Feets don't fail me now!

You know what is really funny later, but isn't so much at the time?  When you sit on the toilet for too long and your legs fall asleep.

I have encountered this problem a few times thanks to my smartphone's access to internet, games, texting, and whatnot.  

I wasn't feeling to well at work tonight so I was going through my checklist of things, have I eaten today? Have I had enough water?  Did I poop yet?   Well, I did eat some pizza that I am now regretting, but I did need some water, and then I decided to take that trip to the bathroom.

I knew I wasn't going to be done yet, but that feeling of dead weight in my legs began to sink in.  And then I started to panic.  Are my legs going to wake up in time to walk me out of here?  What if I fall?  That would be embarassing, and I don't remember the last time these stalls were mopped!?

So I said a prayer after I did my paperwork and slowly stood.  Okay good, they woke up.  Here we go to wash our hands.  By the time I made my way to the sink that ridiculous pins and needles feeling began to prickle and tickle my feet with every step.  And I thanked God that my older brother Matt wasn't around because the last time his leg fell asleep I started slapping it.  I could only imagine the pay back I would have received.

After a sufficient hand washing, I began to make my way down the hallway giggling.  Are you aware of how strange it is laughing like a small child by yourself in the middle of a 2000 square foot foyer?  Which made me laugh harder.  So not only was my body torturing itself by tickles, I had the giggles. 

Now back in my office with the normal feeling in my legs, I feel slightly better physically and mentally, I am probably crazy, because I am thinking, could you imagine this happening to the president?  The Pope?  Colin Powell?  And any other major figure.  Try not to laugh at the thought of that as they walk towards a group of people with that stiff leg, slow step into the public eye.

I Laugh in the Face of Children

I love my nieces and nephews dearly.  I think they offer great comedic relief at times when conversations with adults lack personality. conversations with kids just go better sometimes.

That is of course, unless you are talking to my 5 year old niece that happens to know everything and will gladly tell you so in an argument.

One particular day, my patience was wearing particulary thin with the child so I was doing my best to favor her three year old brother because that is just how i deal with children, I play them off one another.  

My nephew and I share a common interest in the show Fraggle Rock.  My favorite character is "The Great, and All Knowing,  Incredible Trash Hep. Meeeeehh"

The best part about the whole thing is the whiney "Meeeeehhh" by her introductors Phino and Grunge, the rats that discovered her and act as her lackeys.  So my nephew and I will randomly go up to each other and say "TRASH HEAP!" and the other will respond with a hearty "Meeeeeeeh"

So my niece, not one to miss an opportunity for redemption, runs up to me and goes, "Hey Julia! Uhhh....  uhmm..... uhhhhh......" and then she blankly stared at me and said "GARBAGE PILE!!! Ewwwwww."

And there we have it.  she committed fully to what she was saying and she looked like a buffoon.  and thats all I ask out of life.  To make sure that every5 yea r old has a moment to bring themselves off their pedestals and just see to it that they fail with confidence.  Because God knows all we need on this earth is a 5 year old that knows it all.

Typical West Ender

I went on a service retreat this past weekend with some students.  At our work sites there were plenty of times for bonding and chats about nothing in particular.

One of those chats we had was about an experience this teenage girl had at the Mississippi Valley Fair.   Her friend's dad picked up the group of girls and on the drive home he was doing as a good parent would by asking about the day.

One of the girls began a story about a group of people that they saw.  Now, before I go any further, this is a group of kids that come from a more privileged background than your typical Quad Citians.

She began to describe a man that had been partaking in alcohol consumption, wore a wife beater and blue jean cut offs.  The father's response was "Typical Westenders"

For a moment as this story went on, I thought about defending my home territory but ultimately decided after perusing my memories that the Father was right.  The west end of Davenport is your typical white trash.  And tonight at Rockingham Hy-Vee, I realized, so am I.

I was talking to Mike over the phone on my way home from work about dinner.  Sebby was in the back seat passed out.  We decided it was too hot to grill out, but not too hot for a hot n ready from Little Caesars.  So I hung up and dialed in for a Supreme.  Its my fave.

While driving home I began thinking about how much I appreciate my husband's hard work ethic and I thought, its Friday night!  My man deserves a beer!  So after picking up the "zah" I headed to my local grocers and selected a 6 pack of Amberbock for my hubby.

On a Friday night of a holiday weekend, I stood in line for check out.  Baby on my right hip, and a 6 pack in my left hand.  Got a few weird looks but no one said anything. And I realized all at once.  The only thing keeping me from looking like a true west ender was that it was a fancy bottle 6 pack of Amberbock and not 30 case of Keystones.

I walked out of the store with the baby on my hip and my head held high.
Happy Fourth everyone!  Now get out there and celebrate America by blowing up a small portion of it!

Compromise.... We haz it.

Mike and I have started a wonderful thing.  We call it Monday Night Grocery getting.   Thats right.
It begins on Sunday.  Over dinner, we discuss the foods that tempt our taste buds and plan our dinner meals for Monday through Sunday.

The on Monday night, we pack up Lil' Sebastian and we head out to Wal-Mart and get the baby food for the week.  Then we take a ride over to Hy-Vee and get the grown up food for the week.

This all sounds mature and domestic, but we are deep into week 2 of this adventure and I am already seeing flaws in the system.  You see, Thursday night this week is supposed to be salad.  I hate salad.  I don't see it as a main course.  Not even with grilled chicken on top.  I want sides, and a real meat.  What can you side with salad when the salad is just a larger portion of a side?

I decided to get creative.  Tonight, for dinner, I am making cheeseburger salad.  Its basically the most awesome thing I've ever thought of.  Picture this, lettuce, tomato, cheese, onion, croutons.  Your typical salad no?  Add this, pickles, and ground beef.  Bam.  Cheeseburger salad.  Now, do I do ketchup as a dressing, OOOORRRRRR  Add bacon bits and stick with a classic Ranch dressing for a bacon ranch burger salad?  

Too much?

Get off my lawn!

Whenever my doorbell rings, I usually get really annoyed. Sometimes its good though. Like when the UPS guy does it as a common courtesy then leaves. I like that. But this year has been a ridiculous one.

3-4 Home Security salesmen have rang my doorbell offering to install a free security system in my home. This always seems too good to be true so I always decline. Honestly I don't think it is worth the time or energy. I really don't have many treasures worth protecting when I am not home. I'll tell you what I got. A tv, a computer, and a wii. That's about it. All easily replaceable. Not really worth much. Anything of value that I own is not here.

So anyway, my mind wanders. Why is my neighborhood targeted by so many security companies? Is there something I don't know about the crime rate of my quiet little neighborhood? Ever since redneck Vern moved out from across the street, and the coked out stripper two houses down, this neighborhood has been police free for 2 years. Honestly, even when we had them as neighbors, the cops were only called on those 2 houses and it was usually a full moon (Because Vern was nekkid) and alcohol was always involved. That's right, just your good ol fashioned white trash neighbors.

So, why else are we targeted? My neighborhood is honestly misunderstood. I live in an area where people assume is trashy because of an area nearby. While our homes are small, and many houses on my block are rental properties, pretty much everyone is an honest hard working household that are just living the American dream. Go a block to the east, and you've found yourself in a neighborhood where you might want to wear a body condom. The yards are filled with trash, grass is overgrown. The siding, windows, and doors are all original and faded. Potentially crooked. There are rusted out cars in the driveway that haven't moved since "Nam". And the children ride their bikes without shoes on. Not that there's anything wrong with that, unless said child is sporting a rat-tail hair style and a pair of jean cut-offs. You know its just the icing on the cake.

Lastly, I feel these companies are sending me mixed messages. I am a paranoid person. I'm not going to invite ANY door to door person into my home just so they can peek around and see what treasures I hold. I don't want my carpets cleaned by your hocus pocus. Clorox Magic does wonders for me. Also, I don't want to buy your magazines. I take the ones I like from doctors offices. No need to subscribe!

And the final thought I will leave you with: I feel these companies are sending the complete opposite message. Help us protect your home, but first open your door to this complete stranger!

It makes nonsense. I prefer my home does not get burglarized, it would actually be a huge inconvenience. But really, I have neighbors that have way better stuff than me that should be more worried. As long as I have my baby and my husband, I'll be alright.

Stranger things have happened

My paternal Grandfather died September 26, 2010.  During his time on earth, he had a pure hatred for red lights and stupid traffic that went deep down into the pit of his soul.

I share this hatred.  I think it's genetic.

Fore warning: This blog may show you exactly how strange I may be.  But I don't care.  Its just my take on life.

Since my Grandpa O's death, I have noticed many things during my drive times.  I hit red lights like it's my job.  I constantly get stuck by a line of cars while trying to cross a highway.  And people pull out in front of me like I am invisible.

While I haven't figured out  a way to fix the third problem aside from t-boning the other car (That'll teach em.) I have in a strange way figured out a way to solve the other problems.  Here comes the paranormal part.  I find myself talking to my Grandpa like he actually has influence on traffic patterns and stop lights.  And you know what.  It works.   Maybe it's luck, maybe it is timing, but I think it isn't.  I think my Grandpa is my own little patron Saint of Traffic.

Not saying that my Grandpa watches out for me so that I don't hit any red lights, but if in cases where I am running late, a quick "Grandpa, please?!" usually does the trick for me.  Same for when there is a line of cars.

I'm not crazy.  I just have faith that my Grandpa is watching me from heaven, making sure that I don't go road rage postal on someone that doesn't deserve it.

Helpless situations

I am always irritated.  But sometimes my funniest lines happen when I am annoyed.  Living in the West End of Davenport, you encounter a lot of interesting people.  I have decided to list the interesting people that piss me off.

1- People that smoke at entrances to restaurants, grocery stores, or any other public building.  Step outside the fact that it is illegal, is your shopping experience so intense that it qualifies for a smoke break?  Or do you just get off on great deals and have to pause for 5 minutes then get back into it?  I don't care that you smoke.  I care when it affects me.  Such as at the Rockingham Hy-Vee when I am trying to get a Redbox.  Don't talk to me, don't touch my baby, put out your cancer stick and get back in the building to oogle the cheap prices of the Keystones and slim jims.

2- People that park in the fire lane.  You know, the fat asses that really need to park on the opposite side of the lot to get that exercise?  Or the people that need the quick get away from the dollar tree.  Seriously, I've been to Walmart enough times where an ambulance was needed and the fire truck parking lot was full of people waiting for their wives or children to get their Valutime Cheese Puffs.  Oh and by the way 95% of them were smoking.

3- People that yell at public officials for doing their job.  This story is kind of ridiculous and isn't the only representation of my opinion, but here goes.  I was at the Humane Society getting a rabies shot for my dog and some young female patron behind me was noticing an Animal Control Truck coming in.  The officer got out of the truck and pulled out a 6 month old Golden Retriever and was carrying it inside to which the young idiot blurted out "You just stole someone's dog!  Just wanted to let you know that!"  First off, no shit.  Thank you captain obvious.  But lets use our thinking brain here.  How do we know that dog wasn't running the streets terrorizing innocent citizens or the owner was beating it?  I looked at her, as did everyone else, with an incredulous look.  And then she did it.  The Maury Povich, hand on the hip, wiggling her head back and forth, whipped her hair around then looked away like we are the ones with the problem.   Some people are so dumb, it oozes out and makes the rest of us dumb too, because not one single person could find words to say to her.  I did ask the vet to do a service to the quad cities and spay her while she was there, but he said he couldn't legally do it, though he would like to.

4- Tastee Freez employees.  Do they realize that its 89 degrees out and there are 76 people in line?  The picnic tables are sticky and children are walking on them barefoot.  Some douche bag is revving his motorcycle engine for no apparent reason while his "hot mama" gets him a banana split with extra strawberries.  A pregnant teenager just went into labor and all I want is a freakin vanilla cone with some damned sprinkles on it.  Quit rubbing the zits on your forehead, wash your hands, and pull the lever on the machine with gusto and I'll give you $2.  You don't need to pick up that sharpie and write down the order.   I can walk you through this step by step.  Do any adults work there?

5- Ice Cream Truck Drivers.  My nephew is 3.  If you see him running out towards the street by himself, don't stop and throw it into reverse.  A) your dumbass is liable to hit him.  B) He's 3!  He doesn't carry cash.  Give him time to get on Etrade and sell some stock, then his parents can take him to the bank to do a withdrawl from his college savings.  Better yet, do you take money orders?  He's a big fan of Western Union.

***Note- My nephew did not run into the street, but he was on his way to it as my Brother saw it all and chased after him and caught him before something tragic happened. No foul parenting was involved.***

And there we have it.  Pet Peeves of West Ending it.  I can put up with beer cans scattered in peoples yards, dirty kids of all genders running around without clothes after the street lights come on, I even grit my teeth when a parent is yelling at their kids at 10:30 pm in Hy-Vee because they are tired and crying.  But the above types of people are the ones that I wish would move to Rock Island.  It's just a hop, skip, and a jump over the Centennial Bridge.  And who knows, maybe they'll fall off on the way.