The Mini Van Soap Box

I consider myself a fairly 'crafty' person. Not 'crafty' in a way of being cagey or calculating (although my husband might argue that) - but 'crafty' in an artsy fartsy kind of way. I think I have a fair eye when it comes to decorating - and my sister not too long ago got me obsessed with scrap booking. However, I don't think I was built with the extra chromosome to be exceptionally 'crafty'. My mother and sister definitely have it. Out of the thread of DNA that carries the genes, humans have 22 pairs, I think that they were born with 23 pairs. (makes them non-human?) Regardless - they are the type of people that can take some bark, a glue stick, and a paper clip and make a coffee table. My craftiness is a process, takes time - sweat and tears - and often does not turn out the way I want it.

Two things are needed for me to be crafty. I need inspiration and I need to 'feel' creative. My inspiration is pretty much always there....It's a blond, blue eyed, three year old running around the house. The "feeling creative" is where I'm running into problems.

In our old house, I had a 'craft room'. I designed it, painted it, built the desk and placed each of my craft items in a specific order. I FELT creative in that space. It was light and bright - and, in my opinion, very pretty and girly. It just "felt" good to be in there and create.

In the new house, I do have an office. But it's an office. It will, at some point in time, be used as both my office and a guest room. I do have a desk (I built the desk INTO the wall at the last house, so couldn't bring it with me) and a chair. I have my supplies and computer, printer and tools at the ready....But don't FEEL it. I feel cramped behind the desk, the chair doesn't feel right, the room is dark....and so not screaming "Scrap Me".

The last couple of days has found me going through all my scrapbook magazines, seeing if maybe this will motivate me to get going again. But alas, no. It usually just makes me hate the women that were able to find their 23rd gene pair and create the things on the pages.
I have some ideas of what to do, I'm sure MUCH to the chagrin of my husband, although he doesn't know yet. (Honey, are you reading this??) I just need to formulate it in my head. But it's starting to take shape - and I hope to soon put it into action. I do believe I see a trip to Home Depot in the future. (He's totally hating me right now by the way)

However - he DID get a new Miter Saw....So, what's the point of having it if we don't use it.

If you have been keeping up with news of late, than most of you have heard that Leona Helmsley, "Queen of Mean", died recently. Real Estate and Hotels had made her and her late husband - millionaires many times over. Convicted of tax evasion is 1989, where she commented "Only the little people pay taxes".... She spent 19 months in prison and another 2 months on house arrest. I'm sure this only made her a nicer person.

Known for her unbelievable and tyrannical behavior, personally, I imagine that not too many people were grief stricken at her passing.

However, she once again is getting the last laugh.

In her will, which was made public yesterday, she is leaving 12 million dollars.....to her dog.

Yep - Her dog.

And two of her four grandchildren get nothing. The reason she gives is "they know the reasons".

Her brother got millions, but also is tasked with caring for the white maltese Millionaire Dog, Trouble. That might not be an easy task , given the dog apparently has the demeanor much like his master - and was known to bite the housekeeper. At the time of Troubles death, he is to be buried along side Helmsley in her mausoleum. 3 million dollars has also been left for the upkeep of the Helmsley Mausoleum, which shall be "washed or steam cleaned at least once a year".

Her other two grandchildren that will receive 5 million each, are only to get that money if they visit their late fathers grave at least once a year. If they do not do this, they will not get a dime.

Other than the $100,000 that she left to her driver, all cash from the sale of her belongings and residences (which is valued at billions) will be put into the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust.

So out of BILLIONS of dollars - her brother got his share, and a mean dog. Two grandchildren got a nice $5 mil each, as long as they visit their dead father, the driver got 100 large, and two grandkids got a kick in the ass.

The dog got $12 million.

Damn - Seriously. This lady was a bitch.

Our barbecue has come and gone. It was, for the most part, a success. Almost everyone showed up - so we had around 20 folks and 2 kids. Even had a few surprise guests - my younger sister and her husband drove in from South Carolina and our very best friend Robert flew in from Prague. Now, our party was certainly not the reason they came to Virgina - but let's just pretend that they did and they just love us THAT much! Either way, it was a good group of people, we got hit a bit with rain, which actually was a bit welcome given the temperature was almost 100 on Saturday.

We have decided however that we will never do another "barbecue" the way we did this one. We thought it would be clever to really make our burgers choices a bit "gourmet" - So, we cooked each burger to order, and had about every possible combination of burger components you could think of. You want a chili cheese sauerkraut dog?....No problem. You want a medium rare, pepper jack cheese, marinated in zesty Italian marinade burger - You got it. Clever right? Yea - THEY loved it. However, this put me in front of the oven almost the ENTIRE party - and him in front of the grill the whole time. Not a whole lot of time to actually SEE our friends....

And if I'm going to be up at 6:00 AM, prepping, cleaning and such, and then spend the entire party in front of the oven - my "ever so cute - but I might as well be bare foot - sandals" were not the sensible choice of attire. My legs and feet on Sunday were inoperable.

Which leads me to the "Games" portion of the working title of this post. Sunday, after a bit of disaster relief in the kitchen, was spent on our asses in the living room with the 'box of life'. The spawn was exhausted after two big days - so she was even pretty easy to handle.

Around 10:30 or so I worked up the 'oomph' to walk three feet to the tv cabinet and turn on the XBox...and....Got the Red Ring Of Death.

So, seriously - I'm not kidding. This is a term that the entire XBox Community knows. I'll every so often get emails from some online Xbox buddies stating "Got the red ring of death - I'll see you in about a month". Don't believe me? - Look here!! I can't imagine that Microsoft / Xbox likes THAT term associated with their very expensive gaming console. Doesn't make for a great commercial.

So, the damn thing is dead. Had to call Xbox, they'll send a shipping box, I'll send it in - and hopefully in three to four business weeks I'll get it back.

With no Xbox to play - and plenty of "ass sitting" time still ahead of us we fired up the Playstation 2. Wow - does that suck compared to the Xbox. It almost felt like I was playing Dig Dug on the old commodore 64.

We all have a certain amount of things to do each day, in a sometimes very small amount of time. Grocery Store, Bank, Post Office, Dry Cleaners, Doctor Appointment, etc. That is all on top of the normal eight hour work day, the two hours of travel time, getting you and the kids ready in the morning. Add all of that up - and you have, oh, about 23 minutes each evening to hug and kiss the family, watch some tv and get all your stuff ready for the next day.

There are some very simple things that everyone could do to make MY day a little easier. Yes, folks, today - it's all about ME.

#1 - Don't ask me if I want to "start my morning with a warm breakfast sandwich" I'm a big girl. Chances are if I wanted one - I would ask for one. Just give me my venti, half-caff, whole milk, two sweet'n'low, iced latte and let me be on my way. Seriously, how often when you ask that question does someone actually say "Oh, well shit, I didn't think about it before - but now that you mention it - I will have a warm breakfast sandwich. Man, what would I do without you!"? If you want to sell the product - put it on the menu. When it's 6:45 in the morning - offend my eyes - not my ears......or my time.

#2 - If I open and hold a door for you - man or women, say thank you. There is a very good chance that the next time this happens to me - I may just take you out behind the 7-11 and beat the ever lovin' crap out of you with my purse, screamin' "didn't your mama raise you right?"

#3 - Unless you are in the Presidential Motorcade....You are a normal person, just like me. So, don't park your bright yellow Hum-V in front of the Dry Cleaner. I realize that YOU may think you are only "running in" to drop off...But unless the dry cleaner has some sort of ESP and "feels" you coming - knows each garment you are bringing - halts all other customers - and has your ticket ready and in hand....Chances are it's going to at least take you a few minutes. Parking spaces were made for a reason...Use one you douche bag.

#4 - Watch your children. All six of them. I have one child - and I find it rather difficult to restrain her at times. However, my child has some sense - and also knows that if she decides to climb the shelving at CVS and play tarzan, "time out" is the least of her worries at that point. "It Takes A Village" is becoming a lot more prevalent these days - and I have my own hands full. I really don't want to have to stop YOUR child from drinking Drano in Aisle 7.

#5 - Like everyone else in the world I have had to deal with the badly timed wedgie or an unforeseen itch. Not much you can do about it - just pull it out and keep on a'going. However, when you start to try to set the world record for how long you can scratch yourself in public - it becomes a problem for me. Go find a bathroom. Like I said in Number 4....There are children around here dude.

#6 - If I'm on the phone, and you come into my office - and I CLEARLY give you the one finger/head nod - which is the universal sign of "Yea, on the phone - I'll come find you when I'm off". Please do not plop squat in my office and stare at me until I get off. Unless I can see that your arm has been severed off - chances are whatever business you need to speak to me about is not life threatening.

#7 - While driving your car, you see a friend in the adjacent car. Please do not stop in the middle of the road or a stop light to discuss Friday night plans. Furthermore - try not to look so irritated when I would like to continue my forward progress.

#8 - Use the damn cross walk. Now this issue is mainly focused on the Hispanic population in my area - but it still really does not seem like a difficult concept to me. Why not try crossing the road - with your stroller and 8 kids - at the location where the cars are legally required to STOP? Now, I've never been to El Salvador - maybe you don't have roads there. If there is confusion as to what you should do - look for the little white digital walking man. He'll help you across the road safely. Don't try to sue me if I accidentally nip you in the heels with my Kia Minivan.

As of now - all things rude and disgusting are to be kept at least 30 feet away from me. This includes spitting, scratching, burping, hawkin' a loogie, cell phone sex, pimp mobile music blaring at level 10, picking your nose, and anything else that you wouldn't feel comfortable doing in front of your Grandmother. To do any of these things in front or around me ever again - may possibly push me over the edge, make me snap - and deal a serious case of whoop'ass on you far worse than what I'm going to do to the guy that doesn't say thank you.

I realize that I may be coming across like a raving lunatic today, but I'm really not all that concerned to tell you the truth. I might be a bit of a beer drinking, rodeo lovin', red neck....But I have some class. I clean up pretty well. Personally, I feel better every morning when that man at the 7-11 holds my door open, and I say "thank you sir", he almost always looks surprised.

Maybe it's where I live - or maybe it's the world we live in. Either way it's sad - and it's irritating. A little manners goes a long way. Sure - we're all going to screw up from time to time and irritate someone else. However a simple "I'm so sorry", "I beg your pardon"or "I'm sorry sir, my children will be killed tonight I promise you", goes a long way.

Originally I had decided not to post anything about Elvis and the 30 year anniversary of his death. I knew it would be overplayed, over talked and other people were going to do a better job than I in discussing the legend that is/was Elvis Presley.

There is no arguing that Elvis, in his own right, is indeed a legend. I was three when he died. (yes, I'm sure to some of you that is disturbing.....) However, I think my age speaks highly of his influence. Maybe it was our parents who forced Elvis on us - or maybe it was truly the greatness that he was that makes me know most of his songs.

Will my daughter, who is 3 now, know Elvis when she's 33? Chances are yes. Probably because I will make sure she does.

Music is important. And in MY family - all sides of my family - It's extremely important. It makes us happy, and it makes us sad. It clearly states what we are thinking because we can not articulate it ourselves. When my Uncle and Grandfather died this last year, there was a song, that every time I heard it, I thought "YES, that is what I'm feeling".

However, the other side of the argument.... Was Elvis so important - such an icon and legend - that still TODAY people are crying and literally DYING over his passing. (check the news - A 67 year old women died of heat while camping out for the Elvis graveside ceremony) In my opinion, no. I've never known of anyone in my lifetime - so amazing, so tremendous a person, so awe inspiring that I would stand and weep, inconsolable for days because I only looked at them.

There are true musical legends in our past. Elvis, John Lennon, Johnny Cash, Jimi Hendrex, etc. But the point is - every person has their own legend. Maybe Maurice Gibb was your thing...Or Janis Jopllin....Or maybe even Tupac Shukar, Bob Marley, Jerry Garcia, Kurt Cobain, George Harrison, or The Ramones. My brother in law....there is nothing he does not know about The Beatles. But maybe he's not a Johnny Cash fan.

It's odd to know that today - the death of the most popular musical artist would probably be forgotten about in a couple of days. Chances are - the world would not stop. We probably wouldn't make Justin Timberlakes home a SHRINE for the next 30 years.

I have to believe that there is a good and fair middle ground between the two.

However, I'm not arguing that Elvis was not great. I know his music had an effect on many lives, and probably my own, even after his death.

We celebrate the life of Elvis Presley. May those he left behind find happiness in his music.

If any of you keep up with my posts, and the comments that are left by my fantastic readers, then you may have noticed a comment that was left after I posted about being excited about the upcoming Bull Ridin' show on CMT. In this comment this lovely reader called me a "television whore." Now, while some of you may think this is a bit harsh - let me assure you that this particular person could pretty much call me anything and I would love them all the same......Not to mention I thought it was damn funny - and it gave me something to think about.

After much thought and soul searching, I have decided that I am, in fact, a television whore.

There is not much I will not watch - and sadly, find some entertaining value somewhere. I do have those things that do not interest me and would rather clean the kitchen than to watch. I am not a huge sci-fi fan: Battlestar Galactica, Stargate SG-1, Star Trek (all 27 different shows), etc. Now that is not to say that I hate those shows - I just don't have much of an interest. Most cartoons. Not the "three year old variety" that I sit through with the spawn...but anime. Now those I do detest. In those cases I would rather lick the kitchen clean. Another type of programming that I can not get behind is any show where you are supposed to find true love. I have always had a problem with those - and OH the surprise when Mr. Hunk proposes to Miss Beauty and 6 weeks after the show has ended , he's spotted getting a lap dance in Vegas by someone named Trixie. With the exception of the latter, my husband is a fan of both Sci-Fi and Anime. We find it difficult at times to have programming that we watch together.

Television is, by no stretch of the imagination, going to make me the smartest person in the room - but I do find that I can carry on at least a partial conversation with most people. I caught some of the news - so I know the basics of what's going on in the world. I watched the highlights on SportsCenter - so I can discuss baseball and steroids. And of course - I watched the entire episode of Lost, so I can try to GET OUT of the conversation of dissecting every frame of the hour long program.

I think my television whore-ness makes me well rounded.

To list every show that I watch would not only take too long - but it would be mortifying to see how many I really have. The fact that I can not remember my life before my daughter was born - which was also the same month I got my TIVO.....should certainly tell you something about me.

So, my loyal readers. There it is - An epiphany of sorts if you will. I suppose there are worse sorts of 'whores' to be....Like I guess the regular ol' garden variety whore is pretty bad.

So, I open it to you. What are your favorite shows? Are you a whore of anything?

side note: We got the TIVO because of the daughter - my television viewing time has always come second to her...Just wanted to make sure I wasn't making myself out to be a tv whore and a bad mommy at the same time! It just means I'm up very late every night. However, she is a fan of Alton Brown and loves Wheel of Fortune.

If there is anything I've learned through out this entire process of having and maintaining a beautiful backyard for all to see - is - next spring when shopping for flowers and plants I will only buy those that rodents and furry things alike think taste like dog crap. I must have done all my shopping this year at the "woodland creature barbecue and buffet" store.

A large portion of my morning was spent yesterday in the pesticide and bug-be-gone isle in Home Depot. I am not a Home Depot fan. The Home Depot commercials...you've seen 'em...."You Can Do It, We Can Help". Yea, not so much. More of the "You Can Do It...Now Go Away". Next to Lowe's (at least in this area) it's dirty, not well organized and the folks that work there have NO idea what they are talking about. The interview process must be along the lines of

"We would like you to work in the nursery department - do you know anything about flowers or plants?"
"No, but I was so wasted last night I wrapped my car around a tree. A tree is a plant, right?"
"Great - You're Hired!"

However, on this occasion as I found myself staring at a mile of toxins in which to kill the flying Wasps of Death in my backyard - this lovely looking man came over and asked if he could help me. (I doubt it seriously) I explained my situation and after a moment, he looked at me quite seriously and said...

"Do you want them to go away - Or do you want them to GO AWAY?".....

I love this man. I will adopt him. I will make him my boyfriend. A kindred spirit. I could see it in his eyes - he understood. He stands with me on my slippery slope of morality - not judging me for wanting to buy an AK47 and hide in the bush with my night goggles on.

We decided together how best to get rid of all of my pests - however, outside of the above mentioned right to bear arms, there is no "groundhog go-away" formula. A live trap is the best you can do. Also - no specific "Cicada Killer Wasp" spray. So, I just bought seven cans of regular wasp spray in hopes of just slowing them down enough that I can smack them with a tennis racket.

I return home to do some other work and when the afternoon sun starts to set I venture outside to begin. I spray the entire perimeter of the yard with "Mole and Rodent" spray - also "Rabbit Spray". I spray the garden - around the garden - the path to the garden. Before setting the live trap - I wanted to make sure that Animal Control would come and get him.

They won't. I have to take him to them. I so don't see that happening.

Oddly enough - before we hang up - she makes sure I understand that in the state of Virginia it is illegal to kill groundhogs. Damn - You think she could just HEAR it in my voice?? I didn't even say anything about wanting him dead...Wow. I think I'm wound a bit to tight over this thing.

So - in the end - I did not set the trap. Mostly just because if I catch him - then I have to transport him...And I'm not crazy about that idea.

And in a startling brilliant move - while talking to someone about the live trap - I actually said "If I do set the trap - what do you suppose I should put in there to get him to go in? What does he like to eat?"

He likes to eat all your flowers you dumb shit.

As I've stated in an earlier post, I have a new backyard. I spend a lot of time back there. Digging and planting, mulching and mowing - and for the last few weeks we've been moving around flag stones to even out this very odd 3 level tiered patio thing that the previous owners had built.

Basically what we're trying to do is pulling the pavers out - moving the dirt out and then lowering the paver so it's even with the next level down, so on and so on. Problem is - What we probably could have gotten done in one good weekend - has taken us three weeks to do. It's been 120 degrees and these pavers are HEAVY. Like serious heavy. Throw the weight on top of the heat - and they might as well be 500 pounds each. You can only do a few at a time before you get lightheaded and have to sit down for a break. Where I used to perspire like a girl - I am now full fledge sweating like a man. Literally dripping off my nose - and have large wet spots on my back. It's fairly gross. (the joke now is my husband will say "Eww...I'm sweating like a girl")

We are pretty much done now. It looks great - we just have to figure out where we're going to put all this extra dirt now.......(want some dirt? seriously we have lots) ......However, that isn't exactly the point of my post today.

My backyard is becoming a regular menagerie.

You all know about the rabbits. We also now have proof that we have a big ass freakin' groundhog. The reason we have proof is because at least once every evening I have to throw the back door open and do the groundhog dance - hootin' and hollerin' - waving my arms around trying to get Punxsutawney Phil out of my new garden. After some serious inspection we have found our fence has quite a few spots where the bugger is getting in. We've moved rocks and pavers - filled in the holes, packed it down. However you would be AMAZED how small a huge groundhog can get. So, even the smallest of areas where the fence does not meet the ground is an invitation for this guy. My backyard is eventually going to start looking pretty white trash....with little pieces of wood nailed all over the place - chicken wire and big rocks shoved in all the holes. I might as well take the wheels off the minivan and perch it up on some concrete blocks.

Instead I think I'll call animal control and see what they say - I don't want to have to shoot the damn thing....

The other new living thing we have are seriously the most terrifying things I have ever seen - (with the exception to the wolf spider party that I encountered many years ago). This 'guy' started gracing us with his presence around the time we started messing around with the flagstone patio. At first, I thought they were dragonflys, just because of the size of it. But that didn't make a whole lot of sense. My second thought was it was a cicada....but after closer examination it CLEARLY has a stinger. The damn thing is a WASP!! A mutant 2 inch wasp - and they burrow in the ground. After some internet research it turns out that it's a "Cicada Killer Wasp". Can grow to be two inches long - with at least a three inch wing span. They, as stated by their name, kill cicadas and bring them back into their burrow to feed on. While although "they say" they won't attack humans - it's still extremely disconcerting when they are doing drop bomb attacks at your face. I'm not too much of a girly girl - but these guys scare the crap out of me.

So between me running out the house every night doing the 'groundhog dance' and then swatting at this mutant wasp with whatever is handy (shovel, broom, trying to hit it with the jet stream of the hose - and spraying it with ant killer) - I'm pretty sure that my neighbors must think I'm retarded. Or have a SERIOUS case of Tourette's.

As I've said in earlier posts - My other half and I have a new home. We also have a wireless network. Cool, huh? Not for me. My office ended up being the furthest from the router and so therefore my "signal strength" is often 1....out of 56. That would explain why most of my posts happen during the day....I'm using company time to enlighten all of you.

So, I was bitching about said problem when he suggested that I get a laptop. It seems that he's noticing that this blog thing isn't just a phase for me - he also knows that I am the type of person that needs information immediately. During the middle of dinner he'll get a "Who was that guy - who played that guy - in that movie?" And the knowledge has to be obtained...right then! I know I have called my brother in law many times late at night asking obscure questions. The great thing is he's not phased by it at all...He'll say "Oh, um - John Kellog" and then we'll hang up.

What was I talking about? Oh, right - the new laptop.

So, I consider myself a pretty computer savvy person. I am able to do all the things I want to do - and don't usually have huge issues unless it is of a mechanical nature. My husband, however is a network lan/wan software computer geek. You will often hear me say in this house... "um...honey - you're geeking on me again".

Usually in our house - big gifts are trade off. You get a vacuum, I get an Ipod, sort of thing. So, in this case he is thinking about getting a new monitor and he's going to strip my desktop for parts.
So, now that I'm going to lose the desktop all together, he asked what I want the laptop to be able to do.

"Everything that the computer does upstairs...but better"
He specs one out and shows me the con figs....This means nothing to me.

I say again "just make it better then the one upstairs" and then to his absolute mortification I added "oh, and make it pink to match my cell phone!" (which I have actually retracted now - I just couldn't see myself sitting in the airport with my hot pink phone - hot pink lap top - wearing holey jeans, cowboy boots and a t-shirt that says "bite me".)

So, my requirements for my new laptop are: Make it "super cool" and make it a cool color.

Who's the geek now?

My flaws are many—some big, some small. Many of those flaws are a constant battle of self-improvement over time—and some are just that...flaws….That I really have no intention of working on. Of those, I will admit that I occasionally enjoy the gentle mocking of those less fortunate that I. By “less fortunate” I, of course, do not mean those on hard times, handicap, disabled, etc. I mean those that took a very slow walk out of the shallow end of the gene pool. Now to truly enjoy this flaw to the fullest, you must, at the same time be able to mock yourself. If you can’t turn it back on yourself—then that just makes you mean….

So, in the spirit of fairness—I share with you the true ignorance that is me.

The Other Half and I have recently bought a home. We’ve owned a few, however this is the first ‘single family’ in our career as home owners. The desire to have the yard, the neighborhood, a mail box in FRONT of the house has been growing for some time, so we finally took the plunge.

Now that we are here — I have become, for lack of a better term, obsessed with the yard. Constant weekend projects to better the appearance — and of course to make it as safe for the spawn as possible — has been our life since we unpacked. I, in my arrogance, just assumed I could grow a green thumb overnight.

The first of my blunders.

After the first set of plants I had thrown into the ground — I was sharing with my mother that I also have a family of rabbits that frequents the yard…..I think I even at one point commented on the “cuteness factor”. The very next day, while again, speaking with my mother — I commented that the wind must have been SO strong yesterday that it blew the heads off of every mum (AND ONLY THE MUMS) in the flower bed.

Please insert a long pause here where I can only assume my mother was trying to not snort wine out her nose…...Her response was “um, honey, didn't you say you had rabbits?” (Yea, bet you got there LONG before I did)

The second of my mishaps.

Few days later after the 2nd grouping of flowers, shrubs, trees and other sorts of goodies were set in their place—I asked her (yes, my mother—I talk to her a lot) why there were so many damn onions in the flower bed. We spoke of wild onions for a while—what follows is our conversation.< ”well, it’s pretty easy to just pull them up, honey. Toss them aside” “what, do you mean, pull them up—I’m digging them up every time I dig a hole” >“…………….how big are these onions dear?”
“pretty good size—1/2 a fist...I don’t know—onion size”
“I assume they smell like an onion?”
“No, not really—don’t really smell like anything”
“………………………those aren't onions jack ass. Those are bulbs"

I would say that I have learned much these last few weeks. I’ve learned the difference between annuals and perennials, what blooms in spring vs. summer, top soil variations, what goes well in the ground and what works well in a pot. I’ve also learned that bulbs are expensive and look very much like onions, as well as mini-tornadoes do not occur just in my backyard.

I’m an American. Damn Proud to be one too. I wear my stars and strips with pride, and fly my flag high on our front porch (or will again once I fix the flag pole holder). I’m a big fan of the Constitution, Bill of Rights, Pledge of Allegiance, and The Star Spangled Banner. So, that being said—I’m a fan of free speech and all those other rights we have, and so often take for granted.

Something struck me funny this weekend while flipping the channels with the other half and the spawn– A “ E! True Story on Rachel Ray”.
With no other riveting programming on at the time, we stopped and watched a while and came upon a clip of the “dark side of Rachel's life”...A whole group of people who dislike Rachel so much that an entire website and forum have been created to bash her, dubbed “rachelraysucks.com”.

Wow….

I’ll admit, I’m not a HUGE fan of Rachel by any stretch of the imagination.
I find her a bit too peppy for me...she will often give me flashbacks of an old aerobics exercise VCR tape I had—the instructor whom I wanted to pummel with my 2 pound pink weight. However, my dislike of Rachel, or the aerobics instructor for that matter, have never made me want to spend a large portion of my life making sure OTHER people knew how much I disliked her.

Thinking of that—that made me wonder how many other people in the world have nothing else better to do then to devote time to creating, publishing and maintaining a website for the one purpose of hating something/one.

Apparently people think that—
Wireless Networks, Skateboarding, Puberty, Harvard, Ford, PayPal,Cancer, Pavement, Spyware, Psychosis, Delta, Bill O’Reilly, Mac, New York Yankees, Gary Betlman and Stuff.

Now I would have to agree that cancer does, indeed, suck. And thought that “Stuff Sucks” was kind of clever, and yes, that does say “Pavement”…(I’m assuming for off roaders of some kind)

All of those things/people have websites created in the form of “XYZsucks.com”.
And that was just googling “ *sucks”…. And only the first four pages of results.

So, my point.

Stand on your soap box and hate Rachel Ray (or pavement if you rather). It’s your right—hence the beauty of this great country. However, it seems to me that you could fight against something a littler greater then that and just change the channel.

And Rachel, if your reading this, you go girl.

We’ve all had to deal with it from time to time. You need to talk to your credit card company about something—and you have to go through 27 prompts before you can get a real person. You need to cancel a flight—and you have to scream in the phone for 5 minutes “NO” to every question they ask…”I’m sorry your response was not clear, could you please repeat?”

The worse for me—as sad as it is—is the automatic drink dispensers at Fast Food restaurants.

I am a Diet Coke fiend. A day hasn't truly started until I have some sort of Double Gulp—filled to the rim with ice—and then that sweet aspartame filled liquid poured on top. And there my friends, is the problem.

The ice.

I have to have lots of it—the more the better. Yes—It gives me less soda—I realize this. A constant battle between my husbands logic and mine...but that’s the way it is.

So, as I venture through the McDonalds drive through—(because I’m either lazy and don’t want to get out of the car—or the spawn has way laid our tight schedule of the morning by tears of some kind) - I slowly pull aside the large talking metal box and speak clearly and loudly….

“Large Diet Coke With EXTRA ICE, and that’s it.”

“A sausage biscuit and coffee?”

“NO, “Large Diet Coke With EXTRA ICE, and that’s it.”

Long pause…..”1.23, first window”

Pay my money, grab my cup and shake it a bit….Extra Ice?

Alas, no. I have what sounds like 2 1/2 cubes.

There’s a button people. I’ve seen it. It’s says EXTRA ICE. Just push the damn button. In all honesty, the amount of ice I require in my drinks would probably save McDonalds about $1,000 worth of soda of year.

The Big Gulp Obsession is real folks. I’ll talk some other time about the how any car I shop for must be equipped with normal things (tires, windows, steering wheel) But I will also bring a Big Gulp with me to make sure it will fit in the cup holder. I will admit I have passed on cars that have failed this test.