This was going to be another in the "Insane Rambling" series, but I seem to have lost count and am unsure as to what number this would have been.  The title really means nothing although I'm sure that the same individuals who inundate me with questions about my feelings while actually disguising the fact that they truly believe the sun rises and sets around them will beg to differ as is the way of the pompous asses of the world.  Yes, that was a run on sentence, feel free to circle it in red on your screen right before you fuck off.   Don't screw up your face like that, it might stay that way and then you'll NEVER get laid!  I'm not in a bad mood at all but if I tell you I'm happy you'll want to know why, how, who's responsible and then want to pat yourself on the back for being the source of all that is good in my life.  Get over yourself.  I am the only one responsible for anything that I think or feel.  Me me me!  There is so much going on inside my brain right now and just not enough time to torture it out of me, but keep the electrodes hot just in case we need them later.  That's the way, uh huh uh huh I like it uh huh uh huh.

     Ah, this is better.  My offspring are tucked in bed and I can write without distraction.  I am still enjoying the clarity that comes as a result of music blaring in my head and since mi esposo is off work for the next two nights, he can be the ears while my fingers fly across the keyboard.  It's only fair to warn you; just because my mind is more clear when music occupies the empty space doesn't mean any of this will make sense to anyone but me.  It doesn't have to, this is my space, if you think you are worthy of an explanation feel free to ask, but don't act injured when I tell you to fuck off yet again.  Dammit, "You" is playing....I'm just going to take a minute to sit and think about a very special friend down in Florida, never fear, I'll be back.....

     As promised, I have returned to this exercise in utter uselessness. Has anyone noticed that I have no point at all that I'm trying to make?  Or maybe that IS my  point, there doesn't have to be a point to everything I'm doing.  Pointless.  FUCK...the music is not helping anymore as I can conjure up the image for every song that has assaulted my ears.  "in my head....your voice...you've got all that I need...and this make believe will get me through another lonely night".... I can't seem to get my fingers and brain synched up tonight and I still haven't finished the plans for the thought activated keyboard to transcribe what I'm thinking for me.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go pour myself a drink then paint my toenails, or maybe I should do that the other way around?  Fuck it, I'm going to get tipsy, get naked and play Guitar Hero! 

     Sitting with the laptop balanced on my legs I stare at the blank screen wondering how I am possibly going to get all the convoluted thoughts in my brain condensed into a blog entry that doesn't need it's own zip code.  The blinking cursor taunts me and eventually hypnotizes me until I find myself staring vacantly.  Images start to move through my mind; people, places, things and soon sounds weave themselves into the physic t.v. show playing games with me.  Music translates into movement as a song becomes a well choreographed dance number finally bringing me back to the moment. The cursor is still blinking, the page is still blank.

     With a long sigh I close the window and decide to return to where my vagrant ideas and dirty thoughts go to wait for their call back.  My wordpad.  I write like I read, in bursts.  Sometimes I have an idea, so I peck it out and save it in a wordpad document before a shiny object distracts me.  Other times I actually finish a story later deciding that it's either too good, not good enough, too dirty or too...something I can't find a word to describe, but I don't want it published on my space.  Add it to the files. 

     If anyone ever wanted to really know who I am, they should sneak a peek in my word padded cell.  What lies in there would frighten, amuse, confuse, offend, arouse and amaze most people.  Sure, there are some who think they know me.  They have no idea.  What you might think makes me laugh doesn't, how you want me to react is of no importance to me, what you think I'm going to say, feel, think or do will only result in your inevitable disappointment. The best advice I can give you is to grab a snack and something to drink and enjoy the show.  The words will find their way, somewhere.    

     This afternoon the spouse and I were sitting in the living room when out of the blue he turns to me and says:

"Let me shoot you with the airsoft rifle".....the conversation then progressed like this:

     Me: (looking up from magazine), "Ummm....I'm going to go with no. Why?"

Hubby: " I want to see if it hurts"

    Me:  "So shoot yourself then."

Hubby: "I thought about that, but since it's a rifle, it'll be too close range"

    Me:  "your point is?"

Hubby: "Do you think when the boy gets home he'll let me shoot him?" 

     Me: "ask him on Friday, he probably would though"

Hubby:   "Do you think that...no, well...no"

     Me: "Are you all right over there?"

Hubby;  "Shoot me with the airsoft rifle"

   Me: "OK!! Go get it!!"

So Hubby goes to get the airsoft rifle.  I put the magazine down on the couch next to me damn near giddy with excitement.  Hubby comes back into the living room and hands me the airsoft.

      "Do you know how to shoot it?"

me:  "shut up and stand over there."

     Hubby: (looking a lot less brave now that his wife is sitting on the couch holding a semi-automatic airsoft rifle)  "Ok, but make sure you shoot me in the butt"

me: "Ready?"   I shoulder the rifle and line up the sight (I know how to handle a gun AND I'm a good shot too!)  "Ok, here goes"

     I fire the rifle hitting hubby about two inches right of his ass crack right at the edge of his jean's pocket

YEEEEEEEEEEEEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!! UNH UNH MOTHER FFFFF  PIECE OF SSHHHHHHHHH OOOH OOOH GOD

(ACCOMPANIED BY THE WELL KNOWN LEAPING AROUND THE LIVING ROOM CLUTCHING HIS ASS, HOPPING AROUND FLAILING OF THE ARMS DANCE)

At this point I am laughing so hard that sound has stopped coming out of my mouth, my eyes are filled with tears and all I can see is my hubby prancing about the room like big bird in high heels and he's swearing like Yosemite Sam!!  I finally manage to squeak out, "are you ok?"  To which he, now also in the throes of hysterical laughter, answers:  "That's gonna leave a mark!"  and it did!

     As I walked down the hallway today the open door taunted me.  I decided to amble in the room, make the bed, open the curtains and window and let some fresh air in.  Leaving the room I stopped at the doorway and turned around.  "I'm not going to cry" I told myself again.  After all, it's only 5 days. 

    Face to face with my indisputable humanity, I inhaled deeply, fought back the tears once again and set about straightening my daughter's room to occupy my mind.  I smiled as I gathered up her stuffed toys and smoothed her sheets.  This is better. I'll be fine. 

    Cut to bed time.  After laying on the bed and letting my daughter read to me, I kissed her goodnight, turned off the light and pulled her door closed.  Back in the hallway again I tried to get from her room to mine without making eye contact with the open door.  Successful in my quest, I changed out of my skirt and blouse and tied on a sarong, forgetting that I had to leave my room once again and pass my son's room in order to get to the living room.

    Cautiously reaching for the handle on my bedroom door I pulled it open and stepped through the double doors.  There it was again, the open door, that's where I finally lost my battle of wills against my more human side.  I found myself standing in the door to my son's room and crying.  An entire day's worth of stoicism cast by the wayside as tears rolled silently down my cheeks.  Dammit...I really hate to cry.

    My son left for outdoor science school today.  Until Friday he and the other 5th graders will be up in the mountains learning all sorts of fascinating things.  Until Friday I will be acclimating to having one of my babies away from my nest.  Sure, he's been away at a friend's house for a weekend, and I didn't cry. Why is this so different?  I suppose this is good practice, and for all of you, a reminder that despite evidence to the contrary, I am human after all.

     The proof presents itself over and over.  Britney and Kevin, Anna Nicole Smith and (insert any man's name here), Whitney and Bobby, Curt Cobain and Courtney Love to get us started. I still think that a mandatory IQ test should be given along with a test of basic skills in order to procreate, but for some reason, I can't find out who I have to blow to get this law passed.  It seems I'm not too sick to get my knickers in a twist, oh nooooo!  Since I still live on Mars, I have been inside the house for the last couple of days which irks me enough on it's own, but then I go and turn on the computer to see this shit, "Vegan Couple Sentenced to Life Over Baby's Death"

     Now I'm not opposed to this duo of dee dee dee's being punished for not having the common sense enough to feed their infant.  My issue lies with the choice of words for the article's title.  Vegan couple.  Not idiot couple, or even, say...unfortunately fertile couple, but Vegan couple?  Being a Vegan had nothing to do with their ability to feed, or more accurately, not feed their baby.  I have been a vegetarian for nearly 18 years and in those 18 years I planned and perfectly executed 2 pregnancies and completely natural childbirths.  Both of my children were over 9 pounds at birth and continued to gain weight, well...they haven't stopped yet. 

     While I understand the difference in Vegans and vegetarians is that Vegans are much more militant in their completely animal free (which is a whole other can of worms...but I'll stay on topic today) lifestyle and are generally following said lifestyle because of their animal rights beliefs *yawn*.  I, on the other hand, am not so noble in my reasons for not scarfing down the animal flesh.  My body lacks an enzyme needed to break down the animal proteins, so mine is purely from an intestinal rights stand point.  I do eat eggs, cheese, and drink non fat milk, but even without meat, I managed to grow and nurse giant babies.  No one had to take me aside and whisper, "you know...since you are a mammal, your body will produce milk and you can feed that to your baby"  It must have been, what's the fancy term for something you just do despite never being taught...hmmm, oh yes, MATERNAL INSTINCT!!!  Fuckers.

     How stupid can two people be to think that an infant can survive on soy milk and apple juice?  For one, most soy milk has, "not to be used as a substitute for infant formula" printed somewhere on the container. Is this couple illiterate? If so, would the article have said, "Illiterate couple sentenced to life over baby's death"?  Would this have been insensitive of the journalist?  I mean how callous to insult their intelligence or complete lack thereof, but their choice not to eat anything that once had a face, well that must be why their child starved to death.

    This makes me wonder if they have licenses to drive, since they obviously didn't need one to mate?  Even most wild animals have more sense than this.  Do you think the woman was sitting around a couple of days after giving birth and said, "well that's interesting, my breasts are HUGE and there's a milky fluid leaking out of these handy spout shaped thingys in the middle of them?"  What kind of mentally deficient people are they to have never heard of breast feeding? 

   I don't think the fact that they are Vegan had anything to do with the ultimate demise of their infant. In nature this is called culling the herd.  Why do I suddenly hear, "only the strongest will survive" in my head.  Does anyone else hear it? 

     Mark your calendars everyone...I'm sick.  It's been ages since I've been sick so I suppose I was long overdue and I believe this is my body's way of not so subtly telling me to slow down.  But why? Why do I have to fall ill during the week that I have at least one commitment or event scheduled each day?  Yesterday, true to my stubborn self, I got up and walked the kids to school and then attempted to complete my powerwalk.  Between the blistering heat we've been having and a humidity level that has dropped to 10% it felt like I was inhaling fire and exhaling sand.  I made it 20 minutes before my hubby, who knows me entirely too well, found me and made me get in the car so he could drive me home.  He was even kind enough not to give me the, "what the hell were you thinking?" lecture I'm sure was burning his tongue. 

    Ok, I wanted to type more, but I'm going to heed my body's warning and go to bed now.  Keep well everyone!  Oh, and I'm a vegetarian, so if you bring soup keep that in mind.  *Blowing air kisses so as not to infest you with my germs* 

Raven

     Just when I thought my mother couldn't get any crazier, well, she does.  Apparently, my mother's insanity knows no bounds, none at all!  Right after the Earth Day picnic we had some tough news, but I won't go into details.  So...spending all week waiting for an update from the family up in Nevada, the news finally came last night when my Aunt called my mother's house.  My mom answered and was taken aback, because she's crazy, when my Aunt asked to speak to my Dad.  My mother is relating this alleged story to me and attempting once again to play the injured party and making it all about how she has been cast out of the loop again, because she is crazy.  Being the good daughter I am I suggested that maybe my aunt asked to speak with my Dad BECAUSE HE IS HER BROTHER!  Hmmm?  Interesting theory, n'est ce pas?  This silences mother for a millisecond, because she's crazy, until she launches into the incessant whine about how her family has wronged her. AGAIN!

    FUUUUUCCKKKKKKKK WOMAN!!!  So how many times is that now, 785 MILLION? because she's crazy.  Then....as if that wasn't enough torture for my poor eardrums, she proceeds to tell me, while pretending to choke back tears, because she is crazy, that she has stopped paying all of the bills because she doesn't want to part with money in case her family decides to sell her house, or maybe it's because, SHE'S CRAZY!!!  Oh, forgot to mention that her family's trust owns the house she lives in, sorry about that.  Didn't mean to confuse anyone. 

    Mother's day is right around the corner.  I'm think this is the year we finally get mom that Dr. Kevorkian gift certificate she's asking for.  And oh how she is asking for it!!  Say it with me one more time, just for shits and giggles...BECAUSE SHE'S CRAZY!

    Ahhhhh....that feels better.  Thanks for listening.