The Snob in Me

My inner snob:


Will someday stand gaurd in the candy isle of the bulk wharehouse food store yelling, "If your butt is already bigger than your cart, don't go here!"

Admires the courage it takes to drive the fifteen year old rust bucket of a car she passes on the interstate and wishes she had one iota of mechanical abillty so she could drive one without knowing she would be stranded on the roadside for all eturnity.

Knows all drivers of cheap Jap bikes make the "BRROOMM-BROOMM-BLUB-BLUB-BLUB" Harley sounds on the down low. Wanna be's.

Giggles and points at people wearing knock offs. Have some integraty. Be genuine.

Pegs fellow barbique partakers from across the room with packages of dental floss when seen picking their theeth in public.

Longs to stop the jogger who's form resembles an albatross during take off to teach him a smoother, more gracefull stride. The day she can sprint farther than her mail box, she will do just that.

Automatically hears the phrase, "My daddy always says I'm the best kisser in the family", when she hears the word fish. That was the name of the kid in her class who married his own cousin. The fish that was suposed to be in her class, not his older bother, who had flunked, and was also in her class.

Will run the driver of the next automobile with faux wood panels off the road and tell them they are fooling no one. The only real woody driven was by a Flintstone.

Carries a picture of Jonny Depp in "Pirates of the Carribian" with her to show females who incurcle their eyes in heavy black eye linner. That hard look screams welfare whisky and food stamp crack.You can take the girl out of the trailer but you can't take the trailer out of the girl. That look doesn't even work for Jonny.

Whispers to herself, "No-no- what were you thinking? Blueberry is the new black", when she passes the big baby blue house on the corner.

Covers her ears while chanting, "Get in the now, get in the now", when forced to listen to the all eighties channel.

Dreams of buying the learing tool in line behind her wearing the t-shirt that says, "0-horny in 3.2 beers" three beers. Then shaving his mullet.

Despises shopping in Walmart for fear she too may one day find herself in the hair bleach section like the marority of shoppers there, thinking that giving herself her own home 'do is a good idea.

Slips fresh fruit into the shopping bag of the mom in the grocery store who is loading up on cocca pebbles, chef boy are dee and sunny delight.

Wouldn't be caught dead being seen with the likes of me.

Munkay Speak

"Have you been eating Snickers bars?'' Translation-"Come here and kiss me so I can enjoy a sugar rush second hand."'

"I wanna try ski-journeying eh?" Translated- "I am willing to be pulled behind running dogs while precariously balancing on skis for a minimal effort adrenaline rush, and I think this is a fine idea." Adding the "eh?" on the end, I am reaffirming to myself what a good revilation this is. No need for an answer, I know what I have just stated. Repeating the sentence and stressing the "eh?", in an exaggerated question form only annoys me. I am not asking a question. To me, the word "eh" is a verbal cross between an exclamation mark and a period. Proper response, "Knock your crazy assed self out. I'm bringing my camera with me when I visit you in the hospital."

"I think that two week old steak we forgot in the bottom of the fridge looks a little juicy." Translation- "That is scary nasty beyond words." Juicy is a questionable state of being or substance, indescribable. Coined when Goosemount was strapped into the toddler seat of the Jeep Wrangler and in a panic was searching for the appropriate words to exclaim while hydroplaning sideways down the muddy road. "MOM! Why did you have to pick such a JUICY road?!"

"Let me think about it." Translation- "Oh hell no, I don't want to. I just haven't thought up an excuse not to yet."

"WHERE'S MY FOOD WOMAN??" Translation- "Please excuse me, but I am extremely hungry and am on the verge of wasting away." Unless spoken in a restaurant. Then it translates to, "WHERE'S MY FOOD WOMAN!!", regardless of sex of waitperson.

"I don't think I am in the mood." Translation- "Oh heck ya, I want some, you just gotta put a little more effort into it."

"Ok" Translation to my kids-"I'm not listening to you right now." Translation to my Hubby- "What's in it for me?" Translation to all others- "I'm not sold on this yet. I was holding a conversation with my Rock in my head."

"Keydoks" Translation- "Ok", in Finnish. But must be chirped in a happy attitude.

"K" Translation- "I hear you but not only am I not going to do that, I am too lazy to even answer with a complete word. Go away now. You disgust me."

"Okaly Dokaly" Translation. - "Not only will I do that to inhibit further prompting, but I will accomplish it in a speedy and mindless manner." This term is rare, last heard, June 11th, 1993.

"No thank you, I couldn't possibly eat another bite." Translation- There is none. Those are words you will never hear coming from this girl.

"Look at all the tall buildings Punky!!!" Translation- "I am innodated and overwhelmed by all the urban culture and architecture surrounding me currently." It is to be used also as a greeting when ever you happen to meet a man who goes by the name Skeeter Minyeah, as he was the first one to utter these words right before he walked into a pole while admiring the Winnipeg skyline above. It was spoke many times as we waited for the ambulance to transport his unconscious form to the hospital. More times as Punky and I became lost trying to follow the ambulance through the unknown city. Not so often when we sobered up.

"Whats going on in here?" Translation- "I don't know why or how a wild squirrel got lose in my bathroom, but he better be gone before another little blood vessel ruptures in my brain."

"You are grizzling up nicely there Goat." Translation- "I love you dearly and can not pass up the chance to tease you about how much older your are than me. "

"Can't talk, eating." Translation- "Keep all limbs and digits near clear for your own safety. Not responsible for burns from sparks flying from my eating utensils. If I am bothering to use any"

"No breakee t' eegg." Translation- "That was a totally stupid thing to do, bone head." Derived from Eli's dad, who once accidentally cut through the gas line leading into the Asian restaurant he was working on causing the non-English speaking proprietor to come out and in a highly excited mannor, pantomime as best he could using a skillet and an egg, that he could smell sulfur in the air and an explosion was immanent. Must be said in a really bad Asian accent.

"Wanna dance?" Translation- "No Hubby, I do not expect you to dance with me and would be quite shocked if you did. But I am going to dance around you as you sit there. Please don't swat at me when I get in front of the T.V."

"Ron Burgundy" Translation- "I want to see you laugh so hard you do a spit-take when I utter this phrase in a muppet voice. "

*Rolling eyes upward and nodding head.* Translation- "No I am not experiencing a grand maul seizure. I have 10 minutes and the inclination to meet you upstairs." I know this not words but communication none the less. Fat chance you will ever see me speak this way to you. Other than you, Rock, that is.

"If there is anything I can do to help.." Translation- "I am polite and insincere."

"What can I do to help?" Translation- "Give me something here, my intentions are good."

"Shut up." Translation- "Tell me more." For example when you say, "The UPS driver delivered my order from Fredericks of Hollywood yesterday but I had to sign for it before he would take it off.", triggers me to say, "Shut up.", meaning I want further information.

"Get out eh?" Translation- "Don't you dare stop now." I am not questioning your presents. I want some background. For example. "I could tell right away just by looking at him, that it wouldn't enhance my cleavage either", is cause for me to answer, "Get out eh?"

"You gonna finish that?" Translation- "You have T minus 3 seconds before I lunge for your plate and you lose a finger."

"What do you mean by that?" Translation- "You have bored me beyond tears rehashing the same old drivel that you are patronizing me with. Stop already. I am making fun of you."

"That feels like fuck." Translation- "I do not know how I am feeling but am adamant about it none the less. Might be wonderful. Could possibly be horrible." Term jacked from Ben, a six year old first time swearer. He was trying to descibe the intense sensation achieved after biffing the fast waterslide at the local water park. To his uptight fathers extreme embarrassment, he loudly proclaimed his experience using the most powerful words he was capable of. Ben made his statement before most of his fathers company. Ben is now a Jr. project manager for same company.

"Is the pizza here?" Translation- "I am planning on grabbing you to sneak a kiss while you are momentarily silent and easy prey as you listen for the sound of the delivery boy's knock."

"I was just thinking of you." Translation- " I have hatched a ludicrous idea and you are the only one who will hear me out before calling the nut wagon and I am planning on making you my acomplise." That or "I have been drinking heavily all day."

"I love you." Translation- "I love you." It does not have hidden meaning. It does not even require a response.

The Bunny House

I am walking in my yard through the mud. Signs are spring are slowly emerging every where. It is the ugly time of the year but I love this season the most. The days are now longer, and that brings the promise of the return of warmth and summer. The fresh air is full of hope of new beginnings. It no longer hurts my lungs to breath in the cold, I can smell the earth coming back to life. I look down to the greasy clay covering my boots and I spot it half burred in the mud. My traveling bunny. Or it is one half of him. I crouch down and examine his remains before gently picking him up. Last falls landscaping must have left him here. He is bend at funny angles, that is why I did not recognize him sooner. But it is my old friend. I brush the soil covering him off with my fingertips. There is his backpack. And his walking staff. This rabbit has covered many miles in his lifetime.

Traveling Bunny was with me in my old life. Back in my pre fire candy making days. This bunny was one of hundreds that inhabited my home. I collected them from all over the world. I had waltzing bunny's from Switzerland. Gardening bunny's from Germany. Bunny family's from England. Bunny's wearing clogs from Holland. I new every antique dealer who specialized in metal chocolate molds in the States and thanks to the internet had suppliers from Europe that soon became fast friends.

Every one of the molds was a work of art. From the outside, they appeared to be just a lump of unrefined metal. But when you opened them up, to their smooth polished shiny silver interior that produced the intricatly detailed chocolate, you apeaciated their real workmanship and beauty. The nicer ones from the turn of the century would show every hair the artist had given the rabbit. Most were adopted by me from old candy making shops. Often, it was the local pharmacist that would also me the candymaker. Only the large, well to do family's would own their own mold. The idea that the same molds I used had brought joy to lucky children on Easter morning delighted me.

At Easter time, I would become the Easter bunny. I would order fifty pounds each of white, mild and dark chocolate, and every surface in my house would become covered in candy. I was a hero in my son's school. Neibhors and dentists loved me.

After the house burned, and I was walking around the large ash pit that once was my home, along with the smell of charred ash, was the sickening sweet stench of burned chocolate. That gave me optimism. "My bunny's were metal, at least they will have made it", I had hoped. Not a single one escaped perishing that night.

As I squat down on my haunches staring at all that is left of traveling bunny, Goosemount walks over and places his hand on my shoulder to have a better look at what I am holding. "Mom you can make Easter bunny's!", he excitedly exclaims. "No, honey, he is all beat up." "Yes, you can, they don't have to be perfect." "No, he is no longer safe for making candy." K2 by this time has joined us and is having difficulty seeing a rabbit in the scrape of metal I am holding. He is too young to remember the details. "Why don't we buy new ones Mom?", he asks, "And save that one for memories?" I stand up and toss traveling bunny into the trash. "No, how bout you guys help me make some chocolate eggs this year?"

With an Ass like a Rock Star....

With an ass like a rock star, I'm going to conquer the word. One small northern Midwest chunk at a time. And break quite a few hearts doing it.

I was in deperate need of new clothes. I would peek into my bare closet and stare in dismay at the worn and tired rags that shamefully hid there waiting to be bundled into a garbage bag for the "Dead Clothes Walking" trip out to the curb side garbage. Every morning I did this ritual, hoping to find a long lost designer outfit that perhalps I had over looked. More often than not, I settle for whatever I can find that is relatively clean, and a size or two away from what actually fits me. In otherwords, little boys baggy cargo jeans and a skateboard sweatshirt. I hate clothes shopping and would rather pull my own teeth than go into a mall to try on clothes. I am prone to just mail order them. So that's what I did. Except I blow my entire wardrobe budget on a single pair of jeans. Rock star jeans. Yeah, I spent more on these jeans than double my rent, in my salad days. But I don't care. With these jeans, no one can stop me. Or would want too.

With these jeans, I have already achieved great things. I have tamed wild animals. Ok, it was a squirrel. In a live trap. I have been awarded fabulous prizes. I did fill out the raffle ticket that won my son's mountain bike. I have been asulted by adoring public. Sure, it was a sale at IKEA., but the glimpse I caught of my hinney in the mirror, while I was there, was worth every penny.

If I wear these jeans, two times a week, for the next three years, as I plan, it will be worth all that interest accruing on my credit card. I did invest in a pair of to die for jeans, four years ago instead of paying my car payment, and every time one of the collection agents called, I just described the lift they gave me and they understood.

Not only do I owe these jeans to my self, but to the public at large. Set an example to all other women out there. Yup no more leaving cheek marks in the snow behind me when I walk. Make them ask themselves, "Is that her caboose or is she wearing a pack back?

I now am draggin a wagon with an ass like a porch. Got my junk in the trunk thanks to my rock star jeans. Step back J-lo.

A World Without Numbers Amen

If there were no numbers, I would be a happy person. I would never be late. Scales would not scare me. I would save countless (figuritivly) hours by not having to reset the clocks on my electronical devices. I would not have to buy box after box of candles for my birthday cake. Speeding tickets would be nonexistant. As I am not starving, I would consider myself rich. Ok that I do already. Change would not clutter my house. Tax people would be my friends. We would hang out at my house during all their free time. I'd bake them hot fresh cookies. Bake. Bake. How the heck would I bake? Damn numbers.

Nocturnal Emissions

Now don't be getting your panties all in a twist, this isn't another "adult" insight on my personal life. But man have I been busy lately at night. Dang shame I am unconscious during the fun.

A couple days ago I dreamt I was riding around on the back country roads where I grew up in a small hatch back car with Bill Murry and Chevy Chase. We are happy and having a great time until Chevy reclines the front seat he is sitting on, all the way back so he can make faces at me in the back. This irritates me so much I lose all it and yell while taking a swing at him.
I woke up sitting up in my bed swinging and yelling in the dark. Cat still won't sleep with me.

This weekend, on Saturday night while I was sitting in front of our country's founding fathers on trial, Thomas Jeffersons astrued wig caused me to laugh. I woke up in the sitting position breying and gafawing like a donkey. My Hubby who was up playing games in the computer room, heard the sound and came running into the room. "Who was that?", he asked, not reconizing that laugh ever coming out of me.

So I've taken up fighting and chortling in my slumber, I'm good with that. Long as I don't start walking around. The neihboors all know me in thses parts. My sister one summer became prone to rearranging furniture in the room we shared at night. "Heidi? What are you doing?, I asked her after being woken by the sound of a heavy object being dragged across the floor. "I can't find the light switch for the stairs", was her reply. Our bedroom was on the ground floor, no stairs anywhere near. "Let me help." Together we moved the heavy antique dresser with the mirror attached away from the wall into the center of the room. Second thought, that might be the way I get my boys to clean their rooms. Middle of the night scare tactics.

"ZZZZzzzzzz." "Mom what are you doing in here?" "ZZzzz must pick up garbage." "No Mom, I need those papers." "ZZzzz mumble.. into the trash...." " NO MOM- No- I will put it away, I will right now." "Chevy, you help too, or you are going to taste my zzzz fist".

Personal Sex Thoughts

This is a collection of actual thoughts I have had during intimate times. Not your usual, "I gotta paint the ceiling", or "This is worth changing the sheets for", musings. Up to you to decide which I meant in context at the time.

Are we in gear? Yes! No. Yes! YESSS!

She is a nurse, she hadda seen worse than this before.

I'm soo going to invent one of those beer hats that holds two beers with a little tube that runs into my mouth that works in the horizontal position.

1 centimeter closer and that skate blade will scar me for life.

Baby oil is foreplay in a bottle.

Hot idea but I bet this raises my blood sugar level to a bizillion. Mmmmm who cares.

I LOVE ICE FISHING!!

A fifty thousand dollar rug. I'm glad I have the camera.

Wake up baby.

Yeah, let Marge burst in here one more time with that flashlight of hers now looking for the men who stole her vacuum cleaner.

I better not get a splinter off this sauna bench. Dang those looms are loud.

When I said I was cold, I meant I was cold.

Rah! Rah! Raw.

RED LIGHTS SHIT! Good thing he is the sheriffs son.

Hope this doesn't tip the boat, we never unlocked the life preservers.

"...train keeps a roll'n all night long, train keeps aroll'n all night long..."

I shouldn't have bothered shaving.

Hurry up and get back on the lawn mower.

That's going to hurt when he wakes up.

Go nuts. Your gonna get paint on that!

Does he know the Rock is hosting SNL tonight?

Damn you curry. When I am done here, I'm finishing you off.

Mechanical bull, ha ha ha ha ha ha.

This is quaranting neither of us gets a deer now. I'm glad this stand has a chair.

I should drink every night.

"Bring me another shrubbery for a two level effect, knights who say nei!"

Thank you yoga instructor.

Extra sauce there delivery boy.

No Demise This Week

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"

Yes, we have all heard that old over used quote too many times. But here is the list of things that didn't kill me this week.


Sitting through an almost two hour production of a seventeenth century play, written entirely in rhyme. Only not being able to remember a single line wounded me a little. Anyone seen my memory strength anywhere? Can't remember where I left it.

Eating a delicious meal of Swedish brown beans with out soaking the beans first to "degassify" them. During the following intestional gut cramps, I would of welcomed death, but that too passed.

Getting back to my daily rigorous exercise habit. Can't be dead if you ache so much.

Being bit by the neibhors boxer dog. I did have to put my torn glove to rest tho.

The tot war of 0-Tuesday. Only my hunger for battle died.

Cleaning out the freezer for the first time. The shock of opening the door and seeing a light inside did make my K2 slam the door in shock and miss a heartbeat.

Going with out TV. Didn't even miss it. Have all the Simpsons memorized.

Reading the novel, "Life of Pi", in it's entirety in under 20 hours. One can live without eyesight.

Parent/ teacher conferences at the Jr. High school. I think it was Goosemount who longed for my non-existence then.

Meeting with a life coach. Nope, only a few small twinges there.

Yet no response from The Rock. Ok- he has to be dead not to respond to me!

Am I stronger for these things in my life? Entertained, stinky, sore, traumatized, shamed, accomplished, weaned, advised, enlightened, and dangling definitely. Can't wait for the weekend.

The Great Tot War of 0-Tuesday

"I remember it well. Like it was yesterday.", the grizzled old codger muses, rubbing the stump were once her limb had been. " The gruesome images from that battle will haunt my memory for eternity. What is that you ask? You have never heard of the Tot War?"She shakes her graying head, her rummy eyes puzzled in disbelief. "Have it in ya to pass an old veteran a Dot, will ya, and you'll hear it first hand. Not the mollycoddled version you will find in the history books". As she settles back into her computer chair more comfortably for the duration of the tale, candy buldging in her cheek, one can almost see the years slip away from her face. She, herself already lost in time, were her story started, two days before....

"There we were together in the mess hall, the entire regiment exhausted from the rigors and training of the day. Tired, muddied and wet, the weary men slumped were they could find room, vieing for a spot closest to the fire. The days drills over for the day, their uniforms drying on make shift clotheslines. The air was filled with jovial banter, bursts of laughter, and the smell of the meager sustenance the kitchen sergeant had prepared, along with the smell of the wet wool. The unmistakable aroma of tots enticing wafted through out the encampment, the anticipation of their upcoming delight helping to create a lighthearted atmosphere. Conversation was cut short once the food rations hit the table, the men's attention focused on filling their empty rumbling stomachs. What should have been the high point of their day, the time when their sole mission was satiating their belly's, suddenly and unexpectedly turned into the type of ilk nightmares are born of.

Silence invaded the camp once the fatal strategic error was noticed. The men stopped their chewing, mouths full, as the count began. One two three four five six seven eight nine ten. Ten. An even number. Ten tots left and there were an uneven number of men. Sneaky calculated sideways glances where stole as once again chewing started, faster now. No head was lifted, all concentrated on finishing their ration first, hoping to nonchalantly reach for the remaining morsels unnoticed. Impossible, that battle tactic failed..."

"You know, the red ones are my favorite?" "C'mon, pay attention now, you have no idea how much longer a coot like me might be around. Pass the red Dots over to me and I'll continue with my epic tale. mmmm"

"It was the green horn, the fodder boy of the troupe who sounded the first battle cry.. "MINE! I get four! I'm done first!" NOW-", was caption Goosemounts reply, "we each get three." All the men, suddenly spurned on by greed, grabbed their life line of three tots, leaving the last tot alone on the platter. But only for an instant, when stimutainously, all three hands quickly returned to claim the remaining prize tot.
It was Cooke, having been armed with extra long appendages that swooped up the nugget. The troupe turned on her like jackals. Tot held high above her head, she fled the mess area, the remainder of her regiment in hot perused at her heels. They attacked her all at once, lethal friendly fire if you will. Shots whizzed by her, some finding their mark. She was pummled from behind, below, and straight on as they encircled her. A hit to her ankles from Goosemount immobilized her. It was the weight of K2 climbing up her flank that took her down. Down but not out. They fought hand to hand, tot disimulating itself almost entirely in her clentched fist. Over and over they rolled as the raging combat continued through out that long night. Her breaths came in hot sharp gasps and her body began to weaken. But not her sprirt, nor her love of all things potato enhanced, as she held tight to the soggy grail. All is fair in love and war. It was K2, in a bloody fit of passion that swung the fatal blow to her most venerable spot, her unprotected raised armpit. But it was Goosemont who enjoyed the spoils, as he won by assimilation, waiting for the fallen alpha to drop the tot before throwing himself on it. It was in his mouth, where he chewed the victory tot open mouthed for the rest of us to watch his feast. We sunk to our knees as we wailed, beating our chests in defeat and despair."

"I may have an entire Sams Club size bag of tots in the basement freezer, unopened, and unknown by my men, but my hand to God, none will ever taste as sweet as that one I lost on Tuesday."

"Go now, and tell your grandchildren of the real ill sought glory of such a battle. It is now my nap time. Leave an old vet with her memories. And the box. Just leave the whole box. Don't try sneeking any off, I am well vised in the ways of food battle."

Cutting the Umbilical Cord

One very harrast mom armed with a semi-sharp kitcken utility sissors can indeed cause imense damage to not one, not two, but five TV's. (not to mention the dvd player that got in the way) I expect the additude and the grades will improve around here. I know mine has.