Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Melissa's life theories...

Okay.. throughout my life I've always had my own personal theory about certain situations.. some of them are actually pretty snappy if I do say so myself. Other people who have heard them have actually clapped and said I should run for president at some of my hair brained ideas... other they give me the weirdest smirk I've ever seen.. sorta of like Mario Lopez trying NOT to laugh at Miss South Carolina and her dumbass answer at the Miss Teen USA pageant.

but really.. here are a few of mine.. some I've just figured out, others have years of thought behind them.

#1. Murderers should all be taken out of prison, given some sort of assult rifle, some ammo, a few water bottles/rations and dumped in the middle of Iraq. They will also be told if they hunt down and kill the right people they will given a "free pass" to come back to the US and not have to go back to jail. The whole time we know we aren't going back for them.. they can live or die over in Iraq. The bad part of this idea is that they would go around probably killing innocent bystanders, raping women/kids, and probably make the entire situation.. however, we could do the same with illegal aliens. Send them over to Iraq and tell them when they fight for their freedom that our forefathers have done then they can be citizins. No payment, no tests, just the fact that they fought for freedom.

#2 People who commit crimes should not be allowed to live "life in prison" why should I pay for their education, their food, their clothing etc. They did what they did for whatever reason.. if you get life in prison, you should be shot. end of story. For those people who don't get life, they should be put on house arrest and their family has to pay for them to live.

#3 It has been said (by much smarter people than I) that the american car companies have lost an entire generation of buyers and will take another generation to get back. Well.. case in point. My father is a die hard buy American kind of guy.. If I dare even look at a Scion I'll be taken out of the Will... he's a force to be reckoned with on some issues. So a few friends of mine have recently bought foreign cars and listening to how great they are treated at their dealerships, anyone would want a foreign car. They have garage hours from 5am -1 pm daily, meaning you can go anytime for an oil change or any work you need done on your car. They provide all sorts of freebies while waiting including coffee, snacks, etc. They treat everyone very nice whenever you are there wheather buying a car, getting an oil change, having warranty work done. So here my mom is looking for a new car. They went to a Dodge dealer and a Ford Dealer and my mom wound up pretty set on a Jeep (I think Patriot) so they went into the office to do some wheeling and dealing. Of course my dad blows his lid over a fee that everyone pays somehow for every car they buy, but he didn't want it on the invoice.. okay whatever. So my mom gets up and leaves and calls the salesman back a few hours later to tell him she left simply becasue my dad was acting like a tard and it wasn't him.. but in the meantime she decided to tell him how uncomfortable she felt there considering his manager was yelling at people out on the sales floor while there were customers standing around watching.. pretty unprofessional. While they were at the Ford dealer, they had a sales manager walk up to them and tell them they were SOOOO busy they didn't even know if they could find someone to help them.. but as soon as they cross the threashold into the showroom they could see the guy was full of shit. Salesmen sat around at their desks barely looking up, playing on line, picking their noses.. whatever. Then when they asked about a 2007 Escape they were told "I doubt we have any, those are too hard to even keep on the lot" UMM YEAH OKAY.. THE AMERICAN CAR COMPANIES ARE REALLY HURTING HUH? HOW ABOUT WORKING ON SOME CUSTOMER SERVICE!!! fuckers. Which is why I take such glee when I actually get a good deal on a car. Forget the fact that regardless, they are still making $ off of me, but I have not fully perfected my talent in this area.. as next time Tim will not be coming with me to pick out a car or he will not be allowed in the office during negiations. He always falls into the cardinal rule holes they set out for him.

Okay.. I have plenty of more theories, however I must share them with you another time.. those are just the 3 I've been thinking about recently.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Kevin, you have me in AWE!

OKAY.. let me start at the beginning by saying I know NOTHING about Kevin.. absofuckinglutely nothing about this guy.. he went to college with my neighbor Quint, grew up in the Waukegan area, his father is a fire man, he's 6'3" and an engineer... beyond that I know not what type of car he drives, if he's married, has a girlfriend, is a swinger, is gay.. seriously.. I know nothing.. but in the time that I met/spoke with him (maybe 15 minutes) he completely had me in total A W E.. and if you know me, you know not many people can put any type of shock into me. But Kevin is where the buck stops... seriously.. ME UDDERLY SPEACHLESS? Here it is.. he begun a weight loss journey the day after superbowl.. so February 5th (2007) to last Saturday August 18th (2007) he has lost 100lbs! Just decided one day I'm done being 325lbs.. I'm gonna do this. When he told me he hit the 100lb mark just 7 days prior to me meeting him my only question was "did you cry"?? somehow a full busy noisey party got really quiet and waited for his reply and he said "no, it was just something I knew I would do, like graduating college, I was just doing it" WOW WOW WOW. I guess it just goes to show you that the old "attitude" really is mind over matter in cases like this. He went from 325 to 250 and was still losing easily so he just kept at it... when you calculate it out, it's 3-4lbs per week, which really on a 325lb guy isn't really an insane amount of weight.. it's just to do it in 6 months?? Amazing.. just totally amazing.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

The BEST ebay auction ever.. other than that wedding dress some guy sold after his wife cheated on him and left...

I'm selling a bunch of Pokemon cards. Why? Because my kids sneaked them into my shopping cart while at the grocery store and I ended up buying them because I didn't notice they were there until we got home. How could I have possibly not noticed they were in my cart, you ask? Let me explain.

You haven’t lived until you’ve gone grocery shopping with six kids in tow. I would rather swim, covered in bait, through the English Channel, be a contestant on Fear Factor when they’re having pig brains for lunch, or do fourth grade math than to take my six kids to the grocery store. Because I absolutely detest grocery shopping, I tend to put it off as long as possible. There comes a time, however, when you’re peering into your fridge and thinking, ‘Hmmm, what can I make with ketchup, Italian dressing, and half an onion,’ that you decide you cannot avoid going to the grocery store any longer. Before beginning this most treacherous mission, I gather all the kids together and give them “The Lecture“.

“The Lecture“ goes like this…

MOM: “We have to go to the grocery store.”

KIDS: “Whine whine whine whine whine.“

MOM: “Hey, I don’t want to go either, but it’s either that or we’re eating cream of onion-ketchup soup and drinking Italian dressing for dinner tonight.”

KIDS: “Whine whine whine whine whine.“

MOM: “Now here are the rules: do not ask me for anything, do not poke the packages of meat in the butcher section, do not test the laws of physics and try to take out the bottom can in the pyramid shaped display, do not play baseball with oranges in the produce section, and most importantly, do not try to leave your brother at the store. Again.”

OK, the kids have been briefed. Time to go.

Once at the store, we grab not one, but two shopping carts. I wear the baby in a sling and the two little children sit in the carts while I push one cart and my oldest son pushes the other one. My oldest daughter is not allowed to push a cart. Ever. Why? Because the last time I let her push the cart, she smashed into my ankles so many times, my feet had to be amputated by the end of our shopping trip. This is not a good thing. You try running after a toddler with no feet sometime.

At this point, a woman looks at our two carts and asks me, “Are they all yours?” I answer good naturedly, “Yep!

“Oh my, you have your hands full.”

“Yes, I do, but it‘s fun!” I say smiling. I’ve heard all this before. In fact, I hear it every time I go anywhere with my brood.

We begin in the produce section where all these wonderfully, artistically arranged pyramids of fruit stand. There is something so irresistibly appealing about the apple on the bottom of the pile, that a child cannot help but try to touch it. Much like a bug to a zapper, the child is drawn to this piece of fruit. I turn around to the sounds of apples cascading down the display and onto the floor. Like Indiana Jones, there stands my son holding the all-consuming treasure that he just HAD to get and gazing at me with this dumbfounded look as if to say, “Did you see that??? Wow! I never thought that would happen!”

I give the offending child an exasperated sigh and say, “Didn’t I tell you, before we left, that I didn’t want you taking stuff from the bottom of the pile???”

“No. You said that you didn’t want us to take a can from the bottom of the pile. You didn’t say anything about apples.”

With superhuman effort, I resist the urge to send my child to the moon and instead focus on the positive - my child actually listened to me and remembered what I said!!! I make a mental note to be a little more specific the next time I give the kids The Grocery Store Lecture.

A little old man looks at all of us and says, “Are all of those your kids?”

Thinking about the apple incident, I reply, “Nope. They just started following me. I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

OK, now onto the bakery section where everything smells so good, I’m tempted to fill my cart with cookies and call it a day. Being on a perpetual diet, I try to hurry past the assortment of pies, cakes, breads, and pastries that have my children drooling. At this point the chorus of “Can we gets” begins.

“Can we get donuts?”


“Can we get cupcakes?”


“Can we get muffins?”


“Can we get pie?”


You’d think they’d catch on by this point, but no, they’re just getting started.

In the bakery, they’re giving away free samples of coffee cake and of course, my kids all take one. The toddler decides he doesn’t like it and proceeds to spit it out in my hand. (That’s what moms do. We put our hands in front of our children’s mouths so they can spit stuff into them. We’d rather carry around a handful of chewed up coffee cake, than to have the child spit it out onto the floor. I’m not sure why this is, but ask any mom and she’ll tell you the same.) Of course, there’s no garbage can around, so I continue shopping one-handed while searching for someplace to dispose of the regurgitated mess in my hand.

In the meat department, a mother with one small baby asks me, “Wow! Are all six yours?”

I answer her, “Yes, but I’m thinking of selling a couple of them.”

(Still searching for a garbage can at this point.)

Ok, after the meat department, my kids’ attention spans are spent. They’re done shopping at this point, but we aren’t even halfway through the store. This is about the time they like to start having shopping cart races. And who may I thank for teaching them this fun pastime? My seventh “child”, also known as my husband. While I’m picking out loaves of bread, the kids are running down the aisle behind the carts in an effort to get us kicked out of the store. I put to stop to that just as my son is about to crash head on into a giant cardboard cut-out of a Keebler elf stacked with packages of cookies.

Ah! Yes! I find a small trash can by the coffee machine in the cereal aisle and finally dump out the squishy contents of my hand. After standing in the cereal aisle for an hour and a half while the kids perused the various cereals, comparing the marshmallow and cheap, plastic toy content of each box, I broke down and let them each pick out a box. At any given time, we have twenty open boxes of cereal in my house.

As this is going on, my toddler is playing Houdini and maneuvering his little body out of the seat belt in an attempt to stand up in the cart. I’m amazed the kid made it to his second birthday without suffering a brain damaging head injury. In between trying to flip himself out of the cart, he sucks on the metal bars of the shopping cart. Mmmm, can you say “influenza”?

The shopping trip continues much like this. I break up fights between the kids now and then and stoop down to pick up items that the toddler has flung out of the cart. I desperately try to get everything on my list without adding too many other goodies to the carts.

Somehow I manage to complete my shopping in under four hours and head for the check-outs where my kids start in on a chorus of, “Can we have candy?” What evil minded person decided it would be a good idea to put a display of candy in the check-out lanes, right at a child’s eye level? Obviously someone who has never been shopping with children.

As I unload the carts, I notice many extra items that my kids have sneaked in the carts unbeknownst to me. I remove a box of Twinkies, a package of cupcakes, a bag of candy, and a can of cat food (we don’t even have a cat!). I somehow missed the box of Pokemon cards however and ended up purchasing them unbeknownst to me. As I pay for my purchases, the clerk looks at me, indicates my kids, and asks, “Are they all yours?”

Frustrated, exhausted from my trip, sick to my stomach from writing out a check for $289.53, dreading unloading all the groceries and putting them away and tired of hearing that question, I look at the clerk and answer her in my most sarcastic voice, “No. They’re not mine. I just go around the neighborhood gathering up kids to take to the grocery store because it’s so much more fun that way.”

So, up for auction is an opened (they ripped open the box on the way home from the store) package of Pokemon cards. There are 44 cards total. They're in perfect condition, as I took them away from the kiddos as soon as we got home from the store. Many of them say "Energy". I tried carrying them around with me, but they didn't work. I definitely didn't have any more energy than usual. One of them is shiny. There are a few creature-like things on many of them. One is called Pupitar. Hee hee hee Pupitar! (Oh no! My kids' sense of humor is rubbing off on me!) Anyway, I don't there's anything special about any of these cards, but I'm very much not an authority on Pokemon cards. I just know that I'm not letting my kids keep these as a reward for their sneakiness.

Shipping is FREE on this item. Insurance is optional, but once I drop the package at the post office, it is no longer my responsibility. For example, if my son decides to pour a bottle of glue into the envelope, or my daughter spills a glass of juice on the package, that’s my responsibility and I will fully refund your money. If, however, I take the envelope to the post office and a disgruntled mail carrier sets fire to it, a pack of wild dogs rip into it, or a mail sorting machine shreds it, it’s out of my hands, so you may want to add insurance. I will leave feedback for you as soon as I’ve received your payment. I will be happy to combine shipping on multiple items won within three days. This comes from a smoke-free, pet-free, child-filled home. Please ask me any questions before placing your bid. Happy bidding! :)

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Day 24

Well it seems that I have not had anything major happen in my life recently to blog about.. so I'll just tell ya what I've been up to. I'm finally back on Weight Watchers full fledged! 24 days and counting.. I'm down 9.4lbs. I started at 161.4 and today I'm at 152 even. We're having dinner at Maggiano's on Thursday for my sisters birthday and I managed to save every flex point from last week for dinner that night! Tim left over the weekend for his brothers bachelor party, sounds like he had a blast. Instead of doing my normal cleaning when he's gone, I said fuck that and decided to just let the days take me... which turned out good and actually busy enough to keep me occupied during my time alone. I don't do well on my own.. definately not. I like to have someone else with me, especially Tim. Instead I wound up spending Friday night with my mom who was also a bachelorette for the weekend. We had a great dinner on the Woodstock square and hung out at her house laughing and talking for an hour or so after that. It was a great night out just the two of us for a change. Thursday night I dropped Tim off then went over to my parents house and spend some time with my dad. I had asked him to help me work on my car so we did that until my mom got home from work.. so I had some time alone with him on Thursday as well doing something my dad loves to do! So that was cool. Saturday.. wow.. where do I start.. this is where time sped up and slowed down depending on the time of day and what I was doing. Saturday morning I woke up and wanted to get out of the house to work out, so I took my bike and rode out to Crystal Lake and back.. around 18 miles total.. then I ate breakfast, played on line.. checked flight tracker to see when my MIL flight was to land (I was picking her up for her stay here for the bridal shower on Sunday) so it was 10:50 she was due to land right at noon and the flight tracker said she was landing at 11:30!! What EARLY?? THAT NEVER HAPPENS.. so I quick jumped in the shower, got out, got dressed, started making a sandwich for lunch and she called! I jumped in the car and was worried about getting to O'hare because there was a Cubs game and the Air/Water show in Chicago that day.. I figured I'd get stuck in traffic.. but once I got on the express way it only took me 20 minutes to get to the airport, pick her up, and get back on the express way. We decided to hit Bed Bath and Beyond on the way back home so we could both get our gifts. They did gift wrapping there, so we didn't even have to wrap the gifts! awesome! :) I dropped her off at Jeff's (she was staying there while he was gone and using his car) and she jetted off to see her parents. Anyway.. I went home hung out the rest of the night watching movies, playing on line, walking my dog, talked on the phone to a few friends, etc.. it was great to just HANG for awhile. Sunday I woke up and got to the gym early.. it was pouring down rain, no bike ride was possible... ran, burned 300 calories and called it quits.. it amazes me whenever there is a man next to me at how many more calories they burn in a little amount of time! The guy next to me was elderly had only been on 25 minutes, was walking under 4mph and had burned over 500 calories! I was so ticked.. whatever.. it is what it is.. it takes me at the least 26 minutes (that's 1/4 mile walking 4mph followed by continuous running) to burn my 300 calories! Insane.. so then I ran home, tried to get Blue to go potty outside.. no go.. took my shower, got ready.. again tried to take Blue out.. it was still raining enough that he wanted nothing to do with being outside. Left picked up Tim's mom and Tim's cousin, drove to the shower, hung out until after 5pm drove back to Jeff's house, unloaded all the gifts, then drove home and then walked the dog! Again another night of playing on line, watching tv, went to bed around 11 until Tim walked in.. talking about his trip, his sunburn, it was itchy.. go get the solarcain, etc.. now it burns.. he jumped in the shower, I told him to take benadryl.. he was up until past 3am itching and definately NOT SLEEPING and keeping me up.. so today Wednesday I'm finally feeling rested again! Insane how one night of staying up throws off a majority of your week! lol!

Friday, August 03, 2007

how to annoy your potty neighbor

1. Stick your open palm under the stall wall and ask your neighbor, "May I borrow a highlighter?"
2. Say, "Uh oh, I knew I shouldn't have put my lips on that."

3. Cheer and clap loudly every time somebody breaks the silence with a bodily function noise.

4. Say, "Damn, this water's cold."

5. Drop a marble and say, "Oh no! My glass eye!"

6. Say, "Hmmm, I've never seen that color before."

7. Grunt and strain real loud for 30 seconds and then drop a cantelope into the toilet bowl from a height of 6 feet. Sigh relaxingly.

8. Say, "Now how did that get there?"

9. Say, "Humus. Reminds me of humus."

10. Fill up a large flask with Mountain Dew. Squirt it erratically under the stall walls of your neighbors while yelling, "Whoa! Easy boy!"

11. Say, "Interesting... more floaters than sinkers."

12. Using a small squeeze tube, spread peanut butter on a wad of toilet paper and drop the wad under the stall wall of your neighbor. Then say, "Whoops, could you kick that back over here please?"

13. Say, "C'mon Mr. Happy! Don't fall asleep on me."

14. Fill a balloon with creamed corn. Rush into the stall with your hand over your mouth and let out a lengthy vomit impression while you squeeze the balloon and splatter cream corn all about. Apologize profusely and blame it on the fettucine alfredo you had for breakfast.

15. Say, "Boy, that sure looks like a maggot."

16. Say, "Dang, I knew that drain hole was a little too small. Now what am I gonna do?"

17. Play a well known drum cadence over and over again on your butt cheeks.

18. Before you unroll toilet paper, conspicuously lay down your "Cross-Dressers Anonymous" newsletter on the floor visible to the adjacent stall.

19. Lower a small mirror underneath the stall wall, adjust it so you can see your neighbor and say, "Peek-a-boo!"

20. Drop a D-cup bra on the floor under the stall wall and sing "Born Free".


Ghost Poopie
The kind where you feel the Poopie come out, but there's no poopie in the toilet.

Clean Poopie
The kind where you poopie it out, see it in the toilet, but there is nothing on the toilet paper.

Wet Poopie
The kind where you wipe your butt fifty times and it still feels unwiped, so you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear so you don't runie them with a stain.

Second Wave Poopie
The kind that happens when you're done poopie-ing and you've pulled your pants up to your knees, and you realize you have to poopie some more.

Turtle Poopie
The kind of poopie that pops out a little and goes back in a few times before it finally comes out

The kind where you strain so much to get it out, you practically have a stroke.

Lincoln Log Poopie
The kind of Poopie that is so huge you're afraid to flush without first breaking it into little pieces with the plunger.

Gas-sy Poopie
The kind where it's so noisy, everyone within earshot is giggling!

Drinker Poopie
The kind of Poopie you have the morning after a long night of drinking. It's most noticeable trait is the skid marks on the bottom of the toilet.

Corn Poopie
(Self explanatory)

Gee-I-Wish-I-Could-Poop Poopie
The kind where you want to Poopie, but all you do is it on the toilet and fart a few times.

Spinal Tap Poopie
That's the kind when it hurts so badly coming out, you swear it was leaving you sideways.

Wet Cheeks Poopie (The Power Dump)
The kind that comes out of your butt so fast, your butt cheeks get spashed with water.

Liquid Poopie
The kind where yellowish-brown liquid shoots you of your butt and spashes all over the toilet bowl.

Mexican Poopie
The kind that smells so bad your nose burns.

Upper Class Poopie
The kind of Poopie that doesn't smell.

The Suprise Poopie
You are not even at the toilet, because you are sure you are about to fart, but, OOPS---a Poopie!

The Dangling Poopie
This Poopie refuses to drop into the toilet even though you know you are done poopie-ing. You just pray that a shake or two will cut it loose.

another bathroom blog!

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.

Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, however, because the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!

The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.

You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly, drape it around your neck because Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!

Finally, you yank down your pan ts, and as sume " The Stance." In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.

You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than the palm of your hand.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around yo ur neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor. Now you lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.

It is wet, of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew. You're certain that her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, Frankly, dear, you just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl. Of course, that sprays a fine mist of water on your butt, which then runs down your legs and into your shoes.

The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in, too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.

You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you find in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?? ) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs.

It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!