST WITH. Just because some people pissed you off, or other bloggers have opinions different than yours, you get all KNEE JERKY and yank the freakin E-BRAKE on us. It's like a fucking punch to the gut.

THE. FUCKING. END!

WELCOME HOME AUNT FLO!!!

SHE'S HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd like to thank all the people who made this possible. Kimber and GOD...in that order. I'd like to thank Banananananan for scaring the BAJEEZUS outta me yesterday and threatened me within an inch of my life to LOOK AFTER IT! Hipchick, you laughed at my Vodka post and for that...I THANK YOU! Kate...you've been there through thick...and...well...THICK. SUZ...even though you watch too much spongebob and let the kids you babysit play with light sockets...I GOT NUTHIN BUT LOVE FO'YA! (straight outta Jerry McGuire...) Sally...you inspired me to become one with Mother Nature. Mom a.k.a. Procomicdiva, you are the wind beneath my wings. Chi...for hosting GYNO...thanks...Veggie...thanks for using my avatar...you look totally radical. Leandrea...RFL ROCKS!...COMIC...you stooopid penguin...I swear when the PMS wears off I'll stop calling you that...I promise. Writergrrl...your Yellow hat and smile brighten my worst PMS days...thanks. Annie...I love how the first sentence in one of your posts said MIND-FUCK or something like that because when I have PMS that is what I feel like...it's exhausting! LOL MN...RISLEY.....flowerbutt or whatever your new name on here is, thanks for cracking me up all week, I'm sure that the excersize was good for my uterus. Anyone else I forgot...well EXCYOOOOOOOOZZZZZZEEE ME!!!! I have PMS give me a damn break. I'll make it up to you somehow.

In closing I'd like to say that I hope Aunt Flo shrivels up and dies QUICK. Carm - OUT!

Mother FRICKIN FRICKER!

Would my period just start already? What the hell is the hold up? I'm 37 years old. We should be used to this shit by now, don'tcha think?

I suppose I just haven't been cranky enough. I guess I need to let loose of some damned NAPALMB before it gets here or WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

JJJJEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEEE!

I'm pissed...I really am...

What's in a HUG?

Oh Brother - apparently, if the Queen hugs you, you're not supposed to hug back! She better be glad that's ALL she got! Hell...I wouldda smooched her on the cheek too - can you IMAGNE the headlines?

"CARM KISSES THE QUEEN ON THE CHEEK! CODE 2319!! CODE 2319!" The guys in the yellow jumpsuits come rushing out and spray the Queens cheek with disinfectant, take her temperature and ask her if she needs to take a nap from all the excitement, while I'm swept away to Quarantine. Kinda like the scene from Monster's Inc. - only we're LADIES so they won't be shaving our heads leaving us NEKKID.

YOU GO, MICHELLE OBAMA! You handle yourself with the GRACE and LOVELINESS that you exude in everything you do and make NO APOLOGIES for ANY OF IT! The Queen couldn't keep her hands off of you. And if you wanna know the truth...you seem to me like someone who may remind the Queen of her deceased Daughter in Law...so you just keep on keepin on, Michelle, you'll get nothing but LOVE from ME!

I love you, I really do...you can ask ANYONE! ~ Carm

Teachers can be really...DUMB!

I'm a teacher advocate...but let me share with you a really STUPID situation that I encountered recently with my 7 year old and her Computer Teacher.

I picked my daughter up from daycare one day and went through the whole hug & kiss and "How was your day?" routine that we had established and her response to me has ALWAYS been, "GREAT!" and she would normally tell me about something funny she did at recess or sing a song she learned in music class or tell me how well she did on a spelling or math test.  Not today...

Today, my sweet Alissa shared with me that, "I'm mad at my class!". This is highly unusual for my child. Both of our daughters have blossomed into wonderful citizens and have been shaped and molded not just by our parenting, but the love and learning they have received by their teachers, which is why Alissa's comment bothered me so much.

When I asked her why she was mad at her class, Alissa told me that when she was in her computer class her teacher told the entire class that they were the worst class she has.

HOLY Gas all over the FREEWAY, Batman!!

Good Lord in HEAVEN, PEOPLE!

Friday night just before I get off work, one of my co-workers calls me and says..."There's a huge puddle under your van!  Looks like you leaked something all the way through the parking lot!"  Come to think of it....something DID smell quite gassy on the way into work that morning.  Sitting at a stop light I was looking around for the P.O.S. that was stinkin up the joint....oh brother...it was me!  Of course I had no CLUE until this morning...keep reading!

So I look after I get home on Friday night and there's nothing dripping under the van...made me wonder if someone pulled into my parking space at the office and kinda "dripped & dashed" so - to - speak.

Fast forward to 7:50 AM Saturday morning.  Time to head on down to Olympia for another visit with Dr. Finnegan.  I'm on the road headed to Olympia and I look over and there is a car full of people waving their arms all willy nilly and moving their mouths in very exhaggerated words YOU NEED TO PULL OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Honkin' their horns and waving like maniacs.  I'm all okay...okay...thank you...*nodding my head* As I go to put my blinker on...some other dude is honkin' up a storm and saying the same thing, the same way...with all the same arm & hand motions.  WOW! This must be SERIOUS!  Blinker still on...pulling over near the Fort Lewis Museum on I-5.  Hazzard lights a-blinkin...traffic WHIZZIN by me at mach-3.  I decide to take my life into my own hands and get out to have a look.

I get out, shut my door and walk around to the rear of the car...look underneath and HOLY $%&!  There is GASOLINE spewing from underneath the van.  Oh jeez.  Even I know this CAN'T POSSIBLY be any good! I call my hubby...he promptly gets in the car on his way to rescue me.  Second, I call my brother.  He's a Service Advisor @ Larson Dodge in Puyallup...a good person to know when driving a Dodge Caravan!  He's sleeping...CRAP! I didn't want to wake him so I asked Holly if Dodge would tow me...she told me to call and that they would.  Got that all set up and then my brother calls.  He said...."Whatever you do...DO NOT turn on the van again!  You have an electronic fuel injector and that would create a spark...SPARK + GAS = KABLOOEY!!!!!!!!"  I said....AALLLLLRIGHTY then!  Gently turned the ignition to the OFF position....*GULP*.

Wanna hear the good news?  Okay...let me just say this first...tow truck comes, hubby and I follow it to Larson Dodge and a nice girl named Regina helped me. We arrange for a rental becuse Regina thought we probably wouldn't have it back before Monday. Picked up the rental which was the BIGGEST FRIGGIN' TRUCK I HAVE EVER DRIVEN IN MY LIFE!  Drove it to home and on the way Regina calls and says..." GOOD NEWS!  It's only the fuel line that connects to the fuel pump!  It'll be $108 & some change!"  WOOHOO!  Ya see having a brother who works at a Dodge Dealership has it's perks! I get the employee discount!  ROCK ON!!!!

So that was my Saturday!  Holy crap!  Hope your weekend was REALLY uneventful!

I love you, I really do....you can ask ANYONE!