Shut up already! I really don't give a shit!

Have you ever met one of those people who just won't SHUT UP? Even when you're telling them to, "Shut the fuck up!I really don't CARE enough to listen to what you have to say!" They just don't get it and keep yammering on like what they're saying is really important, but it's really all just some inane, nonsensical bullshit...
A fine example: I'm at the grocery store one day and this woman was bitching about not being able to find canned asparagus. Trying to be polite, I told her to look in the "canned vegetables" aisle. She was kind enough to thank me, but then she ingratiated herself on my time and decided to go on some rant about how her gojillionaire husband needed her to slap together some dinner for the kids that evening because their nanny had taken ill. She was all blah, blah, blah the kids are such a pain in the ass, she never wanted them, that's why she hired a nanny, blah, blah, blah, she can't believe she has to do manual labor, something about a nail appointment and a spa treatment of some sort... Blah, blah, blah blah...
I was trying to walk away, but she was on me like white on rice... Rambling on about shit and I really didn't care... I even told her that I had to go because I had other things to get done. I took a call on the cell and went about my shopping while she tailed me, yammering on about the woes of being a  woman of leisure... Finally I said, "You know? I really don't give a shit! I told you where to find the whatever it was you were looking for. Go cook for your kids! Go away!"
She called me a rude bitch. Really? Wow... The moral? It doesn't always pay to "stop and smell the roses" because the ratio of cool people that you come across is minute compared to the assholes you come across in life. Doesn't mean you shouldn't try though!

Books...

I've read, re-read and re-read again all the Dresden books to date... Mitchell! WTF?! Why would you do this to me? Cliffhangers are so not my thing! Jim Butcher needs to hurry along with the next one because I need to know NOW!
And despite the fact that Harry is an incurable dork, there is just something cute and a little bit lick-able about him, isn't there? He's a bit of a pansy sometimes, but when it's time to kick ass, he doesn't just kick, he WHOOPS ASS!
Mitchie! I need to know NOW! And by the way, just where the the bloody hell is my chocolate chip cookie with the caramel ribbon?
Oh, and another thing,  why does it say "matrix" in Japanese on Harry's staff? I thought they were supposed to be some ancient runes or something that were carved into his staff... Just curious...

Movies....

Come on! The Princess Bride was one of the greatest movies ever! How can you go wrong? It's one of my all time favorites! (Along with Up, Happy Feet, Army of Darkness, Boondock Saints (both of them), and Braveheart just to name a few.)
I say Braveheart simply because it is the GREATEST love story EVER! Seriously! Boy meets girl, boy loses girl because some asshole killed her, boy kills girl's killer along with a whole buttload of other people, raised an army, and all of them went-an-ass-kickin' on all of England. That's kinda cool. Imagine saying, "If you so much as BREATH on me, my man will go all 'William Wallace' on your ass!"  If you've seen the movie, you can understand that, right? I mean that's love! Yeah. Awesome.

And Boondock Saints? Come ON! Willem Dafoe made the first one. Am I right? And Rocco's speech in the second one?
I don't get out to see movies much because I really don't feel like spending $50 just to go and see a movie. I'd just as soon wait for it to come out on DVD and watch it in the comfort of my own room, any time I want to, but there are ones that you just HAVE to see on the big screen. Especially when you have shit blowing up and gore and violence and slo-mo gun fight scenes and junk and stuff... Need to see it HUGE in order to really appreciate it, no?

A Jew, a Nip and a Guinea walk into a bar...

Sounds like the start of a bad joke, doesn't it?
On a Friday or Saturday  night some time ago, when neither Lucky or I had our kids, the three of us decided to go out... Mitchie, Lucky and I went to a little bar in Norwalk where they sell over-priced beer to twenty somethings. Basically, it was an upscale meat market.
So, here we are, the three of us thirty-some odds, watching the never been married, don't have kids, in college or just out of college kids parading around in designer clothes flirting and laughing and carrying on... The place reeked of cologne, perfume, stale beer, drunken beer breath and the sexual tensions of all those co-mingling, to find a bed mate for the night...
We wandered around long enough to find the bar to order up a few brews and find a place to be to people watch...  You can generally tell what the conversations are like just by watching the body language between the people having them, so we ran our own dialog while watching them, just to amuse ourselves for a little while.
A few sips into a very nice chocolate stout, we came to the realization that we were out of place... <Sigh!> So much for a night out. We ended up going back to my house and watching something on the food porn channel. I think it may have been "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives". I love that show!

Otis...

Otis is my geriatric wiener dog... (The one I lost was a lab mix...) When I say "geriatric", I mean it... I think Otis may have been Jesus' dog when He was a little boy...
Otis is not too bright, not very friendly, "goes" everywhere and he smells funny. He doesn't play, he doesn't do tricks, he doesn't do anything special. He snores and farts when he's sleeping, he hates other dogs and he doesn't really do much but sleep. Otis is losing his sight, has lost his hearing, is arthritic and often has "senior moments". He'll get up from a sunny spot, go trotting along like he has a purpose, pause, sit down and look around like he lost his train of thought... (His train doesn't get lost. It's more like the train derails, blows up and sits in fiery ruins...) He's cranky, he's ornery and he randomly barks at the noises in his head. His definition of "exercise" is getting up from where he was sleeping to go find a sunny spot to sleep in, but I wouldn't trade him for all the money in the world... I might think about it, but the answer would still be, "No."

Friendship...

There are friends that come and go, there are friends that stay around for a little while and disappear... Then there are those who remain significant and their colors run true regardless of time (regardless of how much or how little) or circumstances (theirs or yours).
I've met some pretty shitty people. I know. We all have... It sucks. Then there are those people I have met who despite some quirks or distance or age difference or whatever that I am proud to call friends.
A friend is someone who will hold your hair when you're sick and puking  and won't question you about whether that  was carrots or something else and comment on how gross it must have tasted coming back up. A friend is someone who will drive to your house in the middle of the night when there was an attempted home invasion, armed to the teeth with shotguns, rifles and handguns, enough ammo for the zombie apocalypse and stains their karma by running over an entire family of raccoons on the way there. A friend is someone who will encourage you, inspire you, remind you of how awesome you are and mean it, then kick you in the ass to get it in gear and not to waste your life sitting around on it. A friend is someone who helps you restore your faith in people because you forgot that "we're not all bad". A friend is someone who asks, "But how are you?" when you're trying to fix everyone else's shit. A friend is someone who can comfort you when you're at you're lowest without  a word.
I've come to realize that it's not really about quantity, but about quality, especially when it comes to friends. My circle of friends may be smaller, but it's tighter. I'd fight along side any one of mine in the zombie apocalypse any day.

Mitchie Pizza...

My Mitchie A.K.A. the "Little Rat" is a whiz in the kitchen. (And don't let the "Kosher Jew Lawyer" exterior fool you either. He will fuck your shit up... ROYAL. Go ahead... Choose your weapon... You will have chosen... Unwisely.)
He's been doing up these pizzas... Now, you have to understand that Mitchell does not believe pizza to be just a set of ingredients that you slap together and throw into the friggin' oven. No, no.Pizza is a concept.
We had one the other night that had a crust that was toasted on the tray that previously roasted the vegetables, said vegetables being red peppers and vidalia onion roasted in olive oil and a lil bit o' salt and pepper, mushrooms done up in butter, salt, pepper and a little bit of balsamic vinegar, (run-on sentence much?) two fried eggs (chicken eggs this time because he was out of duck eggs... We were slumming that night...), melted brie cheese and fake bacon. I know, I know... FAKE bacon... But it didn't matter after the first bite of this pizza... It rocked! Mouth-gasms with every bite! It almost turned into a bloody knife fight when it came down to the last piece... It made that slice taste even more super tasty for me! :)

Define what a "real cop" is for me...

So, my man's ex-wife has  been posting a bunch of not so flattering things about him on her facebook account... So has her live-in, short, fat, pussy boyfriend...
I can understand the whole, "My ex is a jerk!" thing... Believe me! I get it. A LOT! I also get that there are three sides to the story too, Hers, His and What Actually Happened. But let's be reasonable and think this through like the rational, intelligent  species we're supposed to be, shall we?
Now, rationality and this woman are not something that go hand in hand. She lives in her own world that revolves around her, is about her and fuck everyone else. A prime example...
My Lucky, a.k.a. My Sweetie, a.k.a. Sugar Lumpy Head, a.k.a. My Googlie Schmooglie... Yeah, you get the idea... Well, he pays alimony, half the mortgage, half the insurance on the house, half the taxes, pays child support... On time or early, as ordered in the separation agreement that he signed, she signed, the attorneys signed and the judge signed, all of them with the knowledge that all parties read, understood and agreed with (not saying "thought was fair". Because he pays through the nose so HIS KIDS could stay in their home, he gets to live with his parents because he can't afford to be anywhere else)what was written in said agreement.
Now, said woman, had her boyfriend move in a short time after the divorce... Stated in above mentioned "agreement" is a tidbit about "cohabitation", which was clearly happening. Why should Lucky have to pay for her love nest?  Oh, yeah. He doesn't.
She was served with papers to redo the alimony. (Not the child support, mortgage, taxes, etc.) Twenty seconds after she gets served and realized what was going on, she threw a temper tantrum and she calls MY ex-husband to give him some gory details of my relationship with Lucky, that she obtained by hacking into Lucky's email account. Mind you, my relationship with Lucky is none of her business and none of my ex's business, but of course this communication betwixt the two exes leads to a nuclear meltdown of Chernobyl proportions. Exactly what she wanted.
Why? Well, she couldn't hurt Lucky directly, so she attacked the next best thing... She doesn't know me or my children and my relationship with Lucky began long after she was fucking someone else in the marital bed and my marriage was long over. And certainly, she has not the balls to say my children had done anything to her... Really?
Innocent bystanders suffering for her selfish act of desperation (and still are) because she wasn't going to be allowed to have her cake and eat it too. Nice...
So, she likes to post things about how he was lousy in bed, he's not a good father, he's not a real cop... Well, let me address a few of these things...
Lousy in bed... Well, I'm thinking it takes "two to tango". If you're laying there like a cold dead fish, no matter how enthusiastic your male counterpart is, well... It can only be as good as both parties make it. Since I have never had problems in THAT arena with Lucky, I assure you, (Ooooh... Ahhh... yessssssssss....Mmmmmm.... What? Oh, sorry...) it kinda stands to reason that it wasn't him that made it lousy...
Not a good father... He bends over backwards to bring in the money (on a cop's salary) to make sure that the kids stay in their home. He spends as much time with them as he can. Gets them to school, especially in rotten weather. Cooks and feeds them dinner, buys them what they need, plays with them outside, plays with them inside, gets them out to do things, finds things to do with them at the house. He laughs with them, cries with them, talks to them, listens to them... These are all things that any parent should be doing, but in no way does doing these things makes him a bad father, does it?
Now, he's not a real cop... What, because he works in the tiny rich-ass neighborhood of Ridgefield? What does that make the rest of the officers there that she still calls "friends"? They fake cops too? Fine, Ridgefield is not NYC or some other hugely populated big-ass city with gangs and shootings and rapes and murders, etc.  I get that. Maybe the most excitement they see somewhat regularly is someone going 60 in a 25 praying that there might be a "roll around" after the car is pulled over...  Should something happen in this small little town and the shit really hit the fan, backup would be five minutes away, whereas in a bigger city, backup would be there within seconds. Five minutes to a "civilian" is nothing... Really. But to someone who a cop who is in need of assistance, five minutes is an eternity. It doesn't change the fact that any police officer in any town or city, big or small doesn't ever say to themselves, "Today won't be the day..." while pulling on the vest under their uniform. Cops get killed on the job no matter where they're working. It happens. We read about it in the papers almost every day, but it doesn't stop them from pulling on their vests and becoming "the job". (Have you thanked a cop lately?)
I don't even want to imagine being the one receiving the "knock at the door" with two cops standing at the door, heads down with hats in hand... And I pray I'll never have to experience it.
Lucky tells me about his shift every day. Sometimes, eh! Nothing too exciting. Sometimes, downright funny. Sometimes... Tragic. Regardless, of the kind of "day" he's had, it makes me proud to be able to say that I'm his girl, every day. The ex-wife can take her "not a real cop" and shove it right up her tailpipe- spiked, wrapped in barbed wire, sideways, dry, hard and well. Anyone who has one "on the job" ANYWHERE would agree with me there...
Her short, fat, little pussy boyfriend was quoted as having said something along the lines of needing to "get his walking shoes and move on". Well, as long as Lucky's paying for half the mortgage on the house, (making the house HALF LUCKY'S) Little Pussy needs to shut the fuck up and sit his fat ass back the fuck down on the couch, the cowardly little shit. If he wants Lucky to walk, BUY HIM OUT AND GIVE HIM HIS HALF OF THE EQUITY ON THE FUCKING HOUSE! Little Pussy should put his own name on the mortgage.Then you will see "moved on", but Little Pussy has to keep in mind that no matter what happens,  when Little Pussy is "playing house" with mommy, those are  LUCKY'S kids.

Pleasant and polite are they to my man's face, only are they willing to badmouth by blogging under cover of passwords and "club memberships", while I will always post publicly. As much as I wish for a day that the two of them would openly have it out with the two of us so that a true confrontation can be made and all things can be put out on the table, well... I know it would never happen. The cowardice there runs too deep and too far and too wide. They'll keep their little fan club entertained with half the truth... Eventually though, even if one by one, the fan club will come to know the WHOLE truth...

Still lookin' for a title for the book series...

I can't exactly have the books I wrote for the kids printed and bound for Christmas for them without a title... Poop on a stick! Crap on a cracker! SHIT!
Stupid title!
This project has been, what, ten years in the making? Years of listening to the stories the kids came up with over the years, about four years writing, editing and re-writing... Five books later, I still don't have a friggin' title...

An Ebay thing...

Mom's Maze of Terror, a.k.a. the basement, has yielded some pretty amazing finds... Otherwise I probably wouldn't be down there... Who am I kidding? Yes, I would. The expeditions down to the dungeons are perilous and I am risking my safety and well being by traversing the corridors of that dark and evil place... There are dangers and booby traps, pitfalls and evil creatures summoned from the very bowels of hell itself tromping around down there! (They don't want to be there! It's just that they can't find their way out!)
I've met some pretty amazing people through Ebay too. Kinda like mom's torture chamber for trinkets, treasures and knickknacks... Sure there are dangers and pitfalls, but you can find some real gems out there too. Alright, maybe I do obsess a little too much about Ebay, but considering what I got "awarded" for child support... Hell! If I can earn some money and still be home for the kids and be the one to raise them instead of hiring someone else to do it for me, than I consider Ebay to be a healthy obsession.
Klawed9 is an amazing woman. Who helped to restore my faith in people. Her "obi story" is one that will be told to my daughter and her daughter and her daughter's daughter for many generations down the line...
Hemi_cuda911 and Pussanova have swooped in and lent a helping hand and some sound advice about things Ebay...
Then there is Shoparoundsue56. This woman is an unbelievable example of humanity, kindness, compassion and humility. Her life had taken more than a bunch of zigs and zags, but her demeanor is still one of sincerity, calm and is truly inspirational. One of those people who you come across and feel cheated because you hadn't known them all along...
Ebay is like "Life-Lite".  With people and with the things that you purchase or sell. Skate through most of it without a fuss, nameless, faceless, whatever.  You run into some bumps, trip, fall and get all bloodied up... But you also come across things that are worthwhile... Significant and it ain't all bad if you stop a bit, take a breath and look around...

S.O.S from the Labyrinth of DOOM! a.k.a. mom's basement

So, I help mom clean out the basement because, A.) she can't lift heavy shit, B.) when she does lift heavy shit, despite the fact that people tell her not to, she complains for weeks about tired she is and how much pain she's in because she tweaked her <whatever body part. It changes every other day...>  C.) I don't want to listen to her yap about how I never help around the house (because running around after four children, keeping on top of their messes, schedules, meals and well, their everything as well as keeping on top of my own shit isn't enough), despite the fact that I have taken on the role of "house nigger". Dishes, laundry, garbage, grocery shopping, running errands, moving shit, type this, fix that, clean out here, put those there...  D.) I don't want to hear dad yelling because mom's whining about something and E.) There's a finder's keepers rule. I find it, I get to list it on Ebay as mine.

Whether it really is the lure of money or if it's because I'm a closet masochist, (although, come to think of it, I was married... TWICE... Hmm...) I was down in the dungeon again on yet another search and rescue mission...  Going through the caches of stuff squirreled away in my mom's Chamber of TERRORS! (Dun, dun, DAAAAAAH! <Dramatic Reverb!> I noticed that the labyrinth in the basement is growing larger every day. I swear the stuff is breeding... It's like a dark pit... With booby traps and pitfalls... And creatures summoned from the Netherworld... And plus, there are spiders. I hate spiders... In the midst of it all, buried up to my armpits in boxes, bubble wrap, tissue paper, paper towels, plastic bags and storage bin lids (and I think a spider touched me... It TOUCHED ME!!!!) mom bellows down, "Are you cleaning the basement? I want you to help clean out the basement!" I think I may have ruptured something... I managed a "MmmHmmmm..." through clenched teeth, but I guess it didn't quite sound very polite, so she went on a long hissy fit about something... I just cranked up the iPod and stopped paying attention... I realized some time later that she was still going on and I unplugged, right when she went into, "The things I do for you around here! I'm so tired! My head hurts... " (It's the martyr complex. We're waiting for her canonization paperwork...) I told her that I never asked her to do anything and to stop, because I got it and because I don't want to have to hear her bitch about having done it. Yeah, it went over like a fart in a car with no A/C and the windows rolled up on a hot day.

Dad finally stepped in, yelled something about "the stupid animal" (his pet name for me...), and told mom to leave me alone and let me work on the thing that she asked me to do because there are only so many hours in a given day. He pointed out that I have other things to do, at which point I thought to myself, "Holy shit! He gets it!" That was until he started rattling off a list of demands he wanted me to have done for him... <SIGH!>
I've given up on the basement. I'll "stock my shelves" for Ebay, but as far as "cleaning it out"? There is more stuff down there than I am ever going to get through... My children's children's children's children may start to get a handle on things that are down there enough to see the floor again. I don't think that basement was ever empty... Ever.

Mia here...

New to the blogging thing, but apparently it's quite therapeutic... Plus, ranting and raving is what I DO.
Through EBAY, I've met some very great/ interesting people, as I have in life. (EBAY is awesome. Online tag sale EXTRAVAGANZA! Banzai, baby! ) Military folks, house wives, new moms, people working their way through school, people who make a living off of Ebay-ing, and just some downright awesome people who took a chance and said, "Hey! You seem pretty cool!"
So, here I am... Life took some zigs, zags, dips, dives and some downright, toe curlin', hair raisin', heart pumpin', aneurysm inducing "WOO HOO HOO!"  Yup... Divorced, four kids, pathetic child support that isn't paid, no alimony, bankruptcy, house foreclosed on, moved in with mom and dad with said four kids, lost my dog, car repo'd...  Not necessarily in that order, but sounds like a bad country song, don't it?
Yeah, good times... Gooooood times.

My Cop

Found me a good man though (a cop) and I got me a best friend (a lawyer) that have been there for me through some pretty tough times. Cop and a lawyer...  I dubbed them Law and Order.  The way they'd have it though, they'd rather be called Anarchy and Chaos. It's probably more accurate anyway...
Ebay's been good to me. I sell mine and my mom's stuff online. It's been paying the bills... And I've met some really cool people. Although I love the idea of making transactions with nameless faceless people to make the money to pay the bills, (you sell, they buy, you send, done... Kinda like prostitution, but without the regret and awkward moments) if you stop and smell the roses though, there are really cool people out there... Lost faith for a while, but they ARE out there. 
Life? Yeah... What can I say. It's unfair. Life's a bitch.. Fuck it.. Fuck it hard, dry, well and repeatedly... Whose your daddy!
So, I'm back... I'm tired of having been stuffed into "the box". I don't want to be in the box anymore. Screw that! I spent way too long in a marriage that kept me in "the box". I was expected to be someone I wasn't... No more! I'm outta the box and you'll have to kill me good and dead before you stuff me back in BIOTCH!

I will rant! I will rave! And DAMN IT! "The code" has been called! I want blood! I want vengeance! I want money! I want it all!!! And a chocolate chip cookie. With caramel ribbon! Mitchell! Where is my DAMN COOKIE! Bake,  you friggin' Kosher Jew Lawyer! What was it that "he" calls you? Oh, right, you "little RAT"! You got me my divorce, now I want my CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE! WITH CARAMEL RIBBON! Thank you! XOXOX
Politics? Phew! Yeesh! Don't know where to begin... Can't even BEGIN to open up that can of worms...
Random topics? Well, don't those happen every day? You have people talking about all sorts of stuff on these "blog" things. They bitch and complain about everything... Most of them don't really go out and DO anything about it though, do they? They just like to sit and impotently piss and moan about what ails them...
I want more outta life. Patents, here I come... Books? Yeah, well, I'm workin' on it! (I promise Myra!) I'm not being the patsy for everything that goes wrong... No more. I do NOT want to be the source of blame for everything anymore. DO YOU HEAR ME?!!!
Wow! This ranting thing really is kinda therapeutic... I guess... This'll be the rant and rave forum... Ebay, parents, life, patent lawyers, politics, publishers, when things get shitty, when things don't get shitty... I'm giving myself a year and seeing where I end up at the end of it... If I'm still impotently pissing and moaning and didn't really accomplish anything... Well, I've got issues... If I've actually accomplished something, it's everyone else who's given me shit who's going to have the issues!
8/26/2011, Mia's coming with vengeance, armed to the teeth for bear, trained to shred any motherfucker in my way, and angry that life took a wrong turn... VERY angry...