Happy Halloween!

Good friends and cold shoulders

Last night we went, with another family, to the Fall Carnival at Blaine's school . Good family fun. Lots of games and prizes and chaos. The kids had a blast, especially going through the box maze.

After saying our Hellos to a few of the parent volunteers, Maude nudged me and said "What did you do?"...commenting on the rather cold reception I was getting. So I told her the story that I hadn't yet blogged about...

Last week, I got a call from the *Fall Carnival Chairperson. She wanted me to work in the Prize Redemption Room, which after last year, I vowed never to do again. It was a nightmare...The conversation went something like this:

RING-RING!!
ME: Hello?

*FCC(Talks in a Barbie/Stepford/Kindergarten teacher voice): Hi! This is FCC, are you ready for the carnival? We have you down in the prize room, just like last year!!

ME: Oh, hi FCC, I didn't sign up to do the carnival this year...we have plans.

FCC: I saw that you didn't sign up, I just assumed you had not checked that box by mistake.

ME: No mistake, we have plans.

FCC: Will you be GOING to the carnival?

ME: Yes, with friends.

FCC: Its Blaine's LAST YEAR....don't you want to help?!

ME: I do OTHER THINGS...Besides, like I said, we have plans.

FCC: Well! You could've notified someone.

ME: I thought thats what I did....when I didn't sign up for it at the beginning of the year.

FCC: But we are counting on you.

ME: I've already made a commitment to go out with friends that we haven't seen in a while.

FCC: Fine. We'll find someone who can help us out, someone without such a busy schedule.

ME: I can help set up, if you like....or I can cut the photo cards.

FCC: Well, all we really need is someone for the prize room, so that really doesn't help us out, now does it?

ME: I'm really sorry, but like I said...

FCC: Yes. Plans. I. Heard. You.

ME: Let me know if/CLICK/DEAD AIR
ME:(looking at reciever...)YOU BITCH!

I couldn't believe it. I was stunned. Not only was she a bitch, but she hung up on me! The nerve. She thinks that because she chairs an event every year, that her shit doesn't stink. I work my ass off for that school and the PTA. I'm at school three days a week...working for Blaine's teacher, the music teacher and the Title I teacher...I also work the bookfairs, the vision/hearing screenings, I'm a runner for classes on picture day, I put up the welcome billboard (with every student's name!) every year BEFORE school even starts...And I didn't see her dumb ass stuck with a zillion fifth graders at Islandwood for four whole fucking days like I was! And about that....There was a kid(her kid)who got busted (by me) for carving "****** was here" on the finely carved doorjam in the Treehouse at Islandwood....Should I tell everyone what a rotten little shit you raised?!...I never said a word to anyone, even though I could have.

I digress....
Anyway, back at the carnival...getting hostile looks(I wonder what she told them?), I ignore them and decide to go to the gym and play some games with Blaine and her friend Edwin.

After about an eternity of ring toss, putt-putt, spinning wheels, free throws and cake walks, the kids tell us they are ready to leave..."Its hot in here. The little kids are annoying, and its too crowded(the kids after my heart)."

If you ask me, we couldn't have left soon enough. It was hot, loud and smelled like a wet diaper. I really needed a glass of wine. Good thing we went with Maude and Mike....they do not frown on heavy drinking.

We went to a mexican restuarant. We let the kids have a table to themselves. The grown-ups sat in a booth. Maude and I ordered the same thing...margarita, on the rocks, no salt, top shelf....EXTRA large. A few minutes later, they brought two ginormous drinks that looked like goldfish bowls with stems. 32 ounces! Good thing we live within walking distance!

I'm pretty sure we had fun.

The last thing I remember was laughing at Mike's impression of FCC walking around the carnival with a stick up her ass.....

Um..Hello, Kettle. This is Pot....

Will someone please tell me why when Scooter Libby lies about leaking the name of a CIA agent its a ...technicality.

I understand Bill Clinton's lie. He's a man. A married man. Who was trying to save his skin.

There is a HUGE difference between lies about some cum on a dress, some gifts to a bimbo, and what you did with a cigar...and lies about what you and your boss maliciously did to hurt a guy who openly disagreed with the war.

Even the mafia has more class than to pick on a guy's wife, for fuck sake.

House Cleaning

I did a little rearranging....I think things look better this way. Now you can see all my buttons and my blogroll without too much scrolling. Better? I'm toying with the thought of a template change...any suggestions? It has to be FREE.

FFF-Fill My Script Edition

*Freedom Girl does a little dance...then gets back to work.

*New at WalMart! Prussian Blue!

If they weren't bad enough for giving money to Tom(is an ass)...2 DAYS after he was indicted...

there is now another reason to hate WalMart. I have a sneaking suspicion that AnonymousCoworker may be right.


*stated merely for dramatic effect...I don't think you can get the CDs of the Little Nazi Girls at WalMart. Geez! You people will believe anything...But I still think WalMart is evil.

"The only tired I was, was tired of giving in..."

Her quiet act of defiance on December 1, 1955, and her subsequent arrest helped charge the Civil Rights Movement....




Thanks, Rosa.

Full Frontal Friday-P2P Edition

I told you

She is the enemy.

Updated Blogroll!!

Go visit the newbies!

Elephant

Just got done watching Elephant.....

Wow.

Absolutely chilling.

food snobbery

TJ from Zazzafooky made her first meatloaf!

Her post remimded me of what a sheltered life I've lived, when it comes to food. My mother is a gourmet. She always said that we didn't eat fancy, just well.

I had never even tasted meatloaf until I moved out....a boyfriend's mother made it. I called my mom and told her about it....comparing the rustic meal I had eaten to a roulade.

One of my fondest memories is having escargo for the first time when I was eight...the sweet aroma and the absolute decadence of dipping bread into the garlic/herb infused puddle of butter at the bottom of the shell, still makes my mouth water.

When I was ten, I not only knew what arugula and endive were, but knew the difference.

I didn't experience Twinkies until I smoked pot for the first time at twenty-two. I still remember thinking...




"A beignet would be SO much better."

Snarky, you've done it again.

So far, the best post on Miers

FFF- Addiction Edition

*I dress this way just to keep them at bay, cuz' Halloween is EVERYDAY!...OR...Bob Dee Bob-bop

Well, its late this year, but she's finally come up with an idea for a costume. Blaine is going to be Lizzie Borden!

Wicked.

Yesterday, we went to some thrift stores and got items for the costume. A cream colored blouse with a high collar and ruffles, and a long black skirt. And a toy fireman's axe. We'll put her hair in a bun and splatter her with the half quart of fake blood left over from last year's zombie prom queen outfit.

She has enlisted her dad to go out with her and her friends....as a prop. He will be covered with 41 "whacks" and lots of blood, to further depict her character.

Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks
When she saw what she had done
She gave her father forty-one

While at the thrift store, she found some clothes(black of course) that she could bring home and embellish with studs and safety pins.

I had to look pretty hard on SoulSeek to find one of the anthems of my youth, so that she could hear it...but was finally successful. She liked it.

"Now I know what to tell people who think I'm weird....I usually tell them - You laugh at me cuz I'm different, I pity you...cuz you're all the same."

Yeah. Thats my kid. Pretty cool, huh?


*Ministry-Everyday is Halloween

Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force*...OR...Grab life by the oviducts

Ha!

*The Distance- Cake

I'm being watched By the Evil Eye*

Yet another manifestation of the Evil Stupidity that is WalMart.

Hat tip to The Disgruntled Chemist.

*Evil Eye-Joe Jackson

Happy Indigenous People's Day!!

For Mom and Grandpa

There are many ways we interpret events: dates, times, demographics, statistics....Using these tools, we can get a general idea of what a particular period of time was like. Many times, however, this way of "seeing" neglects the humanity behind the circumstances.

Statistics do not have faces, names, identities. It is easy to dismiss the fact that real people, or in the case of Indian Boarding Schools, REAL CHILDREN, make up the substrate of these statistics.

My grandfather was one of those children. He went to The Sherman Indian Boarding School.

His long beautiful braids were cut. He was forbidden to speak his language or to sing native songs. He was not allowed to wear traditional dress or footwear, not even for ceremony. He was punished for drawing on a doll, decorating it in native style with a piece of coal, for his sister. He and his sister were not allowed to attend the funeral of their father who died of tuberculosis.

The Names of Sherman Project hopes to add dimension to this history. By listing the actual names, home towns and tribes of students, the project attempts to recover the "humanness" lost in the hundreds of rosters, numbers and statistics. The names represent real children who came from real homes, real families, with real hopes, dreams and identities.

Those children just happened to live in a time when people in positions of power believed the best solution to a changing American culture was to gather them together into military boarding schools, to change them, Americanize them, "civilize" them, train them to become citizens within the culture in power....to essentially erase all traces of their ancestry.

It seems that our countries leaders chose to ignore one thing: these children ALREADY HAD A CULTURE.

My Grandfather's name was Arthur Wesley Weddell.

He was a Wintu from Shasta County, Ca. He died on July 4th, 1943, at a sanatorium in Weimar, Ca from tuberculosis. He was buried in a numbered grave with no marker.

yeah you don't love me like I love you*

Well, thats what I get for shootin' off my mouth....or fingers in this case. I thought I was some pretty hot shit when I was bragging about my new Marsupial status, until today when I noticed that I had dropped back to being a lowly Rodent. And not just a small drop. I went from 2492 to 4282! Talk about a backsliding! All I can say is...shit. Rat shit, that is.

*Haze of Love-by Cake

Freedom Girl needs a Sugar Daddy!

My Mom told me once..."It doesn't hurt to ask."

FFF--Friends Edition

Rar!

Good News and Bad News

First, the good news... I have moved up in the food chain!
I noticed this morning that I am now a Marauding Marsupial (#2492)in .TTLB ecosystem. Yesterday I was merely an adorable rodent.

Some disturbing news...I have found out that I am a blog plaigarist. I found a blog almost 2 years older than mine with THE SAME NAME. Not a similar name. Exactly the same. I was devestated. And all this time, I thought it was original and witty. I am deflated. Should I change it? No. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I will just have to live with myself....my blog plagiarizing self.

Nevermind, indeed

I told you so.

One, two, buckle my shoe

I knew it was coming. They said it would be here. I guess I wasn't paying attention. I was caught off guard, unprepared.
Autumn in the Pacific Northwest.
Its raining. And it will probably continue to rain until Thanksgiving.
I have to find my shoes. Where the fuck are my shoes?
I haven't worn more than bare feet or sandals since April.
So, today, goodbye to shoeless feet, in haiku form....

Fearing damp and cold
Little hobbit toes retreat
Inside until Spring

Now, where the hell is my rain jacket?