You know how every neighborhood has THAT house...?

The house that's the trashiest one around?  The one where you just know they sell drugs or handle stolen merchandise or something bad?  The one that sticks out like a sore thumb in a sea of otherwise nice enough homes?  Well, we have one on my street that inhabited by pure-d white trash.  Thankfully it's 9 or 10 down from me and I rarely have to see it (or them) but it's only 2 away from Miss Arse and is one of the banes of her existence.  Every year they decorate in typical white trash form for Christmas and as we drove around looking at lights, I noticed no one was home there.  I seized the opportunity to get a picture of their festive yard ornament for you all.  Enjoy!

And the winner is...

...not me.  I am not the winner since I'm the fool who had a few drinks and committed myself to showing my face.  *sighs and laughs*  It's worth it, though, because y'all are darn funny!  I'm still a little stunned at Bella's guess of "You are a Florida Lady, which means you are LJ, or Lady Jerky. Tanned, with a brown, spikey mullet."  A mullet, Bella? Really?  That just pained me...lol...it was funny as hell but good God, I must give off some scary impression.

Let's get to the good stuff, though, shall we?  In the end, I had a tie between Gayle and Belladonna1125!  Both were at least in the right ballpark.  See?  *waves hi to everyone*

That's me, poking fun of The Houseguest behind her back.  Never let me stand behind you in pictures...trust me.

Look!  I have a big mouth in more ways than one.  So, these were the only pictures of me that I'd dare share and since I stopped coloring my hair, I do have more gray showing now but it is still very dark, just a "salt and pepper" dark.  It is naturally nearly black, as are my eyes.  I'm 5'9" and and heavy enough I wind up in the plus sizes more often than not, which kills me.  It just doesn't kill me enough to actually, you know, *do anything about it.  Oh, and anyone who labeled my bosom as formidable and pillowy or some version thereof would be correct.  I am built like a big, strong farm woman.  I don't want to talk about that anymore, thankyouverymuch.  I do wear glasses at home and contacts when I go out.  My fingernails and toenails are always painted and I never, ever wear shorts in public.  Also, contrary to what a lot of you seemed to think and were afraid to say, I'm actually very feminine.  :-D  So, who won the contest?  I know that's what everyone is really waiting for, isn't it?  Wellllp, I wadded both names up and tossed them on the floor.  3 out of 4 cats ran, smelled the marker and backed waaaaay off.  So much for that idea.  With much encouraging and about 15 minutes of dry-time, one of my old lady cats, Ginger, finally came and sniffed very curiously at the bottom one and then pounced on and batted the top one which, of course, I didn't manage to get a picture of since I was convinced that bottom one was her choice.

Whose name was it?  It was...

Congratulations, Gayle! If you'll email me at anemonepie@yahoo.com with your name and the address you'd like your prize sent to, I'll do my damnedest to get it out this week! 

Now, I do have one last order of business.  I have a second little prize I was keeping secret...a prize for the answer that made me really laugh and I didn't mention it so that everyone gave a natural response.  I think we all know who won this prize, don't we?   No one topped Trudy's dwarf in a walker answer, which took me a minute to catch onto and then I literally cackled out loud.  That was beautiful!  Trudy,  I'll be sending you a 1 ounce bottle of Geoffrey Beene For Women.

It, too, is suitable for regifting in case you aren't into smell-good things.  I still have your address from something else so I'll send it to you there, if that's okay? 

Thanks so much for playing along with me, y'all...this was a lot of fun!

Mullet, my ass.  Damn, Bella...I still can't get over that.

Ha! I'm having a contest!

I've always wanted to do one of these and, while doing a little housekeeping (whaaaat? I'm all neat now and back to my normal, anal, housekeeping ways) I found a few items I had tucked away as gifts for unexpected events.  The thing is, we have no unexpected events anymore and these are very nice items just stored in a box.  I hate for them to waste away so I think I'll have a few little contests and gift them out.  Trust me, I have nothing as exciting as Lightroom *grins* but I do have a few things a mom who has been shopping for everyone but herself might enjoy getting.  So, let's have some fun, shall we?

My first contest ends midnight EST this Sunday (the 19th) night, so roughly 47 hours from this posting.  The prize is a 3.4 ounce bottle of Scaasi EPT spray, brand new and in the box so suitable for regifting, too!  It is described as:  "Launched by the design house of Scaasi in 1989, Scaasi is classified as a sharp, flowery fragrance. This feminine scent possesses a blend of delicious greenery and citrus, with aromatic florals and woodsy base notes of vanilla and musk. It is recommended for casual wear."

It retails for around $35 so not a bad little prize for no more than you have to do to win.  What do you have to do, you ask?  Well, it's simple.  I've decided to show my face and based on what you know about me from the blog world, including my own blog, I'd like you to tell me what you think I look like in my comments.  In detail.  And don't be shy or politically correct, spare me no mercy.  If you think I'm obese, say so.  If you think I'm wrinkled and gray, same deal.  If you think I'm an emasculated and balding  man, go for it.  If you think I'm a supermodel, I will laugh at you but appreciate the thought.  "Bitch" isn't a physical description but hey, I'll disqualify no one!  Be honest and I'll be honest back...the one that comes closest, even if it is painful for me to admit, will win.  In the event of a tie, I'll wad names up on paper and toss them on the floor.  The one Beatrice (aka Casserole Cat) picks by batting it will win. 

Sound fair?  Then let's play!


Disclaimer or something:  Some of you know I'm close friends with Robin from Big Sky.  While, weirdly, I don't know that she's seen any recent pictures of me, I'm going to disqualify her in the interest of fairness and make it up to her later.  Lol...I've been known to mail good-smelling cleaning products to her, so she won't mind.   

Keeping it real. REALLY real.

Yeah, I've been gone awhile.  I've have blogger's block or something.  More like no life.  Actually, that's not true...I've been feeling not-quite-right for a couple of weeks now, very fatigued and yes, that's important to this post.  See, I typically decorate for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving and have it done in one day.  I do the inside while Jake does the outside and so the day after Thanksgiving this year I dragged everything out and have proceeded to look at it daily, every day, all scattered, and just sort of shrug my shoulders and have a nap in the recliner.  Trust me, for a neat freak like me, this is seriously awful.  Hell, for a pig, it's awful.  Thing is, no one really believes I've let my house get *this bad since it's so unlike me and that little fact inspired me to take pictures of it today.  We may as well all laugh about it, no?  And unlike so many bloggers who talk about "keeping it real" while showing a small pile of  fake dirty dishes in their sink while swearing their house is a sty,  I'm going to show you what "keeping it real" is really like in my house right now.  I figure y'all will divide off into two groups - those freaked out and swear you will never eat anything out of my kitchen or set foot in my door and those who want to hug me for making your own homes look more normal.  Be sure to tell me which group you fit into.  ;-)

Now, I don't know what y'all find when you move your loveseat, but this is what I found under mine when I moved it to make room for the Christmas tree.  I was missing that Chapstick and a spare AAA battery is always nice to have.  I know I felt like I hit a little jackpot. 

Here's a portion of my living room floor, by my entertainment center.  Oh, there are many items of interest here, from a filthy vacuum that needs emptied *and cleaned to the pile of dirty laundry with an old, ratty bra tossed on top, to the poor cat who took refuge (minus that one leg) in her pirate ship. I cannot stress enough that this is in the middle of my living room and has been for days.

This is the view from my living room into my dining room and yes, I know I have a tiny house.  Such is life.  :-)

Please note the beautifully draped curtains in the dining room, the table and chairs shoved aside,  the Christmas tree box, the laundry basket...oh, just all of it.  Bask in it.  And while you're at it, be very, very jealous you don't have a green bungee cord hanging out of your loveseat, too.

Ahhh, the view to the front door.  Please note the pile of towels in front of the TV and the Walmart bag of trash on my front door knob.  Flotsam and jetsam, it's the only way to be thinking right now.  Oh, and that's my recliner I speak so fondly of.  Everyone, meet Recliner. Recliner, meet the people I leave you for.  That's also my 14 year old, 27" TV.  Go me!

 

 

I did buy a new Glade warmer in some holly berry somethingorotherscent the other day.  The entire package made it to the top of the entertainment center along with the new pot I bought for warming scented oils. I did, at least, open that.  Oh, hey, I see my dead cell phone back there now.  I've been wondering where that was.

 

More of the same, different angle, below.   When it is vacuumed, that rug actually has distinct colors.

Lest you think this is all artfully staged like some (a-hem) people do, allow me to show you the cat brush full of hair that has laid on the coffee table for at least 3 days.

 

I will say, my kitchen is fairly clean but we do have a few health hazards going on, like Gina in the napkin basket up on top of the fridge.  Is now the time to share that she has tumors in her ears that tend to open and drain?  No?  Oh, I'm sorry.

 

Well, you'll at least come for dinner, won't you?  We're having a casserole.

 

And that, folks, is what "keeping it real" is all about.  I'm ashamed, yes, but I'm also amused and figured if I can't be a role model, I can at least set a bad example.   Have at me.  I deserve it.  :-D

Did you know I have a favorite preacher?

I do.  Is it weird for a non-Christian to have a favorite preacher?  I wonder that sometimes, but there's not much I can do about it.  I know many of you enjoyed learning about Huston Smith and hopefully you'll take some time and enjoy learning about Carlton Pearson, too.  Every time I listen to him, I'm left with the thought that finally...FINALLY...someone is trying to get Christianity back on track and back to what Jesus really taught.  And that?  Warms this non-Christian's heart.  Watch these, if you have the time and then, if you have a little more time, tell me what you think.  :-)

The day from hell has many hours left.

Last night sucked.  I had nightmares, bad ones, and interspersed with the nightmares, I had a cat who vomited all night long.  Lovely, no?  I realize now that I should have embraced those moments as being wonderful instead of  feeling all sorry for myself, but did I?  Oh, noooooo.  I decided to call it done around 8am, stumbled to get together a cup of instant coffee and slipped in some vomit I missed.  Down I went, taking out an already-troublesome knee and covered in what was, at one point, last night's Fancy Feast.  I'm fairly certain I said "motherfucker" a few times, in case anyone wonders.  I'm not one to give in to adversity, though, so I crawl up, and still determined that caffeine will help, I make my coffee and gimp off to my recliner. As I sat there, drinking coffee and whining to Miss Arse, I realize I feel very wet.  My immediate thought was, "Dear God, did I just lose control of my bladder and didn't even know it?" because, if I'm honest, that's just one of those burdens I expect God to give me to bear one of these days. I jump and feel around, realizing that cat vomit wasn't the worst of my worries...one of my precious little spawns of the devil had peed in my recliner.  But, oh, the worse things get, the more I am determined to find it all funny and strap my chipper mood on.  So, I gather up the quilt I always have it covered with and take to the leather with Lysol.  At this point, I relax because really, that's enough for anyone to have happen in one morning.  Jake gets up, we get dressed quickly since he got called to work on very short notice and I figure I'll shower when I get back in about 15 minutes, we go out to the car and guess what, chicken butt?  My car is dead.  Thankfully, I'm fairly car-savvy and know immediately it's the battery, but why?  Nothing was left on and the battery is less than 2 years old.  But, this will not break me.  I will just take that battery out, bum a ride from a neighbor to the autoparts store and get a new one.  This?  Is not awful, I figure...it could be worse, anyway.  I go to get my tools and oh, please, guess what happened!  Please!  If you guessed that someone had been in my utility room and stole my tool box, a grinder and my Dent King thingie, you'd win the prize.  I debated about calling the cops but really, why?  I'll never see that stuff again.  But now, here I am with no tools and a battery that needs to be taken out.  Ever resourceful, I flagged down a man who lives around the corner and who happened to be driving past...I don't know him, but I figured we'd be friends after this.  He was nice enough to come back and even remove the battery.  Ahhh, a sign the day is going better.  I got another neighbor to take me to the auto parts store where they determined that yup, the battery is dead.  The good news is, they can recharge it and it'll be fine.  I admit, I wasn't too thrilled with this idea but it was free and they were convinced it would be fine, so I went with it.  As I was leaving, a nice older man told me to bring the car in once I get it installed and they'll test it with the car running to make sure it's okay.  Will do.  Get it in,  return the new neighbor-friend's tools he lent me and go have my car checked, where they promptly tell me the battery is reading bad.   Whatfuckever, at this point.  I buy a new battery and listen to them tell me what I need to relay to a repair shop as far as electrical drains and I leave, taking Jake to work.  On the way home I stop in Winn Dixie figuring I'd test things by shutting the car off and if it was dead, I was in a safe, easy spot close to home for Miss Arse to come get me.  I carefully found a parking space where I could pull all the way through in case I needed to be towed out or something, expecting the worst.  I buy my chicken and some more Lysol, get back in the car, hold my breath and turn the key.  It starts!!  Finally, *finally, something went right!  I just wanted to cry with relief.   As I sat there basking in the glow of a working battery, I am suddenly shot forward out of my parking space by about a foot.  I knew.  I just knew that particular feeling and as I looked back, sure enough, some old guy had pulled in behind me and lost control, back-ending me in a freaking parking space.  Ugh.  I get out, he's about to cry, I'm about to cry, we do the whole exchange information thing and I reassure him I am not going to sue him as long as his insurance covers the (amazingly minor) damage.  I tell myself I made my second new friend of the day because I'm all about positive spins and bluebirds of happiness, dontcha know.  Me, my bad knee, my car, my crooked bumper, my new battery and my chicken make it home and all I can think of is a hot shower and food.  I'm stripping clothes off as I walk to my bathroom, climb in the shower and oooh, what do we have here?  No water?  NO FUCKING WATER?  Oh, hell,  no.  No, no and no.  I call the water company and they tell me I was notified several days ago that they'd have my water off all this afternoon to repair some pipes.  Bullshit, I was notified.  I was not.  I argue with the woman and she argues back.  Then she clearly informs me that I did have a hang tag put on my front door.  I did?  On my front door, the one I never, ever use and that probably hasn't been opened in 3 months?   Why, yes indeedy, there's that tag on my front door knob, tucked safely behind my storm door so that no human being could possibly see it from the yard or anything.  *eyeroll*

So, here I sit.  Filthy from cat vomit and urine, knee all swelled up, starving but not wanting to get around food until I've showered, exhausted, dreading dealing with an insurance company over bumper repairs that I just know I won't be happy with,  dreading dealing with a repair shop about the electrical problem, worn out and I'll be damned, this day isn't over yet.  But, I did get a rotisserie chicken for $2.99 and that was a good thing.  See?  I'm just a little ray of hopeful fucking sunshine, I am.