I. Can’t. Even.* (Corrected)

Being an adult Can't adult today i-cant-adult-today-im-sorry-i-just-cant-db37b
























*Of course this should have posted first thing this morning but puhleeze…read the post title again.  I mean, seriously.  How can I be expected to adult after a 5 4 day weekend!?  See what I mean?  Life is tough.

Sweatpants & Coffee

I can’t recall where I heard about the website Sweatpants & Coffee.  It was probably affixed to something or other I saw elsewhere on the internet and for some time it’s been on a Post-It note stuck to my cube’s mailboxes. Today I finally had a chance to look it up. Their slogan (if that’s what you call it) reads:

“A bastion of comfort and sanity in an often uncomfortable world.”

Without browsing the site more thoroughly I can’t comment on whether that slogan is accurate, but I can say I WILL be browsing it more thoroughly.  The home page is a bit on the busy side for my taste (and time) but on my first visit I managed to find my way to the Body Mind & Soul tab toward the top and there discovered Personal Essays.  “True stories” are posted at that link by guest authors.

One essay there inspired me to write this post, my first in a while. Life has been hectic, what can I say?  For about ten days my other half and our daughter were very sick.  Somehow I dodged most of that bullet and still got out of family obligations over Mother’s Day weekend – go me!  In that same month, we visited JD’s biological father and saw his art show (less impressive than it sounds, but not because the art wasn’t outstanding). Then for the last 2 weekends we were moving the daughter into her new place which is about 5 minutes from our house.  That project first involved retrieving her U-Box (U-Haul’s version of mobile storage), unpacking it in near 90 degree heat, and toting the contents (including a sofa, dresser and full file cabinet) up to her second floor apartment. Fun times.

Then that Sunday we visited Mom at the nursing home.  Mom has been improving in leaps and bounds by the way since they took her off oxycodone.  She’s no longer paranoid, and seems like her old self, even recovering her not-so-super power:  Jewish Mother Guilt (more on that later).

Following a week at work we again helped the daughter with moving.  After picking up the rest of her belongings from her old boyfriend’s house we hauled all of that upstairs, went to dinner and the next day went to visit Mom again.  While the other visits aren’t specifically mentioned here, that makes at least 4 weekends in a row we’ve been to see her.  Each time she’s better and better and we are so grateful.

Now Father’s Day is fast approaching and of course the family plans to be together.  Not unusual – a lot of families want to be together, right?  But Father’s Day should be about what the Dad wants shouldn’t it?  That’s me standing up for JD in his desire to NOT be part of the family gathering.  After Dad passed a few years back the day just isn’t the same.  I could elaborate on how it makes JD feel but I’m pretty sure I did that last year.  In any case, he’s one of the fathers in question and he doesn’t want to go, so I don’t think he should have to.

Last Sunday during our visit he even told Mom ahead of time that we weren’t coming to dinner on Father’s Day.  He explained that we’d been extremely busy for the past several weeks – from moving K into her apartment 2 weekends in a row to his older sister’s visit the week before that – and we’re exhausted.  JD said we didn’t know what we were going to do but we needed some down time.  He told me that Mom said it was a good idea.  Then last night we got a call from my sister-in-law on the house phone. I started to ignore it but then thought it could be news about Mom which we wouldn’t want to miss.  B said she was with Mom and Mom wanted to talk to both of us so I put it on speaker.

Enter Jewish Mother Guilt.  She asked whether we were going to a hotel this weekend.  I thought from that opening that she remembered talking with JD about our not being at the family dinner and told her we didn’t know what we were doing.  Either she didn’t remember or she did and chose to ignore it, reminding us that A (our other daughter) had made reservations at a “little Italian” restaurant.  I told her we knew that and that we’d already talked with her.  Mom then said that we should bring K when we come and I had to remind her very clearly that we are not coming.  I repeated what JD had said earlier about being exhausted and just wanting some time to wind down.  We didn’t know whether we’d hole up at home, go for a drive and stay overnight somewhere or what.  She said, and I quote as near as I can remember:

“Okay. Okay.”  There was a brief pause. “Okay.  If you’re happy…okay.”  Sigh.

Cue the hair-pulling, teeth-clenching frustration.  All I said was that yes, we were happy and told her to have fun with the rest of the family.  The call ended almost immediately after that.

We didn’t lie outright about this weekend.  No definitive plans had been made at that point, though we had earlier discussed the possibility of visiting JD’s bio-dad like we did last year.  After the call with Mom, JD got on the phone and confirmed BioDad (now if that doesn’t sound like a superhero name I’m not a geeky gramma) would be home this weekend.

Boy did this ever get off topic…

I started this post meaning to build on the idea in the essay I saw on Sweatpants & Coffee and somehow it evolved into this.  Do you suppose I needed to vent a bit?  Imagine that.

So it looks like I get two posts out of that inspirational true story!  Win-win!

Stay tuned; the next installment will be up soon (fingers crossed).  And whatever your plans for the weekend, enjoy!

And now…

let me pull a rabbit out of my hat:

Did you enjoy that?

Here’s another, though not rabbits this time, still extremely cute:

Just my little way of saying thank you for putting up with me.  And making me smile when it’s really hard to pull that off.

So thanks!

You’re never too old

for the playground.  Yes, I do still visit playgrounds, though usually with one or more grandchildren in tow.  But that’s beside the point.  I’m bringing up playgrounds because The Playground is the newest title by author C.S. Boyack of Entertaining Stories.  I’ve enjoyed other titles by him and I’m looking forward to this one.  Check it out!

Cover - The PlaygroundThe hottest toys of the Christmas Season are the Playground Network dolls. They contain a worldwide social network for children. Except, the network is controlled by a ruthless businessman with dreams of power.

To reach his goals he turns to the occult. Will our children make up his personal army? Could we have an enemy soldier in every home?

Gina Greybill is a cancer survivor who stumbles into her own brush with the paranormal. She wants nothing to do with it, but may be the only one who can bring down the Playground Network. To do it she’ll have to embrace her new situation, and recover the next generation of Playground software.

There is competition for the software in the form of a brutal thug named Clovis. He’s bigger, more ruthless, and more experienced. To top it all off, he has a head start.

The Playground is suitable for more mature readers, due to violence and mature themes.

About the Author:

Craig - original

I was born in a town called Elko, Nevada. I like to tell everyone I was born in a small town in the 1940s. I’m not quite that old, but Elko has always been a little behind the times. This gives me a unique perspective of earlier times, and other ways of getting by. Some of this bleeds through into my fiction.

I moved to Idaho right after the turn of the century, and never looked back. My writing career was born here, with access to other writers and critique groups I jumped in with both feet.

I like to write about things that have something unusual. My works are in the realm of science fiction, paranormal, and fantasy. The goal is to entertain you for a few hours. I hope you enjoy the ride.


Janey Got Back


From Saffire — The Uppity Blues Women (thank you Craig for reminding me):

And how could I forget this?  Again, thanks to Craig:

Original post follows.

Thank goodness for my booty!  Yes, you read that right – my booty!  My backside, my tuches, my keister!  For anyone still unclear – my butt.  Thank goodness for my butt!

I was on the bus the other day when this wave of gratitude washed over me.  Another passenger stood up when the bus arrived at her stop.  As she waited for the driver to open the door she hiked up her jeans and her action caught my eye.  Then of course all I could see was that she had no backside. None. Nada. Zilch  There was nothing there to assist in keeping her pants up!  That’s when I realized that without my curvy derriere I might have the same problem.

I know, I know, sloppy, falling-down pants are in right now.  But I don’t care how fashionable some people believe them to be, you’ll never see them on this body.  Never, ever.  And honestly, does anyone really like that look?  I mean really?  Pull up your damn pants!  No one wants to see what’s under them or worse, that there’s nothing under them!

Thinking along these lines lead me to realize how grateful I truly am for my posterior.  Even ten years ago I would have laughed out loud if someone had told me one day I would love my butt.  I mean come on, it’s big people – not circus tent big but definitely above average.

If the media is to be believed a great number of women obsess about the size of their bottoms.  The actual number may even rival those who obsess about their breast size, but that’s a topic for another day.  If I’m honest with myself, I still have days when I’m not too happy with the backside.  But then JD will grab a handful when I least expect it, giving a little love tweak and I’m good again.  (Sorry if that’s TMI, it’s part of my evolution to loving the butt so it has its place here.)

I truly believe women should be celebrating their behinds.  From what I can see, a lot of men seem to enjoy them.

Bob Seger sang about Her Strut in the 80s.  While this isn’t specifically about a full-figured, round behind, it definitely refers to a female butt and the opposite sex’s appreciation of it.

“She’s totally committed to major independence, but she’s a lady through and through. She gives them all that they can handle, she’ll bruise some, she’ll hurt some too. But ohh, they love to watch her strut!  Ohh, they DO respect the butt!”

Then there’s Trace Adkins’ pleasure in the feminine anatomy not so long ago:

“…how’d she even get them britches on that honky tonk badonkadonk?”  And later, “We hate to see her go but love to watch her leave.”

From the lyrics you can surmise that it’s a larger than average posterior they’re talking about.  Too bad the official video used slimmer women who in my opinion, had almost non-existent butts.  But social media’s influence is everywhere, isn’t it?  And big butts aren’t politically correct.

That brings us to Sir Mix-A-Lot’s Baby Got Back.  The beginning of the official music video shows 2 Valley Girl-types discussing a Black woman’s behind.  “I mean, her butt, it’s just so big…”  The downside to this homage to a nicely shaped rear is that it’s very sexual.  It’s completely inappropriate for your pre-teen even if it might help boost her self image. My introduction to it was in the movie Shrek of all things.  And then I saw this:

I can’t recall how I discovered it but I watched it one day at work and had to force myself not to dance along.  They had so much fun with this that I could disregard the lyrics and just have a great time along with them.

While tracking down the videos for this post I also ran across this clip which I had never seen.  The best part starts about 4:44 but feel free to watch all 5-ish minutes.

I’m sure I’ve missed some obvious tributes to the female anatomy so feel free to suggest them in the comments if you wish.  I’ll wind this up with one last video that tickles me:  All About That Bass, by Meghan TrainorMy favorite part is the big guy’s moves, and boy can he move!

As the lyric goes, “I’m bringin’ booty back!”



Unintended Irony

Last night I had to go for a pedicure.  And by “had to” I mean HAD TO!  My big toenails tend to become ingrown if I don’t have regular pedicures, and as I was overdue by about 2 weeks I knew it was past time to get my feet in there, while I could still walk.

I’ve been going to the same place for around 4 years off and on.  Sometimes I’ll be in another town visiting family or my best friend and we’ll go to their nail salon, but usually I give my business to one of the local places near my home.  It’s bright and cheery and often very, very busy.  They’ve always had a spa chair sized for children too in case you want to bring along the little ones and introduce them to the joys of a nice foot soak and/or bright polish.  That’s about all they do for the kids; there’s no cuticle trimming or pumicing – why would there be?  They have baby soft skin after all the little brats!  Uh…um, sorry, I meant the little darlings!  Of course I did.  You can’t prove otherwise!

Anyway, to get back to my point (I think I have one here somewhere), they recently updated their child’s chair.  I’ve not yet brought any of my grandkids with me so I never had any reason to notice the original chair.  Last night though I found myself really seeing the new chair which looks like this:

Child's pedicure chair

In case that image is too small, check out this detail:

Child's pedicure chair - detail

See it?  Do you see it people?  A mermaid.  And quite possibly a cousin or other relative of Ariel from Disney’s motion picture at that.

See what I mean about irony?  Unintentional of course.  If you’re not getting it let me expound.  You know how I love expounding!

One of Merriam-Webster’s simple definitions of irony is “a situation that is strange or funny because things happen in a way that seems to be the opposite of what you expected”.  What the heck is a mermaid doing on a pedicure chair when a mermaid has no feet?!

See?  Unintentionally ironic.

It’s a slippery slope

It started innocently enough:  an occasional early morning visit with my friend from the billing department, and only when I had a gift card.  I was adamant about that…in the beginning.

Then work got busier, more stressful and I found myself looking for excuses to get away from my desk, get outside, get away!  The visits became more frequent, and now I was spending my own hard-earned money.  With the weather growing chillier it became even easier to justify stopping in and dropping a few bucks on my way to the train.  Hell, I even took the time on my way back from the chiropractor the other day.  Then I stopped again on my way to catch the train home.  Twice. In. One. Day!

It’s a slippery slope my friends.  If you aren’t already addicted to Starbucks* stay away – it’s a TRAP!




*We’re not talking fancy coffee here either; I almost never get anything other than a grande drip Pike for heaven’s sake!

I’m going to hell…

I’ve never made it a secret that I was raised in the Christian faith, though “raised in” is a bit loose for what I really was.  I regularly attended church with my grandma while my grandpa was decidedly less-than-Christian with me at home.  ‘Nuf said about that I think.

Seriously, I believe in God.  I can’t say that I understand him or that I am a consistent follower, but I believe in him and try to make my life choices such that I don’t piss him off.  (See the Old Testament for examples of God’s state of pisseration.  We do NOT want to go there!)  Of course if God were threatened by every television show or film which dissed him I think there’d be a whole lot more plagues going on.  Just saying.  Hey, I never said I was good Christian.

So all of that was the lead-in to this:  I ADORE the new Fox television show Lucifer!

Briefly, Tom Ellis plays Lucifer Morningstar or The Devil.  He’s grown bored with being the Lord of Hell and has taken a vacation to – where else? – Los Angeles, where he owns a night club. He’s charming, incorrigible, and hard to resist.  In fact he’s completely irresistible to everyone except Chloe Decker, a female cop.  Her ability to ignore him fascinates him.  At one point he asks her, “Did my father send you?”

It’s a police procedural slash buddy show which is already rumored to have been cancelled.  In addition, there is apparently a lot of controversy about the show trying to paint Lucifer as a misunderstood but basically good guy.  I didn’t do a lot of research on this but just skimming Google results shows that there are many groups out there who think Lucifer is evidence of how low humanity has sunk.  Some say it mocks the bible. Petitions were begun last year following Fox’s announcement of the show; no one had even seen it yet.  Talk about overreacting.

Coming from a semi-religious background I can sort of see why people of faith might be put off by the show.  But come on people, grow a sense of humor would you?  It’s supposed to be entertainment, not doctrine.  And it’s based on a comic book character, NOT the devil depicted in the bible.

I can understand if they cancel it based on the fact that it’s on the predictable side, not to mention the whole “cop show with a twist” idea hasn’t been too successful of late.  But it’s funny and clever and if it goes away I’ll miss it.  At least till the next funny and clever show comes along.

I have made a terrible mistake

Why yes, I am stealing images from my own posts.  Sue me.

terrible mistake

Except I know I made a terrible mistake.  A terribly, horribly life-changing mistake.

Recently Sprint started nudging me to install the new system update.  Well, I made that mistake once before and it ruined my phone people!  I’m not about to start that again.  But Sprint isn’t one to give up easily.  I can’t find any way to turn off that damn reminder so every time I wake my phone the message lurks there waiting to trip me up.

I even searched online hoping to find someone out there who had shut up the Beast but all I found were whines about how awful the 2015 update was.  That of course added fuel to the fire in my belly to defeat the monster.  (Wow Janey, dramatic much?)  This has been going on for weeks now and over the weekend I finally had had enough.

Saturday afternoon I copied several of my phone’s folders to our computer.  I imported all the photos and video to that computer too.  Did you know that every time you open a page in the browser on your phone any images are saved?  Hell, the photos I’ve deleted were all saved too.  There were over 5,000 images in the import folder when it was done!  When I took time to scroll through them the next day I deleted all but a couple hundred or so.  I’d love to know how to avoid having all those images saved in the first place.  Anyone?  Anyone?

After attempting to protect the information I wanted to keep I took the next step, one I’d been avoiding since I inadvertently installed the first update – I reset my phone to the factory defaults.

Cue dramatic pause while that sinks in.

Yep, it was a drastic move by a desperate woman.  I wanted to go back to where my phone was when I first got it so I could tell it to stop looking for updates at all.  I’m not a fan of change; I may have mentioned that in a previous post or four.  However, unsurprisingly this ended in disaster more surely than installing the update might have.

There had been no folder for my contacts.  Everyone I knew, whether close personal friends, family members or frequented businesses – gone in the blink of an eye.  Well okay, it took a little longer than the blink of an eye; call it poetic license.  My contacts folder was bare.  In addition, all my apps were gone.  I knew that would happen – hell, I made a list of them so I’d remember which ones to download again.  But I forgot one thing.

I’m on my daughter’s family plan.  To use Google Play I had to log-in with the dummy account she set up for me.  And that information was saved in the phone’s Notebook app, which was wiped out along with everything else.

To add insult to injury?  Even back at the phone’s default settings I couldn’t find the place where you can turn off the automatic updates.  I’m not sure it even really exists.  Sprint is still nudging … hell, now its outright poking me to install the update.  Sigh.

If anyone needs me I’ll be curled in the fetal position under my desk.