tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23261379076261140532024-03-05T06:08:19.034-05:00MYSUESTORIESIt's Either Laugh, Cry Or Eat......And trust me, NO ONE wants to see my ugly cry upon my double chin.MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-18730538343395609172019-02-28T19:49:00.003-05:002019-02-28T19:50:46.101-05:00Harley Quinn Meets Norman BatesOkay.....so you, my constant reader, know how very rarely I share blog posts these days....too tired, too busy, too angry, too sad.......all right, let's just say it out loud....too lazy.....(you thought I was gonna say too drunk, didn't you? Well, dear reader, so did I..but alas, till the word is on the paper ----remember paper?-----If a word isn't in print, was it really shared?<br />
<br />
Okay...enough Socrates for now...On to the rant that moved me to rave tonight.......(no....not the millenium raves,,,nope,,, I specialize in the <i>ranting raves!</i><br />
<br />
So on the East Coast...cuz i'm all about that <b>East Coast </b>vs West Coast thang---did ya notice how I emboldened * <b>East Coast </b>and not West Coast? Subliminal messages, yo! (Ok ..the "yo" was not me...at least it didn't sound like me till I put it on paper (read: the internetz)..<br />
<br />
Any ways...sorry, I'm trying to lose that accent from what can only be from Planet Uranus...because there ain't a planet named Myanus yet...NASA? You may want to take note....just sayin.....It WOULD probably be named most remembered planet in the My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas......well...it used to be pizzas but now that Pluto has been exiled from the Planetary Solar System......Its just My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine....Which kind of leaves us hanging....Nine What? And for the record? My mother would never have just served us nine pizzas...Never. Not once. <br />
<br />
But of course if we change the name of our new solar system in which Myanus@ copyright mysustories 2/28/2019......replaces YOURanus...or simply Uranus.....blah blah blah...Then the new Very Educated Mother might read something like this:<br />
<br />
Most<br />
Villainous<br />
Evil<br />
Motor Cycle Bad Ass<br />
Just<br />
Stole<br />
My Norman.....<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So...if you know me at all, constant reader, who has obviously finished reading your Lucky Charms box already, tell me...Do you get the connection? Yet?<br />
<br />
Has my Joker scenario gone unnoticed?<br />
Would Harlequin romance novels allow this?<br />
<br />
<br />
****Spoiler Alert......*******\<br />
God! I just Love writing? typing? thinking? stars *********************or otherwise known as Control 8's...(could it be any less sexy?)<br />
Anyway tell me what YOUR answer would be to the My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas...quiz if you could not use Pluto/Pizzas...the poor lost planet:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Here is Mysuestories response: Can YOU figure it out?<br />
Most Villainous Evil<br />
Motorcycle Bad Ass<br />
Just<br />
Stole<br />
My<br />
Norman<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Answer key: SHE SAID YES!!!!!<br />
The Gamester (aka Joker) asked Harley Quinn (most villianous evil --but we love you KP!!!!) to marry him..AND SHE SAID YES!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
So basically? My good news is that Harley Quinn (please don't picture her as in Glass..thank you)...Harley Quinn Just stole my NORMAN from me!<br />
<br />
<br />
And I couldn't be happier that she turned my Norman in to the JOKER!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
Happiness and love to the newestories chapter.......(even though neither of them will probably ever read this..which is why I allow myself so much creative license! From the<br />
Gamester to the Joker!!!! God bless you and Harley QUINN!!!!!!! XOXOMYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-64645950721440993362019-01-26T21:20:00.001-05:002019-01-26T21:20:31.029-05:00Long Live the Printed Word-No This is NOT a Religious PostSo the Mountain Man and I were faced with the very, very, very worst thing that can happen to people over 40...okay, okay, maybe over 50....(Fine..Close friends....Screw you and your knowledge of our true ages....) possibly closer to 60 than 50...(Spoiler Alert: Only <b>one</b> of us is closer to sixty.....And it isn't me! )<br />
<br />
Any way... the time for change had come at mysuestories manor....We had broken out our dear old friend, lappy toppy, and the Mountain Man decided to book us a vacation to celebrate his, ahem...closer to sixty than fifty birthday.<br />
<br />
Days of crawling the internetz.. Vicious, shall I say discussions occurred on the place of celebration. Finally, it was decided (and may I just add...<b>NOT BY ME)</b>...on a destination.....<br />
<br />
So, travel agents were engaged...arrangements were put in place......payments were, well, paid. And that's all I have to say about that (Jenai!)...<br />
<br />
The moment of truth arrived and the Mountain Man said, "Hey, mysuestories" (cuz that's what he calls me.. really, I swear....I consider it a title....like Queen Elizabeth probably answers to "Queenie" in the comfort of her HUGE castle..... I answer to <i>my title</i>. Which should probably be "MYSUESTORIES; Queen of all of the land in which we inhabit"....<br />
<br />
Okay...so back to our moment of truth......the Mountain Man says (please forgive me dear reader, but my life is nothing if not repetitious: Wash. Rinse. Repeat.) "Hey, mysuestories, print out the receipts and itinerary for the vacation site that I asked you to pick and then ignored your numerous choices to". Well, at least that's what I heard.<br />
<br />
So being the good little wifey (and the most computer-abled body in our household ---hey, Mountain Man, you may pick the destination, but there will be consequences....firstly..that I out your technological skillz to all of our friends, family, and the entire mysuestories reading public ...Yep! All 3 of you!) So, I hit the print button - so far so good- and then waited...and waited ...and waited for our printer to produce something....Something, that is, other than exorbitant ink replacement charges and fees.<br />
<br />
<br />
Well, turns out good old Petey the Printer was on his last leg...which was weird, because anyone with a printer should know they don't have appendages... But if our printer did have lifelike qualities? Well let's just say it was time to visit Dr. Kervorkian...<br />
<br />
Now, I know it was a rather sudden, painless(I hope) demise..but mysuestories manor was now in a predicament...Just how long does one wait until you replace a beloved technological family member?<br />
Turns out? Two weeks of hand feeding paper to rollers that will not, for lack of a better phrase -suck the paper in and print nothing- is the appropriate printer mourning time in our household......(Lappy top- you should take note....just sayin')<br />
<br />
So we went to the Replace Your Dear Old Printer store (read: Cosco---what can I say? It was a great deal...or was it?) and brought home our BIGGEST fear.... A new technological device.......<br />
<br />
Be still my heart...<br />
<br />
Like our parents before us with a new (gasp) VCR that will never ever read a time other than the blinking 12:00.....(eventually? they put black tape over the numerals..I thought they were Cave people, but never actually fixed it for them.....(sorry, our father who art not in Heaven) We forged forward with dreaded fear of having to disconnect one wireless printer and hook up another.....___<br />
<br />
Side bar, please....if it's all wireless, why did we have to connect it to lappy and the household internetz with...well, wires?<br />
<br />
Two hours and many snarky remarks later by both the Mountain Man <i>and</i> mysuestories... and the moment of truth arrived. We downloaded, we synced, we even tried to speak to a printer professional by of all things: tech support on line......<b>That </b>was not so successful as I couldn't figure out how to actually answer the hopefully automated tech's questions because I, mysuestories, am a technological dinosaur.....Yes...that's me...the newly discovered Sue-Rex... which in my youth could have been mislabeled (I dare say) as Sue's Wrecked...<br />
<br />
But I digress....Again...You know..the whole repetition thing....<br />
<br />
Any who....eventually..after hours of telling the Mountain Man how much I ...let's just say....cannot stand things that begin with the letters: Internet and Wireless and any other new technological change...<br />
Eventually? I hit Print...and guess what? IT ACTUALLY PRINTED....Go Figure..<br />
<br />
We, the pre-historically disabled Mountain Man and his well matched mate...ME (mysuestories) were actually able to disconnect old Petey and purchase, connect, and print something from Lappy <i>and...</i>wait for it...<i>and</i> print something from my phone...Did you, constant reader even know that could be done? Me neither.<br />
<br />
So, in light of our new interntz savviness..(?) We are withdrawing out application to take in a foreign exchange student from a more technologically advanced country (why, no, I did not mention asian..Why do you ask?)<br />
<br />
Just as well. Now I have to go and cover up that little blue internetz symbol on the printer with black tape.. Hey...it's a family tradition, afterall.MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-67894535159495309352018-12-30T08:41:00.001-05:002018-12-30T08:41:31.333-05:00How To Make an Omelette Without Breaking An Egg<a href="http://mysuestories@blogspot.com"></a>So here at MYSUESTORIES manor I often wake up in the wee hours of the morning. Most often the reason is simply because it is the wee hours of the morning and I have the bladder of a 110 year old woman.<br />
I also suffer from OCD Insomnia....In layman's terms it simply means I have the urge to accomplish many things before the rest of the world wakes up...it's a thing...check it out in my soon to be written book under the working title What in the World Goes on in the Mind of MYSUESTORIES?<br />
<br />
Of course any plan of actually getting anything productive done goes right out the windows 10 the minute I fire up the old laptop. Thank you social media. But right up until that mesmerizing blue screen glow rises in the East, my intentions are as firm as a Kardashian' butt. And, I might therefore I will add: unlike the famous K-Butt, my, ahem, "intentions" are 100% organically home grown. Perhaps not as appealing to look upon as the infamous aforementioned K-Butt, but (two butts walk into a bar.......anybody? no? Just me? nevermind)......but I am darned proud of the sh!t I produce....<br />
some times.... Maybe a little more than some times. To be honest, my thoughts and musings can care the bee-jesus out of me quite often.....but does that stop me? Nope, Sorry family...This train just keeps on going.....kinda like, well, a runaway train....<br />
<br />
Again I digress. So I am up early, and being the loving, considerate wife that I am, I very qwietly slip out of the master bedour (read: the Love Nest with the waterfall trickling quietly bedside) to allow my precious Mountain Man to get his beauty sleep ......Let me note here that the aforementioned waterfall was not an architectural mastermind of mine, but rather due to a leaky roof that only appears to drip on any part of the bed I occupy.....<br />
<br />
Well, I'm up and hour or so now, and If there's one thing I like to do is eat (along with laugh and cry, of course!). However, unconducive to my love of eating , is my fear of cooking. Okay....It's not so much a fear as it is an aversion. Just ain't my thang....<br />
Lucky for me, my mountain man is a fantastic cook! Here comes the omelettes!<br />
<br />
Only one issue. The mountain man, as you may recall, is still snuggled amongst the quilts of his lair, snoozing away. And I would never put my own self-serving needs before his by waking him up just to feed my insatiable hunger for cholesterol and bacon......<br />
And then I remembered an old trick I used to use to get the kids out of bed by noon on a weekend.....<br />
<br />
I turned on the oven, popped in a tray of bacon....and let nature have it's olfactory way with the mountain man!<br />
<br />
Guess who just shuffled into the kitchen to start breakfast.......Your welcome.<br />
MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-19259809748157189382018-12-30T08:38:00.001-05:002018-12-30T08:38:07.208-05:00How To Make an Omelette Without Breaking An EggSo here at MYSUESTORIES manor I often wake up in the wee hours of the morning. Most often the reason is simply because it is the <i>wee</i> hours of the morning and I have the bladder of a 110 year old woman.<br />
I also suffer from OCD Insomnia....In layman's terms it simply means I have the urge to accomplish many things before the rest of the world wakes up...it's a thing...check it out in my soon to be written book under the working title <b> What in the World Goes on in the Mind of MYSUESTORIES?</b><br />
<br />
Of course any plan of actually getting anything productive done goes right out the windows 10 the minute I fire up the old laptop. Thank you social media. But right up until that mesmerizing blue screen glow rises in the East, my intentions are as firm as a Kardashian' butt. And, I might therefore I will add: unlike the famous K-Butt, my, ahem, "intentions" are 100% organically home grown. Perhaps not as appealing to look upon as the infamous aforementioned K-Butt, but (two butts walk into a bar.......anybody? no? Just me? nevermind)......but I am darned proud of the sh!t I produce....<br />
some times.... Maybe a little more than some times. To be honest, my thoughts and musings can care the bee-jesus out of me quite often.....but does that stop me? Nope, Sorry family...This train just keeps on going.....kinda like, well, a runaway train....<br />
<br />
Again I digress. So I am up early, and being the loving, considerate wife that I am, I <i>very qwietly</i> slip out of the master bedour (read: the Love Nest with the waterfall trickling quietly bedside) to allow my precious Mountain Man to get his beauty sleep ......Let me note here that the aforementioned waterfall was not an architectural mastermind of mine, but rather due to a leaky roof that only appears to drip on any part of the bed I occupy.....<br />
<br />
Well, I'm up and hour or so now, and If there's one thing I like to do is eat (along with laugh and cry, of course!). However, unconducive to my love of eating , is my fear of cooking. Okay....It's not so much a fear as it is an aversion. Just ain't my thang....<br />
Lucky for me, my mountain man is a fantastic cook! Here comes the omelettes!<br />
<br />
Only one issue. The mountain man, as you may recall, is still snuggled amongst the quilts of his lair, snoozing away. And I would <i>never</i> put my own self-serving needs before his by waking him up just to feed my insatiable hunger for cholesterol and bacon......<br />
And then I remembered an old trick I used to use to get the kids out of bed by noon on a weekend.....<br />
<br />
I turned on the oven, popped in a tray of bacon....and let nature have it's olfactory way with the mountain man!<br />
<br />
Guess who just shuffled into the kitchen to start breakfast.......Your welcome.<br />
<br />MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-32901594075896280852018-12-29T22:44:00.003-05:002018-12-29T22:44:22.511-05:00They Get Me! They Really Get Me!They Get Me! They Really Get Me!<br />
<br />
Just last week I posted in this little space of mine how the Mountain Man and I were going to take the Crap out of Crapmas! We were planning to give our kids experiences instead of gifts. What could be more coveted by twenty and thirty something year olds than a commitment to be forced to spend time with <i>us</i>!<br />
<br />
The Mountain Man and I stood firm and resisted the strong pull of the latest technology in phones and gaming and purchased the Experience of A Hot Air balloon ride for all!!!!!!!! Forget my very real fear of having my feet leave this earth in anything other than 1st Class (or business class, or ((shudder)) cattle section.........<br />
Apparently I am willing to sacrifice my sanity and the possibility of hurtling to my death from the inner stratusphere (is that a thing?_ Hell let's just call it creative license at this point.<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyway, apparently my kids are more than okay with the idea that if all goes as unplanned, this hot air balloon could be the last request I make.. <i><i>and they are all just peachy with it</i></i>. Can you feel the love tonight?<br />
<br />
Which is another way of saying Be Careful What You Wish For~<br />
<br />
On the other hand our oldest child/man/ manchild ....that last one sounded just a wee bit creepy......Anyhow, I digress....our oldest offspring, Smokey ("Only YOU can Prevent Forest Fires")--presented the Mountain Man and I with group tickets to attend a play ! Experiences! Not Gifts!<br />
I actually may have been wrong all these years about our little buggers......They <b>do</b> listen!!!! .<br />
<br />
<br />
Now I have to go through all my writings, memories, facebook posts, etc and make sure I didn't say anything unspeakable when I thought I was being ignored all these years!<br />
<br />
<br />
Like I said....Be Careful What You Wish ForMYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-41909405421782601352018-12-29T22:44:00.001-05:002018-12-29T22:44:22.185-05:00They Get Me! They Really Get Me!They Get Me! They Really Get Me!<br />
<br />
Just last week I posted in this little space of mine how the Mountain Man and I were going to take the Crap out of Crapmas! We were planning to give our kids experiences instead of gifts. What could be more coveted by twenty and thirty something year olds than a commitment to be forced to spend time with <i>us</i>!<br />
<br />
The Mountain Man and I stood firm and resisted the strong pull of the latest technology in phones and gaming and purchased the Experience of A Hot Air balloon ride for all!!!!!!!! Forget my very real fear of having my feet leave this earth in anything other than 1st Class (or business class, or ((shudder)) cattle section.........<br />
Apparently I am willing to sacrifice my sanity and the possibility of hurtling to my death from the inner stratusphere (is that a thing?_ Hell let's just call it creative license at this point.<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyway, apparently my kids are more than okay with the idea that if all goes as unplanned, this hot air balloon could be the last request I make.. <i><i>and they are all just peachy with it</i></i>. Can you feel the love tonight?<br />
<br />
Which is another way of saying Be Careful What You Wish For~<br />
<br />
On the other hand our oldest child/man/ manchild ....that last one sounded just a wee bit creepy......Anyhow, I digress....our oldest offspring, Smokey ("Only YOU can Prevent Forest Fires")--presented the Mountain Man and I with group tickets to attend a play ! Experiences! Not Gifts!<br />
I actually may have been wrong all these years about our little buggers......They <b>do</b> listen!!!! .<br />
<br />
<br />
Now I have to go through all my writings, memories, facebook posts, etc and make sure I didn't say anything unspeakable when I thought I was being ignored all these years!<br />
<br />
<br />
Like I said....Be Careful What You Wish ForMYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-47147988495338640522018-12-29T22:35:00.001-05:002018-12-29T22:41:12.944-05:00Oh My God! They Get Me! They Really Get ME!They Get Me! They Really Get Me!
Just last week I posted in this little space of mine how the Mountain Man and I were going to take the Crap out of Crapmas! We were planning to give our kids experiences instead of gifts. What could be more coveted by twenty and thirty something year olds than a commitment to be forced to spend time with <i>us</i>!
The Mountain Man and I stood firm and resisted the strong pull of the latest technology in phones and gaming and purchased the Experience of A Hot Air balloon ride for all!!!!!!!! Forget my very real fear of having my feet leave this earth in anything other than 1st Class (or business class, or ((shudder)) cattle section.........
Apparently I am willing to sacrifice my sanity and the possibility of hurtling to my death from the inner stratusphere (is that a thing?_ Hell let's just call it creative license at this point.
Anyway, apparently my kids are more than okay with the idea that if all goes as unplanned, this hot air balloon could be the last request I make.. <i><i>and they are all just peachy with it</i></i>. Can you feel the love tonight?
Which is another way of saying Be Careful What You Wish For~
On the other hand our oldest child/man/ manchild ....that last one sounded just a wee bit creepy......Anyhow, I digress....our oldest offspring, Smokey ("Only YOU can Prevent Forest Fires")--presented the Mountain Man and I with group tickets to attend a play ! Experiences! Not Gifts!
I actually may have been wrong all these years about our little buggers......They <b>do</b> listen!!!! .
Now I have to go through all my writings, memories, facebook posts, etc and make sure I didn't say anything unspeakable when I thought I was being ignored all these years!
Like I said....Be Careful What You Wish ForMYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-50375091888926572972018-12-24T15:55:00.001-05:002018-12-24T15:55:47.462-05:00MYSUESTORIES: The Ghost of Christmas PastAh, that Christmas spirit!<br /><br /><br /><em>***Note to our kids---This post involves your parents AND sex- --read at your own risk or risk stabbing your eyes out with a dull knife in an attempt to rid yourself of the images to follow :</em><br /><em></em><br />Who am I kidding? They don't even read this!<br /><br />It's time to stuff those stockings for the spawn of our loins, and quite frankly, what <em></em>do<em></em> you get for boys aged 13 to 22 that fits in an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">over sized</span> fur lined sock? Now, step daughters (when I had some) were easy- lipstick, nail polish, emery boards....the list was endless. Boys? Not so much.<br /><br />So I came back to what works best in our little clan....lottery tickets!!!!<br />I sprung my brilliant idea on the mountain man...<br /><br />"I can get each of them a stack of lottery scratch offs, they don't even have to be wrapped! <em></em>And<em></em> I can shop at that little smoke filled cigar/lotto store where the people look like they haven't moved from in front of that Quick Pick machine in years! <em></em>And<em></em> it's right next to the liquor store! I can do <strong></strong>our<strong></strong> shopping too! Win! Win!"<br /><br />"I don't know if lottery tickets is ideal for a thirteen year old, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mysuestories</span>", speaks the voice of Christmas Scrooge.<br /><br />"Why ever not?" After all, I grew up doing my home work in bingo halls and bowling alleys. By the age of six, we all knew you couldn't yell "BINGO" yourself, but had to discreetly whisper to Mom that "Hey, MOM!!!!!I HAVE BINGO!!!!!!!" -Have you ever even heard a six year old whisper? Not possible!<br />Anyway, why not indeed? I turned out just fine, didn't I? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hmmm</span>, maybe that's <em></em>not<em></em> the best selling point..<br /><br />"Mountain man, is it because (((shudder))) you have suddenly developed an inner moral compass and think lottery tickets could lead our cherub to a future life of gambling?" Acquiring a moral compass at this point in our marriage would not be a good thing for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">mysuestories</span>.<br /><br />"Hell, no, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">mysuestories</span>. It's not the gambling that bothers me. Can you imagine if he won millions of dollars? We'd never live it down. <strong></strong>And<strong></strong> we'd be at his mercy!!"<br /><br />It's true. The only thing that keeps the gamester in line is that he depends on us, you know, for food, for shelter, to feed his video game addiction. If <em></em>he<em></em> were the one with all the cash.....<br />***<br />The gamester: "Mom, I'm taking the limo to Disneyland. See ya next week. And if you can't get the new video system for me while I'm away, I can always buy a mom who can...."<br /><br />***<br /><br />Mountain man: "Gamester, that grass needs to be cut."<br />The gamester: "I know. Mom's doing it for me. She needed some extra cash for a new pair of shoes, so I hired her."<br /><br />***<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">mysuestories</span>: "Gamester, did you shovel out your room yet?"<br />Gamester: "It's covered. My new maid will be in on Tuesday. Oh, and there's a homework guy coming in on Monday to finish that book report...."<br /><br />***<br /><br />Oh, the horror that would be this household! I guess I'll just stuff his stocking with fireworks instead. Less mayhem that way!<br /><br /><br /><br /><em>Oh, and that parental sex scene you were waiting for, oh faithful reader? That's <strong>one</strong> way to get my kids not read a Christmas spoiler!!!!</em>MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-88991652642580138512018-12-20T18:41:00.004-05:002018-12-20T18:41:57.640-05:00Visions of Sugarplums....Okay, so it's that <i>Most Wonderful Time of the Year</i>. It's December 20, 2018. Christmas is 5 days away. I haven't bought a single present for my family. Not one.
I used to shop for my kids and "husband du jour" for months! Making lists.....Checking them two/three...okay, eighteen
times (can anyone say OCD?)....I bought, I hid, I wrapped. I even had the kids wrap their own gifts after the proverbial Elf fell off the shelf and it was clear that no magical old guy with reindeer was going to pay off my Mastercard. Of course, the kids didn't know they were wrapping their own gifts and I never let them peek in the boxes! I have some sense of Christmas respectability here.
So, me, mysuestories, who has shown nothing but the utmost admiration for the Gods of Merchandising is not shopping this year. Cold turkey....
God hide the credit cards and keep the wine flowing......I WILL NOT SHOP FOR PRESENTS. I WILL NOT SHOP FOR PRESENTS! I WIll not shop.....
Geez, this is gonna be a rough week to follow me, oh dear constant reader....I'll understand if you switch over to the Omnipresent Idol of Christmas Present.. Amazon Prime....right now....
No? So you're still with me here? Good to know.
So this year at the Mountain Man's behest (or perhaps his beheading..I'll have to get back to you on that one!)...we have decided to gift our children with the gift of US! That's right. We have managed to figure out the last thing they would rather do is spend time with us!
So, in honor of this knowledge, we have decided to gift the kids we so dearly adore with ,,,wait for it.....
SPENDING TIME WITH US!!!!
Of course we have to wrap up the double-cross-my heart and hope to die- secret inside of something to make them show up to spend their time with us!
So Mountain Man had the perfect idea. We are taking them all Hot Air Ballooning! That's right. Me, with my fear of heights....does anyone remember the shady carnival ride "Master of Upside Down Doom".....put together in twenty un-OSHA approved minutes by a scary, hairy guy of questionable hygiene ? No, just me? All righty then...
Moving on...
So the Mountain Man and I will be gathering up our most precious (and remaining) children and embark on a HOT AIR BALLOON ride
that simply may be the Ghost of Christmas Last for our dear family.
What could possibly go wrong? Other than us floating higher into the atmosphere than anything without wings was not meant to go? Or worse, NOT floating higher, but hurtling to the ground from unwieldy heights?
Could go either way.
Ahh...who am I kidding? With all my hot air, I'm pretty sure we could navigate the globe. And my unsuspecting offspring? Well, wouldn't it be nice to have their undivided attention for 80 days or so?
Merry Christmas to me!
MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-60421979379939343572018-12-12T20:44:00.002-05:002018-12-12T21:19:53.942-05:00Hello, my friend, hello....<a href="http://MYSUESTORIES: hello, my firend hello"></a><a href="http://"></a><a href="http://MYSUESTORIES">It's been a very long time since I have attempted to occupy this space. I have no idea, or expectation of anyone ever reading this little space of mine. Or what used to be mine. A lot has happened in the life of this little blogger. And on that note.. I am going to continue this little blog revisit under the assumption that this will be for my eyes only. Not that I am barring anyone from reading along..Just that I cannot guarantee this will generate the laughter from the audience I once played to on this sweet little instrumental laptop.
,
You have been forewarned...follow if you dare.....
So...I miss being funny on these internet pages.... I liked the gratification of likes and comments and emojis and thumbs up from the people I love ....and to be honest? the strangers who commented were the biggest rush since, well, that first live concert I ever saw, called RUSH, of course....that, dear friend, is a story for another day.
I miss writing for the public (All five of you!) but mostly I just miss writing. At all. I want to write. I can write. I can write things people (all five of you) may laugh at , or better yet...send an emoji or the HOLY GRAIL....a comment.........ECSTASY! (the feeling, not the drug!)
So, constant reader, you have stuck with me this far tonite....You have earned (or suffered through my intro) the right to know why. Why I have lost my mojo?
Why can't I write amusing little musings? (Apparently I still retain my play on words)
My life has been forever changed....(which of us hasn't had an earth shattering moment in the last five years?)
Any way.. I am going to try to continue this soul cleansing story and hopefully in the process I can find my funny bone,,,, or if not, hey,,,it's a free show here... so if you have come this far, maybe you will be willing to go a little farther...
I look forward to seeing you in my next post......Or as I think it should be called...The Cleansing of MY Soul....... MYSUESTORIES........
Tune in again, my dear readers(?)
I look forward to seeing you again. I hope you feel the same.
</a>MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-48533019527179932452014-12-31T22:13:00.001-05:002014-12-31T22:13:42.278-05:00MYSUESTORIES: Baby You Can Drive My Car<a href="http://www.mysuestories.blogspot.com/2008/10/baby-you-can-drive-my-car.html">MYSUESTORIES: Baby You Can Drive My Car</a>MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-29505927380394034202014-06-06T22:22:00.000-04:002018-12-23T15:03:26.902-05:00Which Came First? The Chicken Wire or The Garden?So, I ask you, constant reader, (or as constant as you could possibly be, considering the fact that I post almost as often as Tom Cruise puts out a good movie).....Once again, I digress..... So I ask you constant reader.......Why is the cheap, 16 inch high, wire fencing designed to protect the average man's garden called "CHICKEN WIRE"? Especially when we come home to find a chicken (okay....not a random chicken in a major city, but one of our neighbor's chickens) ....(Why, yes, yes, we do have neighbors with chickens.....why do you ask?)....
Anyway, We, (the Mountain Man and I), come home to find a chicken trapped in our garden.....dining on our seedlings and pre-pubescent plants...INSIDE THE CHICKEN WIRE PERIMETER! HELLO? What good is it to have a CHICKEN WIRE perimeter if the chickens can permeate it?
Wait, it gets better....(I think...depending on if you side with the Mountain Man or the Chicken).....And so the Mountain Man storms out to our anti-chicken enclosed garden to rid us of the beast...... (sorry, survivalist readers, there was no gun: hand held or otherwise involved) ......Any how, And so my knight in shining armor (dirty khaki shorts, truth be told, and an ink pen stain on his new shirt) storms the pest-proof garden....Which, by the way? Cornered chickens do NOT take well to grown (ok, questionable) but let's go with grown men...chasing them.....the poor chicken couldn't find its way out, nor could the Mountain Man catch the wild beast! (my hero, you say? Meh, maybe not so much!)...
End result? Chicken scared to death managed to hop over protective garden fencing (Read: CHICKEN WIRE)...which is how the little f@cker entered the garden in the first place!
Lesson to be learned? Chicken Wire does not necessarily mean it can keep out chickens (But? Unintended side effect? It CAN raise the blood pressure of a certain Mountain Man!) And another side-effect? Mysuestories is kept in stitches!<strike></strike>
Chickens? You are safe on Hallowed MYSUESTORIES land!MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-24287774006492361942014-05-23T22:48:00.003-04:002014-05-24T10:37:07.979-04:00Hail And OatsNote to self: When setting up mouse traps to nail the little m@ther-fracking moles who are making Swiss cheese out of the backyard with all their intricate underground tunnels? One should remember to put the peanut butter (and oats----did you know moles like oats, constant reader? Well, neither did I...but apparently they do.........I can't imagine where they find oats on their own....perhaps there is a 24 hour Wild By N@ture knockoff convenience store run by moles who work 18 hour shifts and sleep in the back of said store)...Anyway, I digress...AGAIN...imagine that.....
Anyway........one (and when I say "one", I mean mysuestories)...one should put the peanut butter and oats on the snap traps BEFORE you set the device. Just saying........
Having those little traps snapping all over the kitchen as ONE attempts to bait them.....peanut butter flying and oats falling like little stones of hail (ok, ok, so they were very quiet little oat flakes...give me a little leeway here....) ....Where was I? Oh, right ...peanut butter and huge oat meteors everywhere....... This COULD quite possibly be hilarious! (trust me on this one...It WAS hilarious).....Then again? I think we all know I have a pretty low tolerance for humor! I have (and will again) laugh at just about everything!
Mysuestories 0
Moles 1
Sigh.....<strike><strike></strike></strike>MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-53108223440236817872014-05-22T21:42:00.003-04:002014-06-04T20:53:43.407-04:00this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's partSomeone HAS to ask the question, so I guess it will have to be mysuestories.......reputation be d@mned! Why the h#ll do college dorm room beds have to be "extra long twin" sized? (Which, by the way? Only adds an additional 4.7 inches to a "standard" twin sized bed)......Why, yes, dear reader, I DID research, AND measure....thank you for asking!
The dorm room is the ONLY place you will ever have (and therefore need to special order proper fitting sheets) the extra long twin size bed......
I am thinking it is all about getting you to spend an additional $60. per sheet set that only comes in sets of TWO!!!!!!! (IE: $120!).....Which? Coincidentally? Can be conveniently ordered from the college store in advance....Two complete sheet sets/4 pillow cases/ 1 reversible extra long twin comforter/ mattress cover /thermal blanket/2 pillows/ 4 towels/4 wash cloths/ and 2 bath sheets....all in your (read: the gamester's) choice of patterns. (We are now conveniently up to $220 (plus tax (but wait...There is FREE SHIPPING).All this, so that one helicopter mom (without a landing pad, ie: mysuestories ) can sleep well knowing that her college-bound child ....the same one who does NOT KNOW what stationery is..(see previous post!)....will not be sleeping short-sheeted....
...(And? To be perfectly honest? We ALL know the gamester ( and most other college bound young men) Will NEVER use that second set of extra long twin sized sheets--only sold in sets of two-
because most colleges frown upon doting mothers arriving on campus every other week to change their bed sheets! (Not to mention the frowns/scowls/eye-rolling/and otherwise unhappy facial features of the actual son/child/student..when mommy lands on the college heliport bi-weekly!)
Again? Need I mention? This IS the same child/man-child/about to be living on his own-college bound son...that refuses to adjust (or pick up off the trash -laden floor of his current bedroom) the 800 thread count fitted sheets I have previously procured for his NOT AN EXTRA LONG TWIN SIZED BED! The self-proclaimed top sheet? (Again sent in sets of two!) May as well be used for lettering on fraternity flags........
And assuming he DOES actually change these interchangeable/otherwise useless sheets occasionally ? What the heck am I supposed to do with them after he graduates ...Ok...so I am assuming a LOT right now!?
Do I just suck it up big time and order an extra long twin sized bed that just may go in what we now call the "previous bedrooms of the children we adore and love", yet hope they never, ever, have to move back into?
Assuming, of course, that all future house-guests (that does NOT mean YOU, current children!!!) will be single (re: twin size), and of lengthy stature (ok, that rules out you, Burke!)
I am hereby calling all fans/mysuestories fanatics(all two of you)/and other rebels of the internetz...WE THE PEOPLE DEMAND NORMAL SIZE BEDDING FOR OUR OFF SPRING THAT WE ENTRUST TO YOUR CARE!!!! Either that, or they ..meaning the big-buck sucking college----should include the cost of extra long twin bedding as just one more addition to the already really, really long list of things included in tuition costs (besides actual education! )
In the slightly adapted words of John Belushi..."Who's with me?!!!!"
t? Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Otter: Germans?
Boon: Forget it. He's rolling.
Bluto: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough . . . the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go! C'mon! [He runs out of the room screaming but then returns.]
Bluto: What the fuck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh?! This could be the greatest night of our lives, but you're gonna let it be the worst! "Ooh, we're afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble." Well, JUST KISS MY ASS FROM NOW ON!!! Not me! I'm not gonna take this! Wormer, he's a dead man! Marmalard, DEAD! Niedermeyer—
Otter: Dead! Bluto's right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. [Otter stands up.] We gotta take these bastards. Now, we could fight 'em with conventional weapons. That could take years and cost millions of lives. Oh no. No, in this case, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part......<a href="http:"></a>
Bluto: And we're just the guys to do it.
[Boon and D-Day stand.]
Boon: Let's do it.
Bluto: Let's do it!
[Everybody cheers and starts running out of the room, with Bluto still standing there.]
Bluto: Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-9027027204628263452014-05-17T22:33:00.000-04:002014-05-17T22:38:26.463-04:00Steve Jobs, You Are Killing Us....Ironically? Post-humously!So the gamester has chosen a college for fall, (and, yes constant reader, it is far, far away!) and we are going over the list of necessities he will need for dorm life that the school had so courteously sent us.......After "extra-long sheets" and before "shower sandals", on the list is "stamps, envelopes, and stationery".......To which my soon to be high school graduated son turns to me and says, (AND I SH!T YOU NOT)...he says, "Stationery? What is that?"
Thank you, technology, for erasing the art of letter writing.........
And can someone please tell Webster that the word stationery can now be replaced by lol in the next dictionary edition?MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-51214331237474602292013-07-06T20:01:00.000-04:002013-07-06T20:18:49.502-04:00Skinny Margaritas, Anyone?So, here at mysuestories manor, I have been lucky enough to find myself self-employed, and happily getting paid to do things I really enjoy doing......Without getting in to too much detail....(which, you, constant reader, know I am incapable of doing!).......I get paid A LOT of money ----(Yes, that's right...I just posted on the internet that I get paid A LOT of money.....It's okay, faithful follower....I also pay A LOT of taxes on said earnings---hey, I am nothing, if not law abiding) to perform various duties for some VERY generous clients.. ....
(and no, mountain man, I am NOT pimping myself out...Although I suspect the pay (AND the taxes ) might be quite a bit higher)......
What I DO perform are some daily duties that my clients (again, my VERY generous clients) would rather not do themselves.........And again, dear reader, because I DO know my audience, minds out of the gutter......
Anyway, one such chore (haha) I <strike> get over paid for </strike> perform...is that I send one particular client off to work each morning with a plastic water bottle filled with freshly squeezed lemon water, with a healthy dose of carb fighting supplement added to it.
So, on this particular morning, I notice that said client had not drank her veggie juice for lunch the previous day (said drink consisting of kale, beets, carrots, sweet potato, etc....hey, I don't drink them, I just make them!)...So I added the previous day's juice to her lunch bag. I also noticed a plastic water bottle still sitting in the fridge. Apparently? She didn't drink her water the previous day either......Ok...Easy morning for mysuestories.... I added the carb fighting supplement to the container and packed it in with her lunch.....
Fast forward four hours.........I get a phone call from above mentioned client....she was having her lunch (ok, she was having a juice drink... which in some circles constitutes lunch)...and she had just taken a swig (or maybe it was a gulp) from the plastic water bottle that SHOULD have contained lemon water and carb fighters.....Turns out? That plastic water bottle in the fridge? was filled with margaritas from her husband's concert-going nite the previous evening.....
That's right....I sent a highly respected professional to work with a pitcher of margaritas! Oops.......Hey, at least I added the carb fighter supplement.....That should make them skinny margaritas, no? If you are gonna drink alcohol at work, at least work on the fat-fighting while you are doing it......
This is probably why they never ask me to cook with wine...or sherry, or vodka.....sigh
MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-34453731078767926092013-05-29T21:25:00.000-04:002013-05-29T21:25:03.711-04:00You Can't Work It If You Ain't Got ItI'm at the gym (which, yeah, is a miracle in of itself - and if Jesus could turn water into wine, you would think he could make a chocolate bar that makes you lose weight- I mean, Jesus, Jesus! No wonder you're losing throngs to the virgins-in-the-afterlife group!)<br /><br />Back to mysuestories at the gym... So, I'm at the gym, and I am constantly awed by these, um, <em></em>super<em></em> people. If you have ever made the decision to torture yourself at a health club, I'm sure you've seen them, too. On the outside, they look like your average, every day, fellow human (except that they're usually 40 lbs underweight if female- 60 pounds of muscle overweight if male)--- but put them in their natural habitat; IE: the fitness center- and they stand out like a Jersey Housewife in a dollar store.<br /><br />That's right...I'm talking about super-workout girl. You know her. She's rocking the cute little matching yoga pants and tankini top that cost more than my entire membership for a year. Or maybe you've met her man, Mr. I Lift Things Up and Put Them Down- the guy with the sixty inch neck supporting one head and the two inch steroid atrophied <strike>penis</strike> --nevermind--- you<br /><em></em>know<em></em> who I'm talking about!<br /><br />It's bad enough that I have to drag myself to the d@mned gym in the first place, in my ratty sweat pants and stained tee shirt (Which? Brand new was a <strong></strong>great<strong></strong> maternity outfit only 20 years ago!--I'm thrifty, peeps, not poor.....or at least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it).<br /><br />I jump on a treadmill in a line of soldier-like treadmills lined up thisclose together, facing nothing but the lower level of the gym and six flat screen TVs that seem to air nothing but CNN - and yeah, I like my news, but how much Wolf can one person possibly take for the love of God- so there's not a whole lot of entertainment....(that is-- if you're not including me trying to walk on a moving surface-- now that? <strong></strong>That's<strong></strong> entertainment).<br /><br />So I people watch. For forty five grueling boring minutes (ooh, and don't forget the mandatory five minute slow down!) I watch. I watch Gym Rat Girl and Juice Boy. I take little not-so- sly peeks at your speed and your time and definitely your weight on your workout screen. (and, you-know-I-know that you took ten pounds off your weight- That's okay...I took off 20- easiest weight I ever lost).<br />But do you know what the most amazing part of my treatment for potato chip and onion dip addiction is? While I am on that treadmill burning away all those late night bon bons and cookie dough ice cream sundaes? It's that these children of the gym, these work out aficiondos....these <em></em>hamsters<em></em> whose little rat legs were just made for running in one place---they are <em></em>talking<em></em> while they are working out.<br /><br />I know. Astonishing, isn't it? They are talking. On a phone. To each other. To themselves. To <em></em><strong></strong>their<strong></strong><em></em> gym equipment.<br /><br />I don't know <strong></strong>how<strong></strong> they do it. I can barely walk on the d@mned treadmill without tangling my feet- and that's while holding on to the side bars for dear life. But not them. They answer calls, send texts, maybe even they're having sext....and hooray for them if they are....But do they have to do it while exercising? Jeez....I can barely <strong></strong>breathe<strong></strong> and walk..I mean, here <em></em>I<em></em> am, sweating like a whore in church on Sunday, and they are not even missing a beat of whatever little phone app they're playing with.<br /><br /><br />Although, after months of studying and watching (okay, okay, constant reader-) after <strong></strong>days<strong></strong> of studying and watching (Blogging with Integrity-yeah yeah yeah)....I took a page from the guy who yells at his treadmill as if it's a new recruit in <strong></strong>this man's army!!!<strong></strong><br /><br />I find myself silently encouraging my own treadmill along....urging it to go faster (the time clock, NOT the speed!), come on, baby, just ten more minutes...you can do it, you big hunk of steel....just make that little clock tick faster, faster, you can do it, little treadmill, just skip a few minutes on the old clock there.. faster, faster....<br /><br />Yeah. And then I realized. I was trying to talk the treadmill into finishing prematurely. Like a 16 year old boy in the back seat of a 1966 mustard colored Chevy Nova on Band Night at the OBI South----<br /><br />Really, mysuestories? Taking advantage of fitness equipment? Is this what our love of cheese has done to us?<br /><br />I felt so dirty. And to make it worse? He didn't finish any sooner than any other time his clock was set for 45 minutes. In fact? I think the cool down was shorter than normal.<br /><br />Sigh. I guess it wasn't good for him either.<br /><br />Maybe tomorrow I'll come on to the stationary bicycles. <em></em>That<em></em> should make 'em sweat!<br /><br />What's that, constant reader? Why yes, I <em></em>did<em></em> own a 1966 mustard colored Chevy Nova. Why do you ask?MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-11619921531733395532013-05-26T22:33:00.001-04:002013-05-26T22:35:24.920-04:00If You've Seen One SUV, You've Seen Them AllOkay, as Father's Day is soon approaching, I am reminded of a specific event that has defined my image of my Dad <em>forever. </em>Forget the late night feedings, years of parental guidance, and all that cash I must have sucked up from his future retirement fund throughout my childhood.....<br />
<br />
THIS is the memory that has over-come all others in the history of mysuestories and her dad...(yes...dear reader, I <em>am</em> speaking of myself in the third person again. Deal with it).<br />
<br />
Many moons ago (read: one spouse ago), my then-husband and I had my dad and kids in the car. What we were doing and why escapes me.......Yes, I am mysuestories, and I am getting too old to remember details......<br />
<br />
Anyway, at some point, my dad decided he wanted to stop at the local supermarket for something (see above comment for lack of details as to what he wanted to purchase). We pull into the local market parking lot, and Dad says he will just run into the store by himself (rather than disconnect two kids from car seats who will then want him to buy them everything in the forbidden snack aisle). A wise choice...probably the <em>last</em> wise choice made that day!<br />
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We are sitting in our average, non-descript, black SUV (pay attention...these details will be important later, I promise) with the kids.....waiting for Dad, a.k.a. Pop Pop, to emerge from the market.<br />
<br />
Finally, ten minutes later, I see my dad emerge from the store. Great. Let's get the kids and him home already.....(Patience has never been my strong suit...Surprised much, constant reader?) Anyway, I am watching my dad leave the store and head in the general direction of our SUV. All is good, no?<br />
<br />
Apparently? NO. I watch in horror as my dad begins to approach a similar average, non-descript, SUV.......He is carrying his purchases (again, no idea what said purchase is)....and smiling and almost skipping to the car.<br />
<br />
At this point? I realize something is amiss......He is heading to the wrong car. He reaches <em>the </em>other vehicle....goes around to the passenger back seat door (which, to his credit, is where he was sitting in <em>our</em> vehicle).....<br />
<br />
Now, it is important to note here, that there is a woman sitting in the driver's seat of this similar but oh so not our vehicle...completely oblivious to what is about to happen.......<br />
<br />
I attempt to roll down my car window to shout, oh, I don't know, maybe "Hey, Dad, THAT IS NOT OUR CAR"? but I find myself hysterically laughing and in tears of probably joy for the blog post material that is unfolding before my eyes....I am unable to get the window down .....<br />
<br />
At this point, my smiling dad opens the (Of course) unlocked back passenger door and hops in the car. As I watch, (yes still laughing AND crying. .hey , nobody ever said call mysuestories to prevent a disaster)...the woman in the driver's seat turns to see that her new passenger is <em>not</em> the person she is waiting to emerge from the market.<br />
<br />
She screams (Ok, we really couldn't hear this....my window is still closed, and so were hers, but <strong>trust me on this</strong>...) She screams......My dad? He then screams as well........<br />
<br />
He hops out of the car as if it were on fire! And noticing OUR car just a few spots over (with one daughter in tears in the front seat!) dashes to <em>our </em>car and hops in!!!!!<br />
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I, to this day, have no idea what that poor woman must have thought....But me? I thought that was the funniest thing I have ever seen!<br />
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MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-8964898381941637412013-05-16T15:40:00.001-04:002013-05-16T15:46:11.388-04:00A Dummies Guide To A Smart PhoneOK, so I finally joined the twenty-first century and got myself an smartphone. ( ok, ok, so, <i>I</i> didn't actually buy it for myself...it was a very generous gift from a very generous client who apparently knows I don't know how to abuse his data package...)
Anyway, so I am three months into this phone, and with the help of The Gamester (aka - my youngest son, aka -my 21st century informational highway tutor)..... I have got the basics down...I can text, I can make calls, save data, shop, and check my facebook status <i>way more often than I need to</i> ! ( I didn't say I <i>actually</i> do all these things, just that I can!)
So, just the other day, I notice that no one seemed to be responding to my text messages. I even sent the same texts several times, wondering why I was being ignored. (It is important to note here that the afore-mentioned texts were NOT being sent to my children, so the fact that I was being technologically ignored was particularly note-worthy!)
I went through my smartphone's text history on Wednesday evening and realized I HAD NOT RECEIVED A TEXT IN FOUR DAYS! I immediately pulled out my 17th century Verizon Samsung <i>with</i> the slide-out bar ('cuz that's how I roll!) and texted my 21st century smartphone. (Why, yes, yes, I <i>do</i> keep both phones on at all times....doesn't everyone keep their old '76 Chevy Nova on the road after they finally get the BMW?) Anyway, so the trusty old Samsung dials up (slowly, of course) the flashy new smartphone.....It rings.......so far, so good.......Samsung then attempts to text The Flash.....nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch...
I attempt to go through the settings features of The Flash. Everything looks fine to me. Then again, anything short of a screen that says "INCOMING TEXTS AE NOT WORKING BECAUSE YOU FORGOT TO CLICK YOUR HEELS TOGETHER TWICE WHILE SPINNING COUNTER-CLOCKWISE AND REPEATING A HAIL MARY" ...would not enlighten me in the least when it comes to this new phone.
So I set off for the MECCA of modern technology.....The Verizon Customer Service Department. I approach the service desk, injured phone held in my hands as if it were a bird who had try to fly a wee bit too early..
"What's the matter, mysuestories?" questions the young techie who barely looked old enough to shave.....( and, no, he didn't actually know my name...after all this <i>was</i> a high-tech store, and I? I am just a lowly servant of all matters modern.....)
"My smartphone, Oh Great One......It simply will not receive any texts.....I've tried everything (read...I switched phone off and then back on again)..and it just won't work!" I replied.
<strike></strike>
Now don't misunderstand me...I may not be geek-level smart, but I <i>can</i> perform simple techy functions.....I can post statuses, use video on demand....I can even use my dvd player....(Ok, Ok, Trisha...with a little help!), but here I was completely out of my element....
My facial-hairless support tech takes the smartphone from me and after asking my phone number (which I <i>did</i> know)<strike></strike>...he attempts to send me a text. It doesn't work, and I am relieved. At least I don't look like a total idiot. I have secretly been vindicated.
FOR ONE MOMENT.
Next my techhie takes my smartphone and REMOVES THE BACK PLATE. At this point, my heart starts to race and I am breaking into a nerve-wracking sweat.
Is this guy crazy? You <i>never</i> take modern things apart! Everyone knows that! (Especially everyone born before the 1970's!) This was not going to end well, I feared.
Mr. Tear My Dear New SmartPhone Apart then <i>(gasp)</i> REMOVES THE BATTERY! Crap! Now I am now hyper-ventilating in the middle of the phone store!
My Not Old Enough To Shave Yet Techhie proceeds to replace the battery immediately, much to my pulse rate's desire! Pshew.....That was close. Now what? I wonder...
After having replaced my SmartPhone's heart (ie. battery), my Geek of the moment proceeds to turn the phone on. The lights flash, a little beep signals that the re-transplantation of said battery has been a success, and I visibly breathe easier.
He then tries to send another text to my Smartphone, which makes no sense to me, as he hasn't even DONE anything yet, besides make me lose years off my life...
And guess what?
The text goes right through, complete with little chirpy alert sound! I am mystified, and apparently he notices this by my slack-jawed expression...
"Everyone knows you should always just reinsert the battery as a first-line-of-defense check if any mishap appears to occur," he tells me matter-of-factly.
Of course....except? I NEVER GOT THAT MEMO. It must have been texted to me.....Sigh<strike><strike></strike></strike>MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-13814873876171630642013-05-13T22:08:00.001-04:002013-05-13T22:09:30.496-04:00A Mother's Day Without Children....Is Still a Mother's Day!Okay....So, I have FINALLY achieved the <i>mother</i> of all Mother's Day Gifts! All of my off-spring were otherwise engaged today (ie: work, schooling, parole-enforced guidance...) So, I, as a Mom, finally achieved what all Moms have been seeking since Eve fell for Adam's apple.....I was sans kids all day!
When the youngans were young...(ie..toddlers...) my perfect mother's day was a day of tanning, pedicures, and manicures........Yep, that's right....a day without kids......What else could a mom of needy little blood suckers ( I mean loving children) ever want? Now? Okay.....the youngans are not quite so young......Still, the blood-letting continues.......
But today? Today I found myself without youngans not so young...by the influence of their schedules, not mine (ie: work schedules, parole obligations, etc..) ....and let me tell you...woo hoo..I have achieved the ultimate Mom status....Hi, I am mysuestories, and I am childless for Mother's Day!!!!!Okay, Okay, so I am still waiting up for the youngest to get home from his skateboarding escapades....but still, for a few hours there, I was free........
The ultimate Mom experience? Is apparently to be without children......Who knew?MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-26193229955624315722013-05-10T22:09:00.002-04:002013-05-10T22:23:36.920-04:00Mother's Day Post..Do I Look Fat in These Stripes?<br />
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Okay, so Mother's Day is approaching, and I am still reveling in a gift I received from my firebug (ie: my eldest child) a few years back......I, constant follower of my blog, am an avid reader......There are weeks when I can plow through three or four books in a weekend.........I would visit the local library and grab five or six books (just in case I didn't like one or two past the jacket contents)...and read them through....<br />
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Well, this most thoughtful child of mine purchased a Kindle for me for Mother's Day....I was elated.....however, I was also wary......I LIKE books...I like turning the pages...the smell of the paper.....the occasional spider crawling out (ok, maybe not so much).......But, you know me....I refuse to let anything go to waste....So after a few weeks, I decided it was time to make friends with this electronic book reader...embrace the technology......<br />
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Easier said than done! <br />
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The Kindle is great! Until I realized they want you to pay for the books you download! And yes, you can get daily deals on specific books for as little as 99 cents...but still.....the library only charged me when I returned my books late...(ok, ok, I am a BAD borrower...)<br />
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Then I learned that you can download books for FREE from the library through e-live brary.....(Yes, I AM cheap...sorry....I don't know where that comes from...it certainly doesn't carry over to my shoe purchases!)<br />
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So now I use my library card and am able to download books (did I mention for FREE?) to my kindle via my laptop.......It's not so hard, although I did have to spend two 30 minute sessions (for FREE) with a library tech geek volunteer to figure it out....<br />
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Only thing is? It's a bit time consuming to down load the books, so I tend to download four or five at a time.....Only, you don't get thirty days with these e-books, like with regular paper (ugh) or hard cover books...You only get the download for 7 days....<br />
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Well, apparently I have a life and am busy, and I can't read all those books I worked so hard to download in only 7 days.....<br />
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Well.....guess what? I realized recently that as long as I don't connect my Kindle to wifi, those books do NOT disappear in 7 days! So now? I am keeping my Kindle charged and not connecting to wifi to HIDE my books from the library police!<br />
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Yes.....hi, I am Mysuestories, and apparently? I am a criminal....<br />
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Can't wait to see what I get this Mother's Day....Maybe handcuffs? Or a Striped jumpsuit? Please, kids......just a nice breakfast would be fine.....MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-8454242243472198582013-05-09T21:54:00.001-04:002013-05-09T21:59:15.045-04:00The Working ChildOkay...so the 16 year old has taken my (ill advised?) advice and found himself a job......Yes, that's right.......My kid......HIS job... Well, guess what..... now I have to be slave to his uniforms being washed and pressed (okay, he could care less about the cleanliness and starch status of his clothes....but still....my OCD demands it be done!) And now I find myself running around his schedule...making sure I can get him to work , simply to have to wait around to pick him up four hours later....... Frankly? It would be easier to just give him the $30 some odd bucks and tell him to stay the heck home some days!<br />
Not to mention the $135. I am already in debt for the new black sneakers/black pants/white shirt I had to buy before he worked a single day......add gas and mileage...this job is killing me! <br />
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Crap. So what is the current cost of trying to raise a cost conscious child in this economy? F#ck if I know...All I know is I am exhausted.......The 16 year old has more money AND video games than he knows what to do with!!!!! and I am spending a fortune in gas and expenses to keep this kid in petty cash!.....<br />
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And lucky me....I have a child who is willing and able to work for his own keep (albeit the keep is keeping him in all the current video games!)<br />
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Sigh....MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-43219396134448598072013-05-05T22:04:00.001-04:002013-05-05T22:39:23.531-04:00Hope at last<strike><b><b></b></b></strike>Okay, dear readers (it was nine at last count)...I have recovered well from my job loss (aka...laid off status after 22 yrs) of two years ago...I have delved into an endeavor of self employment in a field which I have always enjoyed......and you know what? I have never been so happy or so financially secure than I am right now.....so screw big corporate....reach for your dreams....you have nothing to lose........and by the way.....local followers? Long Island... I am looking for a few good women (or men) to join my growing and prospering company.....anyone interested in learning how to start their own company or join mine...please contact me at toom233@msn.com or through the comments section....there IS hope for all!!!MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-53972316720911706372011-10-15T21:47:00.000-04:002011-10-15T21:47:35.703-04:00MYSUESTORIES: Show Me The Funny!<a href="http://mysuestories.blogspot.com/2011/10/show-me-funny.html#links">MYSUESTORIES: Show Me The Funny!</a>MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2326137907626114053.post-1904813985022284792011-10-15T20:50:00.007-04:002011-10-15T21:38:14.725-04:00Show Me The Funny!Okay, okay. So I've been missing from this little space of mine for quite some time.......In the fast moving blogosphere, abscence for months can be a form of cosmic suicide......Not my intention, but some times? Suicide takes (on) a life (or blog) of its' own...<br /><br />Okay...back story... you are entitled to that, oh dear, and faithful reader..... <br /><br /> I, mysuestories, queen of all that is important.....the most irreplacable, all omnipresent woman to have graced this earth: I have been cast aside from my "family"..... That's right....they who have purported to love, nurture, and support me through the years have turned a very cold shoulder to me......They have exiled me from those I was closest to, severed all bonds (and stocks, too!!!), and more importantly, cut me off financially.....all this, and with not so much as a reason, other than "this is unpleasant for all of us".....<br /><br />Yeah, well, a little more unpleasant for ONE of us, I assure you.....<br /><br />And, no, before my dear father thinks that my hubby and kids have given me the boot, and I am about to show up on his door step with my belongings shouting "I'm hommmme...." ala Jack Nicholson in The Shining.......I am NOT divorcing, seperating, or being shunned ala the Amish..... (ok, Dad, I get the leap.....it's not like it hasn't happened before.....---although to date? I have yet to be shunned.......but the day is still young....)<br /><br />Nope....None of the above...I, mysuestories, have been canned from a job I have held (<strong></strong>HAD<strong></strong> held?) for over 20 years......Pink slipped...let go....tossed aside....kicked to the curb......or, my all time favorite.........."laid off due to down sizing"----- meaning exactly what? Had I been laid ON the sizing of the down would have occurred in a different position ( get it? laid...down.....position.....?- Yea, I know...it's been a while since I posted...I'm working out a few writer's kinks here....)<br /><br />Anyway...so here I am....mysuestories, master of.......well, this little blog here, and quite frankly, you nine (ok, ok,....seven) followers are the only audience I've got......(besides one tired-of listening-to-me-hubby, and 3 kids who ignore me whenever possible----and a couple of really good friends (okay...ONE) One really good friend who is getting really tired of listening to me....(psst----friend? my phone number hasn't changed...just saying...)<br /><br />Anyway, I am just putting this out there...do you twelve (ok, ok.....nine......what?....fine.....seven) followers care to continue the exploits of mysuestories in her new position as a stay at home mom? Granted, a stay at home mom for a family that is not home all day...(not a BAD gig if you can get it!!!!!)<br /><br />Follow me through my new trials (not COURT trials...I hope.) But come along as I traverse this new world of no where to be at 6 am, no 2 hour daily commute in lousy weather, no kids that want me unoccupied enough to wonder what the f@*k they're doing all day, no hubby that needs me spending $$$ all day long, oh...and the vodka......Jeez....every day is Friday.......Yes......Join me in the search for my new niche.......Obamanomics? I don't know about that.....but since I've been laid off? Ive learned a little about the stock market.....right now? Invest in Three Olives...........That's all I Got to say about that......MYSUESTORIEShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16716640263579647772noreply@blogger.com0