Tag Archives: stabby

Civil Obediency

I don’t have much of a life, but the one I do have is pretty consistent. Same routine in the mornings, same routine in the evenings. If I feel like doing something exciting, I get Dulce de Leche ice cream, ok? So imagine my surprise to find a jury summons in my mailbox the day after coming back from Spring Break.

After the “How the hell did they get my name??” panic, I thought, how bad can it be? I mean, I won’t be the only one there waiting. Unless it’s a sting operation for deadbeat tax dodgers and they confused me with the previous owner of my home phone number, who keeps getting calls here for debt consolidation. Hey, my life may be boring, but my imagination isn’t. Anyway, I filled out the card, placed it in my purse, looked up directions to the courthouse, picked out my outfit (couldn’t go in sweats), and went to bed.

Morning comes, and I AM READY!!! I get on the road forty-five minutes before I’m due at the courthouse. No problem, since it’s a straight shot from the highway. I exit, and read the map directions provided so helpfully by Mapquest™.

And by “helpfully”, I mean they LIED!!

I turn left, going under the overpass, and continue down the directed road, seeing pasture after pasture, until I come into a little hamlet with five antique stores and a gas station. I pull over, and call the courthouse, giving the receptionist in the District Office my precise location. So precise, that search-engine-with-a-numerical-name-and-that-shall-never-be-used could find me by satellite in nanoseconds. The young woman then tells me to continue heading north past that hamlet, and I should be near town. Fine…. I get back on the road, and see nothing but fields, and cement trucks, and a road sign directing me to a centrally located college waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay on the other side of the county.

At this point I am in a full blown panic and think the entire sheriff’s department is after me.

Logic gives panic a throat punch and I turn around, going back the way I came. By this time I am ten minutes late, with nary a hope of getting there in the next half hour. But since there are no lights in my rear view mirror, I just resign myself to being late, my goal being to get there in one piece. About 20 minutes past nine, I find the courthouse, which has no parking. Five minutes later, I find the parking garage, park the car, and race towards the first door I see at the courthouse.

Which is no longer an ingress. Neither are the FRONT DOORS of the courthouse. The only ingress I find is the side door. I scurry in, get my bag searched, set off the metal detector THREE TIMES (stupid underwire), and then manage to go upstairs to find about 200 people outside. EUREKA!! I HAVE FOUND….someplace. But according to my card this is where I’m supposed to be. A nice lady informs me they are in recess and are waiting to file back in, and points out the young woman to whom I am to give my card. Finally the jurors are called back in, and I give my card to the sheriff’s deputy, in lieu of the young woman, who left probably to find something more exciting to do. He then took the card to another young woman, who explained that I would be rescheduled, since everyone had already been sworn in.

Great….just great. All that angst, all that panic, all the tears of frustration, all the cussing at the traffic, for nothing.

Well, I thanked her and told her I looked forward to the next summons, and left, calling Hubby to let him know what had happened. He told me to come home, since they hadn’t gone out yet. But then sends a text that they are at the grocery store. So I call him to pick up shoulder roast, and he tells me he doesn’t see it, so I end up meeting him at the grocery store to show him the various cuts of beef available.

Which is fine, because it’s beer braised beef tonight. And yes, I have a big pot for that 😀

Because I’m a Rebel

I was not in the best mood this morning. Not even looking at my felt made me happy. Not drinking my coffee, not my dogs, not even cuddling in my fleecy soft blanket. But the reality is, I can’t afford to be in a sour mood. Aside the lousy disposition, I certainly do NOT want to encourage more frown lines.

There is only so much Oil of Olay™ can do, you know.

So, every time I feel like taking a whack at someone’s eye and spitting on it a cranky old lady, I try to cheer myself up. Normally this would be achieved by ingesting copious amounts of chocolate and junk food. Unfortunately, it’s still Lent, and I can’t indulge myself in such a manner. I had to think outside the box, people.


That’s right: I went ahead and cut the tags off the mattress, the pillows, and the comforter.


And after that, I ran with the scissors around the living room. I can neither confirm nor deny that I was doing the Tarzan Yell at the time. Some people may say that whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. I say whatever keeps me from killing, saves me from prison.

But I’m feeling much better now 😉

Things I Hate, Vol. 25


I hate laundry. I have no problem washing and drying, or even ironing.

I just hate folding all that crap.

clothes basket

I have no problems with cleaning bathrooms, or washing cars, or cleaning ovens, or even disposing of intelligent life found in my refrigerator.

But I absolutely loathe folding clothes.

Am I the only one?? 😉

Feeling Stabby

I am not a happy camper today. Aside the fact that Eldest is STILL not finished reorganizing her room, I now have been dealing with a rather ornery thorn in my side: my phone bill. It’s not what I pay. It’s the fact that I’m not getting paper billing when I have requested it five times already.

I understand that I may get someone in a foreign country to help me. I have no problems with foreign accents. But I do have a problem when I keep requesting paper billing, and I don’t get it. It is still an option with my carrier, after all. And the worst part? I can’t see my bill online, because apparently the sign-up feature doesn’t recognize me as being a customer!!!

But hey, let me skip one payment and they sure as heck find my address to send me my overdue bill.

So, if they can send me an overdue notice, why can’t they send me the freakin’ bill in the first place???

Yes, they are now on my Voodoo List™. Here’s hoping that after a stabby session with their representative doll, they get their act together. If next month comes around and there’s no bill, I will make origami machetes out of $1 bills and deliver them personally 😉

Possible Death of a Salesman

I am NOT a happy camper right now.

About a year ago, one of those college/ vocational/ tech institute students came by selling magazines. My heartstrings are always plucked like chicken feathers. Anyway, he was just a few “points” from getting the level and so I decided to choose a couple of harmless magazines. That usually means family or cooking oriented. Well, they had Family Fun, which I like because it has a lot of ideas for young kids, which can also be adapted for older ones. And since he begged so nicely, I decided to order Rachael Ray’s magazine.

No, I don’t like Rachael Ray. Her perkiness drives me nuts, and feels like a cheese grater on my nerves. But it was the only cooking magazine that wasn’t labelled as “light” or “healthy”. And no, before you freak out I am NOT against eating light or healthy. I just like to do the healthy substitutions or tweaking on a regular recipe if I wish to do so. It’s easier to trim down a regular fat recipe than fatten up a thinned out one. I think I’m rambling and y’all don’t understand, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I ordered her magazine with the full intent to be more creative in my cooking, and instead, I got Newsweek.

I have nothing against Newsweek. Obviously, I don’t care for its political slant, but they have the freedom to do that. No, what bothers me is that I ordered a cooking magazine, and GOT A NEWS MAGAZINE INSTEAD!!!

And on what world does the spelling of Every Day with Rachael Ray look like Newsweek?? He wrote the title, and the numbers that corresponded were not even close to each other. I swear I’m being tested.

And if another salesdude or chick comes by selling magazines, I will greet them with machete in hand. 😉

Snap Like a Twig

There are days that I feel it coming on. The need to just… SNAP!! Of course, when I do feel the need to do so, my only targets are the dogs, and all they get to hear is “Blah, blah, blah!! Blah, Lenny, blah!!” Seriously, they just end up looking at me like I’m in need of Xanax™ or a swig of Moscato. They are very judgmental. Lucky for the family, the need goes away in the afternoon, so they don’t have to deal with it. Much.

And with the cacophony this morning, I may have need of my BRAND NEW SWITCHBLADE!!!

What can I say? Hubby knows me well 😉

Dance the Night Away, Until 9 PM

This morning I woke up from a nice dream involving hippos and ice cream and a loud cotton candy machine. I had a slice of angel food cake before I went to bed, so that would account for all the sweets featured. The hippos remain a mystery. But the song that played in the background is now an earworm. Normally I hate that. I don’t want the same song playing in my head all day. Most of the time it’s very distracting. Who wants to keep hearing Call Me Maybe while trying to fold laundry? I certainly don’t. I would be too tempted to pierce my eardrums with the ice pick. But today’s offering is waaaaaaaaaay better!

I ♥ this song. I can do the dusting, the cleaning, the laundry, the vacuuming and it just fits!! Of course, there was a time in the distant past that I could stay up and dance the night away. Nowadays, I’m more apt to snore it. Age does that to one. But if the night started at 6 PM, after the Early Bird Specials, I would be very tempted. Of course, I would probably need a few painkillers afterwards, but it would be worth it 😉

I Feel Like Chekov in the “Wrath of Khan”, Only the Earworm Won’t Die

Oh, someone please take pity on my, and drive an icepick through my ear.

Kids and Hubby are upstairs playing Minecraft™ (what else, right??) and that stupid, insipid lullaby keeps playing and makes me want to stab innocent bystanders, as well as the pigeons. Only I wouldn’t mind stabbing the pigeons. They are good in a stew. But this song has to stop before I take it out on the furniture, or the roast I’m making for tonight.

Oh, and look what I found for a Sithy.

Minecraft Vader!!! I want to kill the internet.

Hope y’all enjoy your Sunday!