Children:The Untold Story

I hate children.

Dogs behave better than children.

Dogs value your opinion, children do not.

This leads me to believe that dogs are higher up on the evolutionary chain than children.

Perhaps if children were crate trained as most dogs are, they would rate higher on the evolutionary chain.

                                             What so-called "normal" people see.

                                                           I see Cthulhu.

Children love to scream, wail, and annoy.  Their lungs can rival an opera singers for pitch, range and octave. This is why the Victorians always stated that children should be seen but not heard. It's nothing a little duct tape and ingenuity wouldn't be able to mend.  But, for some reason, it isn't socially acceptable to tow children around with their mouths taped shut.

                                     Leashes, however, are becoming more acceptable.

I also think childhood obesity could be solved quite simply by encouraging a child's natural desire to chase and fetch.  I mean, why wouldn't you want your child trying to capture squirrels in the backyard?  The squirrel is going to escape 98 percent of the time...the child is going to learn some new tactics..and once in a while the child scores a meal.

                                              More nutritious than a Happy Meal.

Children could also be utilized as guard dogs, because, like dogs, they have superior hearing and like to bite.

                            Never get down on their level, its a mistake that could be fatal.

Cute Animal Zoo

I want to start a zoo. A private zoo.  My friend Ruth is helping.  She already has a tribe of rabbits, some horses, a dog, a cat, a hedgehog, chickens, and the newest addition, a baby woodchuck (which she is trying to domesticate because it is soooo stinking cute),  I have a bunny, two dogs, two cats and several fish.

                                                   There are things I want to add to the zoo.

                                            Baby skunks. One of my favorites from childhood.

                                           Lynx cubs. Can't go wrong with more kitties.

                                         A hippo, of course, and a giant tortoise.

                                             Anteaters. They are so weird and I love them.

                                        Also, a baby triceratops....squeee! 

                                         Rounding out the list, an elephant.

List is subject to change without notice, species will be added based on interest.

Resident Weirdness

Odd week.

I was asked if Tractor Supply company sold stamps.

The bleach blond mullet man wearing the watermelon pink lipstick and requesting kitten milk replacer for his baby raccoon came back and bought dog food. By the way, his fingernails were au naturel.

I found a plastic fork on the rim of the ladies' room trash can.

Jason nearly got run over in the parking lot while he was loading a compressor into an SUV that an old man in a giant truck rear-ended.

Jon's boss quit. Jon was just promoted to crew lead, and now his new boss wants to promote him to hourly manager. And he doesn't really want to be promoted; not that I blame him. It's all bullshit.

I came back from lunch and got yelled at by a customer for something that had absolutely nothing to do with me. All I did was try to fix the problem.

Jon was asked by his district manager "What is your ironing situation?"  The stupid manager shirts are the wrinkliest thing known to man and we don't own an iron.

Jon asked to borrow an iron from his mom and Jon's dad trolled garage sales and bought 2 irons.  Jon once asked for a fish tank and received at least three. I mean the man is good-hearted but you have to tell him to STOP!

The reciever at work got a better job. I learned apparently lots of people want her position. I have no idea why. Soooo much responsibility, not enough pay and lots of people angry at you if nothing goes well, its not like being a manager and she's the entire shipping department.  It really should be a two person job. Reciever and assistant to the reciever.

Un-Holidays and Consumerism

Marketing gurus in America perform a neat trick that cleverly links "holidays" with spending hard-earned cash on meaningless crap.  If you are someone (like me) who doesn't buy into the bullshit, then you are a heretic. I can live with that. 

I'm heretical on several levels.

The first and foremost being religion.  I am not a devout follower of any religion.  I see no reason to believe in a higher power other than Mother Nature.  She can wipe my sorry little ass off the planet with one bat of her eyelash if she chooses, and she doesn't require oddities such as human sacrifice, mass, confession, Sundays spent staring at a wall while a man (or woman) drones on about hellfire and damnation, prayer, meditation, or really anything at all. If she wants me to die, then I die. There is absolutely no recourse. I'm fine with that. That's life.   

 I am always startled when religious and non-religious people all rush out on Black Friday for an orgy of spending.  I don't know if this is supposed to appease Jesus, Mother Nature, Buddha, President Obama or some other entity; but the marketing geniuses have cleverly worked guilt into the equation.  You are a bad son/daughter/sister/brother/mother/father if you don't buy many many gifts for the people in your life.  Christmas is the season for giving (with your wallet mainly) and please make it something expensive! 

Then there is Zombie Jesus Day (Easter for the lay-person); a day when kids all over America hunt boiled eggs, open plastic candy-filled eggs, and search a basket for the all mighty toy!  Let's not tell them that Easter is actually an ancient celebration of rebirth and renewal that Christians have twisted into their religion for their own use. But I really fail to see what bunnies, chickens, and zombie Jesus have to do with candy and toys.

There are non-religious examples as well. Mother's Day and Father's Day.  I don't celebrate either day.  Does this mean I don't love my mother and father? No. I love them very much. I even appreciate them.  It just means I don't feel guilty about not buying presents.  I called my mom yesterday and wished her a happy day.  Not because it mattered a damn bit to me (as most socially accepted things do not) but it mattered to HER.  I couldn't talk long because I had a migraine and I was certain I was about to vomit from the pain, but once I told her that, she chatted away and didn't expect me to say much. And didn't object when I said I had to get off the phone because I was going to be sick.  She was just as happy as if I'd bought her flowers or a present.  A gift of time is more important than a gift of money, at least to me.  The marketers would have you believe otherwise. Yes, BRIBE your way into your mother's heart.

Valentine's Day is an abomination. Yep, I think most Americans do wait until that one day in February to tell their wife/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend that they love them. And they don't say it with gestures and words, they say it with money.  "Don't you see I love you? I spent $50 on roses, and we're going to dinner somewhere expensive!"  Is it any wonder half of all marriages end in divorce?  Roses and expensive dinners aren't going to open up any sort of communication. And, since Jon and I often get our wires crossed, communication is the key.

I'm proud to be a heretic.

My Feelings of Anti-Socialness Continue

This week I have learned I really, really dislike auctions/estate sales and the people who attend the sales.  This is the second day of the sale at the house next door. Lots lighter on the people than the first day, of course; and the people are much less annoying.

A few tips on neighbor-house etiquette for those attending these sales:

1. Do NOT block driveways.  This makes people who need to leave to go to work, attend a doctor's appointment, or come home from shopping very, very irritable.  Also, the old lady across the street has a hard time walking; so if you block her driveway, I might just puncture a few of your tires just so you are also greatly inconvenienced. 

2. Do NOT park directly across from said driveway when it is already surrounded by closely parked cars. Just HOW is one to dodge two cars on either side of a driveway and the one immediately behind when there is nowhere else to go?  It was so bad at one point I wouldn't even have been able to drive on my lawn to get to the street.  I imagine if I had run outside with my sledgehammer and started denting the offending cars I would have gotten some people to park elsewhere.

3.  Don't stare in through my windows while you are snooping next door.  You will catch me hanging up laundry in my other living room on the clothesline I installed there because we have decided not to fix the dryer.  You will catch us walking around possibly naked because the clothes we need may be hanging from that clothesline. This will be more than you bargained for.  This is MY house. If I want to be naked inside it, I will be.  Anything you might not want to see is all your fault for looking into people's windows.

4. Don't give the residents attitude when asked to move the 20 foot Buick you used to block two thirds of their driveway.  No one believes that you drove here in that boat and didn't realize it doesn't fit in a space that will only contain a compact car.  We might just decide to whip out a penis and piss through those windows that are cracked for ventilation.

5.  If you are a yuppie douche bag, leave the blue tooth, the natty khaki pants and all your douche-baggler attire behind. No one here is impressed by your wardrobe. In fact, most of us are quite annoyed with your "goon suit."  Ties aren't even sturdy enough for you to hang yourself from, or I'd suggest you do so if you can't at least lose the blue tooth.

 And my favorite reason not to annoy the residents: I saw a car fire on the freeway three nights ago.  It was the most awesome thing I've seen in a long time.  The whole front end of this shit box was entirely engulfed against the night.  The fire department and the cops had just decided to let it burn because it was beyond stopping.  It was a beautiful thing.

Jeep-In-Stein Lives!!! (And other Rambling)

Jon's Jeep died.  No jumping would cure it.  Jon assumed, since it was starting harder and harder that it was the alternator. So we called Ed, our lovely dime store mechanic (don't get me wrong, I love this guy) who came over and installed a new alternator.  It still wouldn't start.  Ed switched batteries with his van. Battery is fine.  He takes the starter off the Jeep.  He then bangs on the starter and hooks it up to jumper cables and a live battery. Starter decides to work.  He then puts the starter back on the Jeep and it roars to life.  Apparently, the leaky seals have leaked oil onto the starter and the oil has leaked into the starter. He said he's coming back next Sunday to tinker with the starter and tear it apart to clean it out. This man, as far as I am concerned, is a genius, and somewhat of a magician. He seemed perturbed that he didn't think of this first and sorry that we bough an alternator.  Eh, whatever, one less thing to have to replace later. New alternator means I shouldn't have to buy one anytime in the near future. Ed genuinely loves  to tinker that makes him incredibly valuable so we always give him more money than he asks for; and he never asks for much.

My neighbor, Betty's, car got stolen. It was a crappy Dodge Stratus with umpteen thousand miles on it. And it was an ugly gold color, the front end didn't quite line up, and other things.  She'd saved up $200 to buy it.  No idea why anyone would want it. No one heard or saw anything. So weird.  She talked to us about it for a while today.  She's still looking for it--even in bits and pieces on Craigslist.  Her boyfriend's dad gave her a car to use. She can't afford to buy one. She's in college and sounds like she works to pay for her own bills (I like her more every time I talk to her).  And, it was stolen basically from in front of our house. This is frightening. Not that I have much to steal, but if someone steals our cars we'll be shit out of luck just like she is.  Her and her dad Dwight are the most personable people who live next door. The mom is really crabby and the son won't even wave.

After three years I have learned I have tilt-in windows. Which means I can clean the outsides of my windows from the inside of my house. Wow. I feel stupid.  I had no idea why I could take screens out and not figure out how to put them back in.  Also, my windows are cleaner than they were when we moved in.  This is one repair they did right. There are lots of repairs/upgrades (including the kitchen cabinets that previous owners installed) that were obviously rigged up.  My mom has always wanted these windows which is probably why I had no idea what those weird little switches were for.  Today, since I was waiting for the Jeep to be repaired I decided to investigate. I am glad I did.  The only windows I have yet to clean are the small ones in the window room and the bunny room windows.

Ramble. Ramble.

Top Ten Stressors

So, once again, Jon says I am acting crazy. Go figure. He even listed some of my top ten stressors to improve my mood, or piss me off further, who knows? 

So here it is, my top ten list:

1. I hate where I live.
Oh, the house is just fine, I don't care that the plumbing is shady, that my dryer quit working and that I've decided that since we are poor that I'll say the hell with the dryer and go for indoor and outdoor clotheslines. But I hate where I live. I hate that my neighbors are 10-20 feet from my house. I hate that its a suburb of Detroit. I hate that no one on the block even knows my name because I sure as hell don't know their names or even know anything less than obvious about them because NO ONE FUCKING CARES here.

2. I hate that I am trapped.  I don't have the money to move again. I can't even ever seem to save up more than a few hundred dollars, and, once I do, something breaks that needs serious and immediate repair.  Our house will never sell because people are afraid to live in Redford because it "is rough" and because we've never been able to fix anything that's been wrong with it since we've moved in except for the porch, which really was the least of its problems.  Also, its value has dropped at least 10,000 dollars since we signed the mortgage.

3. It's too loud and bright here.  The sirens on the freeway never stop, the sound of traffic is endless, the neighbors' barking dogs, the phones ringing in the neighbors' houses, the sound of horrible screaming children, the constant annoyance of Jehovah's Witnesses...it never stops. Ever.  It's enough to make me want to take an assault rifle to the highest point in town and just start popping people just so there will be less of them.  The sky is never actually dark. I wake up at 5 am because its too fucking bright in our bedroom and can't go back to sleep.  The sky is orange and there are no stars.

4.  I can't take walks.  I want to take walks, real ones, up hills, down hills, across streams, in the mud, in the sun, in the rain. I don't want to see a person I don't know, a car I don't recognize, or walk by houses whose occupants I've never met.  So, of course, I don't take walks. Which makes me sad and makes stress.


5.  Jon wants me to feel guilty. He does. He lays it on pretty thick when he says I'll just sit still and drink a pint of vodka. Maybe I will. So what? I don't drink daily, or even every week. So when I want to drink I might just down a whole pint myself.  My body actually processes alcohol pretty efficiently.  I've been hungover a total of four times in my life.  And only once severely.  I've downed more pints of vodka than that.  My whole family can hold their alcohol.  And, since I have no car since he took mine, and his won't start, why did he bring this up anyway?  I don't HAVE any vodka.

6.  I don't go anywhere.  There is simply, nowhere to go.  I don't want to go shopping, I can't afford anything, and I don't think buying a bunch of shit is going to make my life any better.  The parks all suck because they aren't parks in any stretch of the imagination.  They are picnic tables, softball fields and filled with boring self-important people who run because they might gain an ounce, or oh, no, they have screaming horrible children and I can't relax there.  If I feel like it I might visit a friend but I don't make a habit of popping over to someone's house just because I'm bored, plus this would get expensive in gas money.  All the ones I want to see live more than ten minutes from me.

7.  My job sucks.  Not that most people's don't. I hate the Nazi's and lately have been letting my duties slide because I don't give a fuck.  Why should I care to enrich some CEO's pocket's?  I don't make shit, I'm just a grunt whose sweat these people suck off of to make millions. Fuck them.  Why do none of the boys get stuck on register duty, but I've been there five years and know more than any of them and I am still pulling 8 hour register shifts?  Gee, because its a sexist corporation.

8.  Facebook. It started as a way for me to keep track of my family but now, I want to barf every time I read some sickening sweet status about how so and so's baby is special because its a god damn baby.  No, its not special. It's a baby. Sometimes I think there should be an option to block anyone mentioning "baby" and "precious" in the same sentence.  I used to miss my brother.  Now, I think I can do without seeing him because I don't want to be in the same room with his wife and their new spawn.  I don't get all warm and fuzzy about being an aunt.  Unless they can potty train it before it can walk by saying "Out, pee?" and the kid responds by crawling toward the front door, I am not even impressed. It's a kid. An expendable cog in the wheel of humankind.

9.  My parents. I love them but I know they think I've made all the wrong choices, including moving here, and marrying Jon. I have known they were right about me moving here for a long, long time.  But I guess its my own life to ruin as I see fit.  My dad isn't really fond of Jon, at least not that I can see. He's not outwardly hostile, he just doesn't really like him.  The hell of it is, I even understand why and am not angry that they feel that way...and maybe I should be a little angry.

 10. Jon.  How come he gets to go berserk and crazy and I try to bring him out of it, but when I do, its the end of the world and he leaves me to my own devices?  Who wouldn't be stressed?