I Just Don't Have A Clue

P called last night to let me know that she's waiting for me to decide where and what tattoo design I want. At this moment, I don't have a clue. I do want a tattoo but....

I've thought about a toe ring-I like wearing them in the summer with sandals or bare foot. And I've thought about on my back - what to do, what to do!

As for the design....ugh! The pressure is getting to me!

I am open for suggestions.

If You Don't Like What You Read...Stay Out of My Blog

I've learned that some of my posts have incensed a few people...just so you know this is my blog. I write about things when I'm happy, mad, depressed or just don't give a crap.

Yes, my husband, kids, family and friends infuriate me at times then on the other hand, they can my heart sing. Sometimes I get so depressed that I want the whole world to go away and leave me the hell alone!

So if you nose around my blog, don't like what you read, or become offended, don't blame or take it out on me...I can't help it if you wear your feelings on your shirtsleeve or can't handle the truth.

You've been warned...read at your own risk!

My Dream May Come True After All...

Monday, Aug 15 was Hollywood's first day of school. This year she is taking Latin. I was somewhat worried when she told me this. As some of you know, my desire is to be an Italian or at least pretend...I bought a CD that teaches conversational Italian. When I listened to them (driving in the car with HW) she would roll her eyes and say - Mom just stick to English - you're not Italian. After that comment, I purposely tortured her with the CD's every time we got in the car (hee-hee).

Monday after school, Holly was excited about her Latin class.

Mom! I think Latin is going to be my favorite class

Holly - stick to English - you're not Latin. (She handed me a mountain of papers to sign - one from her Latin class)

Holly did you read this paper before signing it?

Yes Mom.

Holly are you sure?

Yes Mom.

I really don't think you did - read it again and be sure to reread #6.

(Sigh) hand it to me Mom. OMG! Eyes big as softballs!!!

You didn't read it did you? If you had you would have noticed -

"This year the Latin class will be going to Italy (Rome or Paris) if there is enough interest and according to world events." The trip costs around $2000.00/person

ITALY! Our class is going to Italy!

I've got to call your daddy!!

Hubby - hello?

You're not going to believe this! Holly's Latin class is going to Italy!

You're kidding

NO! YIPPEEEEEE It's going to cost $4000.00 for both of us to go.

Um...you're going have to save up some money

I know...I'm so happy...I can't believe it! Oh happy day!

This will mean that Holly and you won't get to go to Texas with the band.

I don't care! It's Italy!

I'm so happy! I can't believe it! Let me call you back after while.

Mom! I have to go to Texas. It's a competition!

Not if we're going to Italy!

Mom calm down...what if the teacher (Latin) won't let you go?

Oh I'm going. Don't think for one second I'm NOT!!!

Holly's eyes are rolling as she smiles...

Lost track of time - Holly and I get ready for bed.

Still beaming...I lie in bed trying to remember the little Italian that I learned oh well, it's time to break out the CD's and check for Italian classes here at the state college.

Holly recently told me that she burned my CD's - I really can't find them...the little hussy!

Hey Satan! I hear you got a problem....

Marti has graciously offered me the opportunity to hone my sweet blogging skills on HER blog. This, then is my story, and I'm stickin' to it.............

It is common knowledge in my family that my husband is... how shall I put this? A little quick on the draw in the bedroom.... Of course, if he KNEW that he was the source of many a joke and snarky remark, well, let's just say he wouldn't look too favorably on me.

Why is it common knowledge? Why, because I TOLD them, of course! Idiot that I am, I actually believed that I could have an intelligent conversation with them about something that was bothering me. The conversation went a little somethin' like this:

Me: Hey boys, I need to talk to you about something...
Mitch: What? I have no money, so forget it...
Mark: Yeah, me neither.... (butt kissing fucktard)
Me: No, no, it's not about money, thank you very much. It's about sex...
Mitch: (sitting down) Well, THIS ought to be interesting. What do you need to know, sister?
Mark: Yeah, and after SHE's done, I have some questions too brother.

Of course THIS starts a round of good natured punching, laughing, and joke telling. I wait, tapping my foot on the floor.

Mitch: Oh, sorry Chick, what's the problem?
Me: Well, I was wondering.... what's the usual time... you know, before a man.... what I mean to say is, how long does it generally take.... hmm, this is harder than I thought it was gonna be.. Ok, (taking a deep breath) how long does the sexual act USUALLY take?
Mitch: (on his face a serious, caring look) Well, it just depends... I'd say.. an hour, hour and a half...
Mark: Yeah, an hour, hour and a half usually. (slimy brown nosed YES man)
Me: (dumbstruck) C'mon, boys, I'm SERIOUS.
Mitch: So am I! You know, it's important to us MEN, (he gives a look to Mark to go along with this) that we give pleasure to our WOMEN, and so we prolong the act, as long as possible, to see that our women receive ultimate pleasure.

NOW, the two of them are grinning at each other. They've suspected the source of my misery, and like dogs on a hunt, are determined to pull the terrible truth out of me.

Mitch: I'm sure it's the same with you and Satan. Satan will want to make sure you are fully satisfied, before he reaches HIS climax. (He stands up to perform what I am sure he thinks is a MANLY pelvic thrust, into the AIR) After you get yours, he can get BUSY with it....

At this point, I'm still thinking the boys are trying to help me, irrespective of the pelvic thrusts. They certainly SEEM concerned and caring, don't they?

Me: Oh.... an hour, hour and a half huh?
Mitch: Well, sometimes less, I guess, if they don't have any self CONTROL. How long does Satan generally last? A half hour? That's certainly nothing to be ashamed of.
Me: Well...
Mark: Yeah, sister, you gotta give the guy a break, a half hour is good...
Me: Yeah, but what if it's less than a half hour?
Mitch: How much less than a half hour? Fifteen to twenty minutes? If he knows what he's doing, that's still a perfectly respectable time.
Me: Hmmm, ok then. Thanks for the help, brothers!
Mitch: Well, wait a minute, Chick. How long does he generally last? About fifteen minutes?
Me: Well, not quite, not 15 minutes. No.
Mitch: (Covering his mouth with his hand to hide his grin.) C'mon, Mel. Tell us. We are here to HELP you. We're your brothers. You have no reason to be ashamed to tell us anything.
Me: Well, ok. I guess. I mean, if you really ARE trying to help me.
Mitch: Of COURSE we are, that's what brothers do, isn't it, Mark?
Mark: Huh? What? (he's become completely engrossed in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, to the point of giggling at Bugs' wacky antics) Yeah, right. Here to help. Go ahead, Chicker. Tell us.
Mitch: How long does Satan last in the sack, Sister?
Me: About 3-5 minutes. If I'm lucky. But most of the time, I'm not lucky.

They just look at me, with this dumb look of disbelief. They don't even DARE to look at each other.

Mitch: Mel, surely you're just losing track of time, in the heat of the moment, right?
Mark: Yeah, you must just not be paying attention... you're not doing something right, or something.
Me: What the hell do you mean, I'm not doing something right? Of COURSE I'm not losing track of time. Time has to PASS before you can lose track of it! We have not had sex ONE time, when it lasted more than 5 minutes. What do you think I am, an IDIOT? Not doing something right... Well THAT is the fucking understatement of all time!

They look at each other and mouth the words "5 minutes?". Then they break down. They fucking LOSE it. They laugh. They yell. They hold their sides and wheeze. They punch each other. They repeat it over and over, "5 minutes", like a mantra. They ask each other over and over, "Did you hear her? She said 5 minutes! Oh God, that's funny."

Finally, they wind it down. Just a chuckle now and then is heard from them, as they wipe their eyes, and sit back down...

From that moment forward, I lived in fear and dread. My brothers talked about sex non stop. They didn't care who was around, they didn't care what the occasion was. They were CONSTANTLY debating, and discussing their sexual conquests.... And of course, they took up the cause of passively agressively making my life a living hell.

Anytime they happened to be around when Satan and I visited mom and Dad's house, you would hear any of the following statements gushing forth from one of their mouths:

"Hey, guys! Satan, you're EARLY! What happened, couldn't Mel give you 5 MINUTES to get ready?"

"Hey Satan, take off your jacket, man! You're gonna stay longer than 5 MINUTES aren't you?"

"Hey Satan, sit down and let's watch this movie for a little while. About 5 MINUTES is all you can stand, though."

"Wow, guys I'm tired! I'm gonna go to bed in about 5 MINUTES. I don't think I can LAST any longer than that."

It went on and on. I lived in constant fear. Luckily, Satan was a dumb sort of fuck, and had no idea what in the hell the boys were doing. Many a time, he commented to me, "Your brothers are weird." But thank God, he never caught on. He was and is a VERY private person. My sharing tales of his sexual prowess would have been tantamount to TREASON. I am not exaggerating this at all. Once he overheard me and his sister, making jokes about how many times we did it in a night. Of course, to HIS sister, I preached him up to be the stud of the universe. Didn't matter. He didn't speak to me for a week.

So, needless to say, our family get-togethers were fraught with tension for me. So much so that I began to make excuses for why we couldn't attend. Did this matter to my brothers? Not one whit. Especially to Mitch. If I didn't go there, he'd come HERE with a six pack and a pizza and a smile.

Then came what I like to refer to as THE GREAT STA-HARD DEBACLE. Never were their words to put more fear in my heart. As I recall, it went a little somethin' like THIS:

Rrrriiinnggg! I walk over to pick up the phone.

Me: Hello?
Mitch: Hey Chicker!
Me: Hey Mitch! When did you guys get in?
Mitch: A little while ago. How's about I pick up some beer and a pizza and me and Jeannie and Christy come up for a movie?
Me: Uh....
Mitch: C'mon sister, I'll behave. I want to spend some quality time with my little sister.
Me: (whispering) ok, buster, but you'd BETTER behave.
Mitch: I will, I promise. I'll be there in about an hour.

I wait impatiently for them to arrive, torn between excitement in seeing them all again, and fear of what he might say.

They arrive, and true to his word, Mitch behaves like a gentleman. We are having a very good time, and then I go to the bedroom for something. I hear something at the door, and look up. There stands my brother, grinning like a cheshire cat.

Mitch: Hey, Chick! Can I come in?
Me: (sitting on the bed) sure. Come on in.
Mitch: So this is the inner sanctum, huh? This where the MAGIC happens?
Me: Mitchell.... you PROMISED!
Mitch: No, no, I was just wondering. Have things gotten any better?
Me: None of your fucking business. I am not stupid enough to trust you NOW.
Mitch: So, that's a NO then, right? Well, don't worry, Chick. I have solved your problem for you. I brought a little somethin' for Satan.
Me: What do you mean, you brought a little somethin' for him? Mitchell, you BETTER not have brought him any marijuana.
Mitch: NO! No, I brought his this cream, it's called Sta-Hard, and you rub it.....
Me: MITCHELL, ARE YOU CRAZY!! You can't give him that! He'll KILL me! Oh dear God, you have to promise me that you won't give him that.
Mitch: Will you stop worrying? I plan to bring it up in causal conversation...
Me: Mitchell, listen to me. YOU CANNOT TEASE SATAN. It doesn't work. He will kick your ass, then he will kick mine.
Mitch: He can't kick Jeannie's ass, though. She's a black belt.
Me: So? He'll just SHOOT her, then.
Mitch: Good grief, you are way too paranoid. I can be subtle! Subtle is my middle name.
Me: YOU? SUBTLE? Your middle name is "Fuck-Me-World! I'm-Coming-at-Ya!"
Mitch: Sister, you are getting tense.
Me: No, I will be getting DIVORCED, if you show him that cream. He will DIVORCE me Mitchell. You have no idea how private he is. YOu can't do this, Oh God! The Shame of IT ALL!
Mitch: Your middle name is "DRAMA-is-my-middle-NAME!" Chill out, and I will tell you how I'm gonna bring it up.
Me: You can't bring it up.
Mitch: I'm gonna lean back on the couch, put my feet up on the coffee table, look at Satan, and say "So Satan.... Melody tells me...
Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Mitch: You got a problem with your pecker?"

And with that, he turns and leaves the room. I get down on my knees. "Hello, God? It's Mel. I need you to strike my brother dead before he gets to the living room. I promise not to ask for anything else, ever again, Amen."

Well, God didn't answer that prayer, which is SO like God. The rest of the evening was spent in gut-clenching misery, as Mitch prefaced ever other sentance with "So, Satan..."

Finally, finally, it came time for them to leave. I heaved a sigh of relief. Another catastrophe, narrowly avoided. Mitch and his wife and daughter get to the door, and Mitch turns back...

"So, Satan, " he says. "Mel tells me you've got a problem?"

I had to sit down. This then, would be the night of my demise. Visions of blood dripping and oozing from various parts of my body swam through my head. I began composing a list of what I might take with me should I survive the night. Let's see, the refrigertor, mom and dad bought that for me, I can take it. My stereo, and I'll take that little t.v. in the bedroom. Probably won't be able to see out of my swollen, black eyes much anyway.....

Satan looks at Mitch. "What kind of problem?"

Mitch smiles sweetly at me.

Sweet, sweet Lord. Save me.

"Oh she said it wass something about your truck. I was just gonna offer to help you if you need any help. You can have Mel call me. G'night!"

Satan looked over at me to ask what THAT was all about.

But I had collapsed in a fit of hysterical giggles.

Thanks, Marti! Have a great day, everyone!

melodyann

Why Women Are Crabby

We started to "bud" into our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find out that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.

Our next little rite of passage (premarital or not) was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils, leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.

Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.

Our once flat bellies looked like we had swallowed a watermelon whole and we pee our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.

Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says,"Please stop screaming", Mrs. HEAR ME ROAR. Calm down and push. Just one more good push (More like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the OB and hubby square in the face for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 lb bowling ball through a keyhole.

After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that "cute" wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, ,jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.

Then... come their teen years. Need I say more?

When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's while hubby had his some where around his 18th birthday and is now all but null and void.

So we progress into the grand finale: "The Menopause," the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned "buds" or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or sweat like a hog, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men when men get off so easy INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...

So, while I love being a woman, "Womanhood" would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby.

Women are the "weaker sex"? Yeah right. Bite me.

The Seven Dwarfs of Menopause.
Itchy, Bitchy, Sweaty, Sleepy, Bloated, Forgetful and Psycho

I'm Still Here

my work morning routine consists of, first one in the office - turn on lights, wait until the next person comes in to make coffee (too much complaining over mine - it's so strong it'll put hair on your chest), turn on and login to computer, check emails and phone messages. i can hardly contain the anticipation and excitement - see if anybody stopped by my blog for a visit, read sister's and friends blog. i swear Lu and Vicki make my day with their stories. i hope vicki will buy a map or compass - no more atlanta/alabama/tennessee trips......lu's was so FUNNY this morning - still laughing!

with sisters and friends like you, who needs the comics.

Help I'm Stuck and Can't Get Out

I've been stuck in a funk for over a week now and can't seem to snap out of it. Maybe I should start experimenting with my antidepressants (again).

My family (hubby and kid) has hurt me so bad...Maybe I'm being too sensitive or wearing my feelings on my shoulders but I am crushed and am having a hard time dealing with it. My dad is very sick (he lives 2 hrs from me). He is in congestive heart failure and has pneumonia. When sis called me with this news on Tuesday night, I immediately wanted to go help Dad & Mom. The wheels starting turning, I was making provisions for Hollywood - transportation to and from HS for band camp.

I called hubby - "Dad is sick. Could you take a couple of days off and come home and stay with Holly so that I can go help mom?"
Hubby - "Is he in the hospital?"
Me - "Not yet"
Hubby - "Why can't Lu go over to their house and help?"
Me - "Because she has a 5 yr old and a 2 yr old, somebody will need to watch them." (I knew this conversation was over) "Just forget about it, I'll call Heather." - click.

Called Heather - "Papa is sick; can you stay at the house with Holly until your dad comes home for the weekend?"
Heather - "Mom, (using her whinny voice) why can't Holly come stay with me?" "Why do I have to come up there?"
Me - "Because your car is about to blow up and instead of making four 20-25 min trips to the HS, you would have to make four 5-10 min trips.
Heather - "Mom (still whining) but S stuff is here and I have to babysit T".
Me - "T lives 2 blocks from our house and S (4 yrs old) can bring stuff here to the house. Heather I need you to do this for me."
Heather - "Mom I really don't want to and S wouldn't want to go that long without seeing her daddy."
Me - "Forget it Heather. I'll make other arrangements."
Heather - "What are you going to do?"
Me- "Don't you worry about it. It's not your problem. I'll handle it." - click. She called me three times before I answered. Again I told her to not worry about it.

I called hubby back and told him not to take any time off.
Hubby - "Why?"
Me- "I just won't go to my parents house and help" - click.

After I finished both conversations, I sat in the chair and cried. My heart had been ripped out and was lying on the floor. I thought to myself...I sure as hell hope I don't get sick...I would just have to tough it out or lie there and die. No help from hubby or kid.

My sister-in-law called not long after all was said and done. I told her what was going on. She said she would help with Holly. I love her so much and appreciate the offer. I didn't take her up on it because she recently had knee replacement surgery and is doing great, but I don't want to make it hard on her getting in and out of the car and driving. Besides, I thought that I could depend upon my hubby or kid. P thank you so much and I will definitely call you first next time I need some help.


After all of that...hubby finished work early and came home Thursday morning. He has yet to ask about Dad or ask why I haven't left to go help Mom and Dad.

Mel, I think I may have one up on you with Satan.

100 Things About Me

1) I'm very much in love with my husband.
2) I have two great daughters.
3) I can't believe that my oldest daughter will be 20 and my youngest will be 16 this year.
4) I was born in Elizabethton, TN (East TN).
5) I am the oldest of four.
6) I have two wonderful sisters.
7) I have one immature brother-still waiting for him to grow up.
8) I use to collect caterpillars and kept them in a cigar box-in my sock drawer.
9) Mom was not amused.
10) I use to fight in school.
11) I lost my virginity at age 15.
12) I wanted to be a truck driver.
13) I would practice while driving dad's ton truck.
14) I lived on a farm with horses, chickens, cows, goats and pigs.
15) I don't live on or near a farm and don't want to. Too much work.
16) Dad thinks I'm a "city" girl.
17) I use to have to chop up firewood-with an ax.
18) I've broke and trained horses for Pleasure and Western Saddle Show.
19) I played the clarinet in junior and high school.
20) I can't play the clarinet-I forgot how.
21) My best friend and I were two of four students selected out of the state of Tennessee through 4-H to attend the World's Fair in Knoxville, TN for baking the best biscuit.
22) To this day, I can't bake a biscuit.
23) Ever since I was eight years old, I wanted to own a jaguar (car).
24) 31 years later still want to own a jaguar-probably never will.
25) My first car was a 1972 Pontiac Lemans.
26) Guys loved me and dated me for my car.
27) I learned how to "pop" the clutch and do donuts.
28) I out ran the police in it and would drag race down the middle of a small country town.
29) Dad sold it right out from under me-he was afraid I was going to get hurt.
30) I wished I still had that car.
31) Christmas is my favorite holiday-I love to decorate.
32) I wished there was a Santa Claus and flying reindeer.
33) I put up six 8 ft. Christmas trees-and would put up more if I had them or if Bret would let me buy more.
34) I love to spend the holidays with my friends and family.
35) I hate the winter season-no color.
36) I love the spring and fall season-lots of color.
37) I like to watch college football games.
38) I like to watch women's college basketball-especially the Lady Vols.
39) I played basketball in junior and high school.
40) I wanted to be a basketball coach.
41) I was going to join the army after I graduated from high school...I got married instead and with no regrets.
42) I married Bret three weeks after meeting him.
43) We eloped-I was mad at dad.
44) I would do it all over again.
45) I never attended college.
46) My parents haven't lived in the same city with me for 19 years and I desperately miss spending time with them.
47) I've lived in the same city for 20 years.
48) My dad is a pastor and has moved from church to church-A LOT.
49) I almost drowned when I was 6 months pregnant with our first daughter.
50) My brother couldn't swim but jumped in the deep end on top of me-we were going under for the third time, Lu rescued me.
51) I am terrified of bridges and water...while pregnant with first daughter I had nightmares of wrecking off bridges and the two of us drown.
52) I blame my brother.
53) I've been to a Psychiatrist for depression-he prescribed me two antidepressants. I didn't want to venture anymore into my past-I was glad he didn't push the issue.
54) I fight depression daily.
55) I sometimes want to end my life and not deal with the depression.
56) I have a plan for committing suicide.
57) I haven't followed through with my plan because I don't want to screw up my girls lives.
58) I'm not in denial-isn't that river in Egypt. (hee , hee)
59) I want to be a stay at home mom(SAHM).
60) I spend too much money-no chance of being a SAHM.
61) I have one daughter left at home-she is 15.
62) I have stayed at this job location going on 10 years-the longest I've stayed at one place.
63) I don't want to be at this place or at this job for 10 more years.
64) I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
65) I want to have surgery done to lose weight and keep it off forever.
66) I don't weigh enough to qualify-I have to gain more weight.
67) If I believed in reincarnation, I would want to be an Italian.
68) I believe in God and heaven.
69) I believe in Satan and hell.
70) I really want to make it to heaven.
71) Bret and I took ballroom dancing lessons and danced on the rooftop of the Harbor View Inn while on vacation in Charleston, SC.
72) Did I say I am very much in love with my husband?
73) I want to go on a road trip riding a motorcycle with Bret.
74) I want to go to Italy.
75) I am trying to learn Italian.
76) I've been to Charleston, SC...fell in love with my husband all over again.
77) I've been to Chicago...absolutely loved it.
78) I've been to New Orleans...absolutely hated it-too much water and bridges.
79) I went on a cruise to the Bahamas with Heather and the high school band as a chaperone.
80) I was drugged pretty much the whole time on the boat.
81) I want to travel all over the world.
82) I've eaten kangaroo-it had a very good taste.
83) I love raw oysters...got Lu hooked on them too.
84) I LOVE guacamole
85) I love to cook but never do.
86) We eat out for every meal.
87) I've smoked a cigar-it had a very good taste.
88) I don't like to read, I get bored with it.
89) I don't listen to the news or read a newspaper.
90) I would love to be a writer, the kind that makes people hold their breath while reading the words. (ironic statement)
91) I want a tattoo but am afraid of contracting a disease and I'm not sure of the design.
92) Holly tells me that I am so brutally honest that it hurts.
93) I still get excited about Christmas and my birthday.
94) I don't want to get so old that my husband or kids would have to take care of me.
95) When I die, I want to be cremated.
96) I am not a morning person.
97) I am not a night owl.
98) I think of myself as a "brunch" (midmorning) kind of person.
99) I hate looking at myself in the mirror.
100) I love laughing with my friends, kids, husband and family.