Who am I?

For lack of a better topic, I decided that if people are reading my blog, they should have some idea of who I am. So, I found this random list of "get to know you" questions and thought "What the hell?" 

Here goes nothing. 

Diane Franklin

Which celebrity do you get mistaken for? Diane Franklin. Not so much now, but this was a biggie in the 80's. A friend saw her in Better off Dead and came running to me in school the next day, saying how I just had to see this movie because of this girl. It escalated from there!  


What do you want to be when you grow up? ...PETER PAN!

Is a picture worth a thousand words? Elaborate. Dude, really? A picture seems to be worth a thousand memes.

 Where’s Waldo?  Under the bed. 

The best part of waking up is? Going back to sleep. 

How now brown cow? When you figure it out, let me know? 

If you were a tree (or animal) what kind of tree (animal) would you be? No tree for me. I don't think I could stand to be rooted to one spot. I'd be a cat. Small enough to get into pretty much anything, spoiled rotten and still independent. I'd be one of those smart, toilet trained cats, though. Screw the whole litter box thing!

If you were a Star Trek® [or Star Wars® ] character, which one would it be? Deanna Troi. It's an empathy thing.

What is your favorite color? I like Earthy colors. Burgundy wine, forest Green and deep blues and browns.

You are invited to a large cocktail party at a country club. When you arrive, the room where the party is being held is already over half full of people. How do they react to you when you enter the room? Usually, not much. I get the "Who the hell is that?" looks. A few "FRESH MEAT" looks (those guys are usually so drunk they'd take Rosanne Barr home.) But it's mostly "Meh".

Why are manhole covers round? Because cutting perfect corners is too much of a pain in the ass?

What is your favorite drink? Tequila Sunrise!

What would I find in your refrigerator right now? Condiments. Seriously.

What is the last book you read? Musings of a Twenty Something Mom and the perils of Being a Mommy Blogger. If you haven't read it, DO IT! Jenn is Hilarious!

If you could trade places with any other person for a week, famous or not famous, living or dead, real or fictional. with whom would it be? I'd change places with Joseph Kony. In that week I'd change all of his tactics, call an end to the kidnappings and attacks, and just before time to switch back, I'd turn myself in!

What was the last movie you went to see? Resident Evil: Retribution. That was my birthday present from the Hub. I have a weakness for the R.E. movies.  

How would you explain a database in three sentences to your eight-year-old nephew? "A database is a place inside your computer that stores a whole bunch of information about one thing." Will one sentence do?

If aliens landed in front of you and, in exchange for anything you desire, offered you any position on their planet, what would you want? Well, duh. I'd be their Human adviser. As in, info on all thing Human.  Might as well stick to what you know, right?

If you could be any character in fiction, whom would you be? Sookie Stackhouse. Don't laugh. She's got it all. Mind reading, hot men chasing her, her own house and money money money.

If Hollywood made a movie about your life, whom would you like to see play the lead role as you?  Winona Ryder. She can pull off morose. Lol.

If you could be a superhero, what would you want your superpowers to be? I wouldn't say super hero, but I know what I'd like my power to be. I'd like to be able to touch any picture and have whatever is in the picture appear in front of me. Shopping would be so much easier!

If someone wrote a biography about you, what do you think the title should be? What NOT to do.

If you were a salad, what kind of dressing would you be? Blue Cheese. I'm an acquired taste!

If you were a car, what kind would you be? I know what I'd like to be, but, in all actuality, I'd probably be a mini van. One with busted shocks and stains all over the interior.

If you were written about in the newspaper, on the front page, what would the headline say? Local woman get's trapped on escalator during power failure.

What kind of people do you dislike? Those with no sense of humor, closed minds, and zealots.

What makes you angry?  PAIN. And affronts to my children.

What part of pop culture do you wish would just go away? Jersey Shore.

What is your favorite salty snack? Wasabi nuts.

What was your most embarrassing hair style? Everything my mother did to my hair in grade school!

What is the furthest west you have traveled? New Mexico.

What is the funniest thing you have heard a child say? In Wal-Mart with a friend, dressed in SCA garb.
Kid "Mommy, why is that man wearing a dress?"

Mom "It's not a dress, honey. It's a kilt."
Kid "(pauses) But, who'd he kilt?"

What exotic pet would you like to have? I want a Fisher Chameleon, a Savannah Monitor and a Capuchin Monkey.

What color underwear are you wearing? Black Hello Kitty.

What single piece of technology makes your life easier? The same one that makes it miserable. My Homicidal Cell Phone.

What do you miss from your childhood? Not having bills!

What is the saddest movie? For me, that's a draw between The Green Mile and What Dreams May Come.

Why were you given your name? Ha! Because EVERYONE in my family had to get their two cents in! But Stacie came from a drummer that my Mother had a crush on.

What is the longest you have been without sleeping? Eight very long days.

What company do you think has a bad name? UTI. Seriously? Why the hell would they name a school after a bladder infection??

What is the prettiest city you have ever been to? Memphis at five in the morning!

What makes you lose hope for humanity?  Stupidity. Can you believe some of the idiots that have survived? It's sad.

When was the last time you did volunteer work? Last weekend for Colton Palmer, the baby in need of a liver transplant. I donated and showed a rabbit kit to his live auction.

How do you prefer to get bad news? Just spill it.

How many email addresses do you use on a regular basis? Two. One for regular use and one for spam.

What restaurant do you love even though you know you shouldn't? Taco Bell!!!!!

What bill do you most dislike paying? The light bill. Those greedy bastards have found new and amazing ways to screw us over. Like charging us for accounts that aren't ours. I've never been to New York you dick faces! Stop charging me for it!

What is the best adaptation of a book to a movie? I'd have to say The Dark Half. They didn't cut too much at all. IT was really close.

What food makes you think of Christmas? Divinity. Don't ask why, it just does.

What food reminds you of your birthday? Lobster Ravioli! That was the best birthday dinner EVER!

What movie can you watch over and over again? Serenity. I'm a major Joss Whedon fan. I love that man!

What was the address of the house you grew up in? We moved around a lot. The only one I can remember is the one we lived in when I was about seven. 612 E Plum St, Angleton, TX I had a lot of good (and bad) memories in that house.

How old where you when you got your first computer? Twenty five. I built it.

What technology scares you?  AI. I can see the matrix happening for real. Or I Robot.

What poem do you have committed to memory?  Stopping by the Woods on a snowy Evening by Robert Frost and The Walrus and the Carpenter by Louis Carol.

What was your first car?  An AMC Spirit. I loved that car!

What is your favorite song from a Disney Movie?  You Can't Keep a Good Dog Down. All Dogs Go to Heaven.

When have you felt bad about losing your temper?  At an SCA event, after my daughter threw hot chocolate on me and I slapped her. :(

What do you think is beyond the stars? More stars.

Who is the meanest person you know?  My ex bossman, and...well. If you know me, you know the next answer.

Do you think "honesty is the best policy"? Why or why not? I do. If you lie to protect someone they'll be even more hurt when they find out the truth.

What would you do if you were invisible for a day? Commit several felonies. Seriously, let's be honest here. Not to mention the massive fun I'd have messing with people on the street.




When was the last time somebody hit you?  If you don't count last night's accidental smack to the head by the sleeping Hub, it would be 2005. Ex asshat, I mean, husband.

Who do you think you are most like in your family? My Dad. No doubt about it.

If you needed someone to act as a character reference for you who would you chose?  My best friends and my daughter, EriKa.

The BESTIES <3

What friend could you turn to in a time of need?  Incoming sap. My best friends, Spiv and Elizabeth. They've done so much for me that I don't like asking them for anything anymore. But there are no better people on this planet. They are the BEST!

In what way are you irrational? I let anxiety get the best of me. No matter what, I'm always expecting the absolute worst of any situation.

How important is it to you that you are on time?  Oh my God, this is a major OCD for me! I have to be on time or early. The Hub is usually late. This drives me out of my friggin mind!

How important is it to you that others are on time?  VERY. I hate to wait. If you say you're going to be somewhere at a certain time, you damn well better be there or have the best excuse for tardiness ever invented!

Who is a woman from history that you respect?  Joan of Arc. I may not share her views, but she went against the grain to follow and fight for what she believed in. Also Maya Angelou. She's a survivor.

What movie scares you? The Exorcist. That movie scares the pure piss out of me!

Here's something to keep you awake at night

What makes you feel old? Um...my age? Hearing my favorite songs as a kid being played on the classic rock station doesn't help!

Who taught you to swim?  Me. I was one of those natural swimmers. They tossed me in as a baby and I swam away.

What holiday has lost its true meaning? ALL OF THEM. They've all been changed over the centuries to suit the current popular religions.

What is something you have always wanted to try? Mountain climbing. The real deal, not just hiking in the mountains. But first and foremost, hiking the west coast trail! 

If you could hire out one household chore what would it be?  Cleaning out that nasty ass litter box.

What was your favorite bed time story as a child?  The Velveteen Rabbit. Which is why the Hub got me a real life velveteen for Valentines day! <3

What was your first pet? A cat. I was itty bitty and my mean ass neighbors drowned him in their well. Mean asses.

What is your favorite quote?  It's in a song Called Just Wait by The Blues Travelers. "There's no such thing as a failure who keeps trying. Coasting to the bottom is the only disgrace." 

If you were to write a novel what would it be about?  Been there, done that, and it's totally SciFi. So, I'm a nerd. Deal with it!

What was the last peaceful day you had?  What's that? I know not of this "peacefull day"  of which you speak. No, actually it was a camping trip to Brazos Bend with the Hub and the Besties.

If you could see any deceased musician perform who would you chose?  Again, this is a tie. Janis Joplin and/or John Lennon. The top of that list? My Dad.

What dish do you cook well?  Any and all homemade soups and enchiladas.

What junk food is your weakness?  Bucee's Beaver Nuggets!

What is your favorite shirt?  My Firefly shirt! Second favorite is my vintage unicorn tee.

What makes you feel safe?  The Hub.

When did you come close to death? Several times! I was over dosed on morphine in the e.r. in OKC. They had to revive me from that one. That was probably the scariest and most recent.

Who is your favorite Super Hero?  Tank Girl!

What do you have that is of great value to you but of no value to anyone else?  Sap warning. Anything and everything my kids ever made for me, and everything I inherited from my Dad.

If you could ask God a question what would it be?  "Who's right?"

What is your favorite way to get exercise? Bellydance, yoga and hiking.

What is your favorite song from a Broadway musical?  I'll Cover You-Reprise from Rent. Collins sings it at Angels funeral.

What time do you wake up in the morning?  Five. I tossed and turned for nearly two hours trying to get my back to let me go back to sleep.

What goals do you have for your children? To be HAPPY, above all other things. 

Tell me, again, they don't exist! 

What is your dream car? a 62.5 Mustang Prototype. It's ugly as sin, but I want one. I also want a 63.

What band would you camp out all night to get tickets to see?  Matchbox Twenty! DUH!

There's another scar on the other side.

What is the story behind one of your scars? OK, this is the best one. My right knee has two scars on it. When I was about five years old, my Daddy sent me across the yard to borrow sugar. It was already dark out, and I went barreling down the steps from our porch, without a care in the world. It was too dark for me to notice the chair at the bottom of the steps. It was one of those seventies, hard, curved back things. My knee connected with the top edge of the back of the chair. I was moving so fast that I sort of flipped over the chair. The problem was that the edge of the chair was sharp, had cut into my knee and flipped with me. A piece of the plastic broke off and wedged itself under my kneecap. My mother was in the hospital at the time, and Daddy didn't think we could afford another e.r. trip. So, he drags me into the bathroom, cleaned the wound and sewed it shut with a regular sewing needle and fishing line. This is what I get for having a Marine for a Daddy! What he didn't do was get the plastic out. It's still there, thirty five years later. He had to teach me to walk all over again. I can't remember if we ever got that sugar.

What do you dislike most about modern life? I hate how lazy it makes us. 

Would you be willing to live "off the grid"? Hell yes! That's a dream!

What summer camps did you go to as a child?  I don't remember going to any other summer camps beside Girl Scouts. I loved it!

In what ways are you a nerd? This is a laughable question. First, I believe in facts before guess work, or just believing because you want to, despite what the evidence says. I love Manga, Role Playing video games and LARP. Joss Whedon is my hero. I'm a comic book nut. I read. No, I don't read books, I devour them. I love science. This list could go on and on and on....

How do you think the world will end?  Let's be honest. I think man will kill the planet. That's what we do. We kill things.

Would you use pirated software?  BAHHHAAAHHAAAHHAAAAAA!

Would you download pirated music? See previous answer ^

What do you think makes a person good-looking? Their personality and sense of humor. I think a major hottie can get ugly once you get to know them, if they're cold blooded dickheads.

What does your signature say about you?  It says that my handwriting sucks.

What TV re-run do you sit down to watch whenever it is on? Criminal Minds.

Did you ever think you were adopted? YES! And, it turned out I was right!

Where is the scarcest place you have ever traveled to? There's a little cemetery outside of Nacagdoches. I can't remember the name of it. It's buried deep in the woods. That place is terrifying!

Serenity

What TV Show fires your imagination? FIREFLY

What food is too much work for you to eat?  Turkey legs. Too damn stringy.

What was the most rewarding travel experience that have you had?  The trip to Cozumel in 2005. That's where I met my Dad and brother for the first time.

When you have a sweet tooth what food do you crave? Cheesecake! Damn you, Brandy.

Do you believe in life on other planets? Of course I do. I think we're too presumptuous and vain to believe we're the only ones, and worse, the smartest ones.

What celebrity crush have you had? Rob Thomas, Viggo Mortenson, Paul Bettany, Alan Tudyk, Nathan Fillion and Seth Green. There are more ;)

Does your best friend call you their best friend?  yupyup!

What makes a good kisser? Someone who is considerate and feels the kiss.

What high brow cultural activity do you like to participate in?  I like going to museums. All of them.

What "red-neck" activity do you like to do?  Mud Races!

What technology do you wish you understood better?  HTML code

Okay, that's enough of that. For now. What were your answers?

Sibling rivalry

It's safe to say that I had a rather strange childhood. I have brothers and sisters out the wazoo. Between full, half, step and adopted, I had no shortage of sibling rivalry. No shortage of fights either. Some of them were really memorable!

Brandy

The fights between myself and Brandy were the most memorable. That girl was a born scrapper! We've busted each other upside the head with handcuffs, gut punched and kicked each other, stabbed each other and a whole wicked range of other forms of bodily harm pulled on each other. Yes, I did say stabbed. I'll get to that.  See, Daddy was the type who taught us to never start a fight. But, if one got started we'd damn well better finish it. So if a fight was started between us we were sent outside to duke it out to the point of exhaustion.  I remember one fight in particular, I think it was over the destruction of my mousetrap game, that went to blows. Daddy found out and sent us into the back yard to finish it. Most parents would have put an end to it. Not Daddy. Brandy and I, both still spitting nails from anger, march out into the yard and proceed to duke it out. Daddy said we couldn't stop until it was settled. After about an hour of trading punches to the gut we both ran inside and headed straight for the bathroom. We had hit each other so hard and so often in the stomach that we had made each other nauseous. Imagine that. So, there we were, two kids, one toilet. We took turns throwing up. Now THAT'S a fight!

Brandy got pissed at me for something or other one day and decided to chunk a pair of handcuffs at me. I dodged, which pissed her off even more. This was the day that I realized that I should fight with my legs, rather than my upper body. I was sitting in a chair and she charged me. When I saw her coming I raised both feet, planted them in her chest and launched her across the room. There was another time when I was on the phone and she wanted it. She pestered me non stop to hang up so she could call her friend. I kept telling her to leave me alone and wait her turn. Mother and Daddy were in their bedroom with the door shut, ignoring Brandy's constant complaints. I had my back to her with a fish scaling knife in my hand, just absent mindedly fiddling with it while I talked. When I got fed up with her bugging me I turned to fuss back, using the knife as a pointer, to emphasize my annoyance. What I didn't know was that she had decided to tackle me from behind. I turned around right as she would have made contact, holding the knife up at elbow level. She ran right into it. The tip of the knife went right into her tear duct. Of course I got in trouble. No one even paid any attention to the fact that she only got stabbed because she was trying to take a cheap shot that failed! Oi vey!

When I was first learning to ride a bike I was given a bike three times too big for me. This meant that I had to start off from the porch, just so that I could get up high enough to get on the bike. It also meant that I couldn't stop without just jumping off. Brandy got in my way one day, and when I swerved to miss her, she swerved too. She went in the exact same direction I was trying to go. Both of us aimed for the ditch, thinking that would be safe. Needless to say, I ran over her. Nearly six years later she got revenge. That girl held a grudge! Instead of running over me with a bike, she used a go-kart! She deliberately drove into the bushes, off of the track, to get me! MEAN!

Shannon

Brandy and I beat the shit out of each other on a regular basis, but our fights were nothing compared to our fights with our older sister, Shannon. Any time we were all left alone together it went to an all out, no holds barred, screaming, run for your life fest. That girl was MEAN! I've seen her knock Brandy to the floor, sit on her and try to BURN her hair off. She did the same to me, but she used scissors instead of a lighter. I've broken the bones in the palm of my hand trying to escape her wrath. She pushed me out of a two story window, twice!  I guess she wanted to see if I was cat like. I have a mole on my right shoulder blade. It stands out. Shannon used to pin me down and tell me that a spider had latched on to my back and would kill me if I didn't let her pick it off. She knew full well that spiders scare the shit out of me. When I said it hurt she would tell me that it was because it had it's fangs in so deep. O.O  Yeah. No trauma there.

Sean

My little brother pissed me off one morning. One Sunday morning. It had been raining, and our paper had already been delivered in it's plastic bag. It was the Sunday edition Houston Chronicle, which is very thick. Despite the bag, it had gotten wet. Sean, being a right git and major turd, grabbed the paper and swung it at me. He busted me upside the head with that wet, heavy news paper. I had a coffee mug filled with orange juice in my hand. HAD. I pegged him between the eyes with it. We were rotten little shits!

Over the years I've learned a valuable lesson. All of that fighting between my siblings and myself taught me how to defend myself, which has come in handy in a big, big way! I'm sure Brandy will remember a million other fights that I've forgotten. If she does, I encourage her to post them in the comments. HINT HINT, Brandy. Tell us your version!

Colton.

Before you read my post, please read my daughter's. She explains, in touching detail, Colton''s condition .

 I witnessed the most heartwarming thing I've ever seen, yesterday. In our community is a little boy who has some serious medical issues. His name is Colton and he's a bitty one. Colton has something called Biliary atresia, which basically means that his liver is in danger, his body can't absorb nutrients from food and he is at a high risk. Just as we were afraid would happen, baby Colton is now in need of a liver transplant. His friends and family arranged a benefit to help cover the high medical costs. His test results showed that his bilirubin levels had doubled, and he was scheduled for yet another surgery on September 13th. During that surgery they were to look for scar tissue from the last surgeries, to see if that may be causing a blockage. If not, then a liver transplant would be the next step. A liver transplant in a baby so small. It's scary! On September 21st we were told that Colton had been admitted to Texas Children's Hospital with an infection. Another frightening setback. Both his bilirubin and white sell counts were elevated. He was to see a liver specialist that morning, and fully expected him to be put on the transplant list. This is an edited update that we got later that same day:

" From what I understand he is basically not getting any nutrients from his food. His liver is absorbing all the nutrients and they are not going into the intestine to be used properly. His other organs rely on these nutrients to help him grow or become healthy. He is too skinny in his arms and legs which is an indication of being malnourished for lack of a better word. He is fed, he poops and he gains a little weight but his little body is not getting what it needs. His bilirubin count is at 6 which is very high and they will be using IV antibiotics to bring the count down. They are beginning an aggressive health program on him to help him become healthy and gain more weight. The do not want to do a liver transplant until he is deemed healthy. They will let him come home next week BUT they may send him home with a feeding tube. Regardless he will be home for his benefit even if they send him home for the day. The drs. , and there was a team of about 12, say he will have a liver transplant before he turns one. But he has to be healthy first. A lot can happen in 8 months."  Thankfully, Colton was allowed to come to his fundraiser! YAY! 

Yesterday was his fundraiser. It was held at Wild Peach Community Church, which had plenty of room...we thought! No one was expecting the turnout that we got. It was mind blowing! Most of us, around here, are broke folk. My husband and I wracked our brains trying to come up with an idea to help. We didn't have any money to donate, and it would take me too long to make anything fit for either the silent or the live auction. I was at a loss. Then it hit me! I has bunnies! My doe (Mocha) had a litter of kits three months ago. I had three kits at home that could very easily bring in at least a little something. All I had to do was make sure a live animal could be auctioned. As it turned out, there was a tortoise being auctioned too! Well, THAT worked out ;) That turtle went for $125 in the live auction! CRAZY! Anyway, we got there fairly early, and even then it was pretty obvious that parking was going to become a problem. Not that there was a teeny parking lot or anything. There was plenty of room, under normal circumstances. This was anything BUT normal! By one p.m. there were people hopelessly blocked in! It's a good thing there were TWO Officers directing traffic! 

Directing traffic

This was EARLY in the day. One of the 15 rows of cars!

Heavenly smell!

The smell hit me as soon as I got out of the car. Bar-BQue....smoky, delicious, mouthwatering BBQ. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. That smell was unbearable. I was so happy we already had our plate tickets! My daughter and granddaughter went straight for the food, of course! I saw three giant BBQ pits, right off the bat. I think there were actually four of them set up, right up front. That had to have been a strategic move. You know that smell was going to hit people before they ever made it to the building. Talk about a good way to promote food sales. LOL. 

Silent auction items

The hallway in the church made a horseshoe. Along every wall was a line of tables neatly arranged with goods, each good with a paper taped to the table in front of it. This was the silent auction. I was amazed at the number of items that had been donated. I mean, seriously, it took the entire horseshoe to hold them all! Every single item had a bid on it. It was a beautiful sight! All of those donations meant more money to help this precious baby get better! There were so many things that I would have loved to bid on. Especially the Harley Davidson thermos set. But, like I said, I is broke folk! 

I carried my Nilla (bunny) into the sanctuary to add to the other live auction items while everyone else in our group went straight for the food. That was another amazing site. There were still tons of items left to bring in, and yet, the room was already packed. It was so great to see. My little Nilla was added to the piles of hope. I could only imagine how she was going to freak out once the P.A. was turned on and Poppy (the pastor) started the auction. Turns out, I was right about that. Poor girl. 

Wandering around the church, we saw people really enjoying themselves for the sake of this beautiful baby boy. They set up a face painting booth for the little ones. My Sister-In-Law spent her day painting chubby cheeks and loving every minute of it! There was also a game room and craft booth. We took my grand-baby in and let her play the duck pond game and go fishing with a magnetic pole! Of course, the little snot scored big every time. I still think her favorite part of the day was plowing through her plate of food. It was mine too! We watched the people pay to have their friends and family thrown in "jail", then watched the "inmates" beg passersby to "bail" them out. It was AWESOME! There was plenty of good music, laughter, activities, camaraderie and best of all, COLTON! We were all so happy to see his smiling face there, enjoying his day with us. <3 

The Palmer family watch the magic happen from above the crowd.

The day was beginning to wind down. It was AUCTION TIME. Most everyone gathered in the sanctuary, chose a pew and started chatting. We could see Colton and his family watching from the window above us. They had a great view! I have never seen an auction like this one in my entire life. It was insane! Poppy was hilarious as an auctioneer. He kept us cracking up through it all. As for the items, I don't think anyone was thinking about cost at all! These items were all selling for hundreds of dollars! It was amazing! My daughter bought a bicycle for my grand-baby. A pretty one, too! My Nilla bean went for $60. I was right about her being scared. She clawed a deep scratch on my arm while I was carrying her around so that the crowd could see her. I'll miss my pretty baby, but, she did something wonderful and doesn't even know it.  

This was an amazing turn out, and they raised a good deal of money on Colton's behalf. However, if you've ever had so much as a sprained ankle, you know what a single medical bill can look like. Now, imagine what it must look like for the Palmer family. They can use every little bit of help that we can provide. The benefit may be over, but there are still ways of helping. An account has been set up for donations to Colton and his family at Lone Star bank. There are still people out there who are touched by this small life and want to help. If you are one of them, and I really hope you are, donations can be made to: 
Colton Palmer
LONE STAR BANK
P.O. BOX 8
Brazoria, Texas 77422
Just tell the bank that it's for Colton and they'll take care of the rest!  

Here's the thing. This little boy? He's a baby. He's also a survivor. He's strength where there should, by all rights, be weakness. He's hope in a hopeless situation. He's a bright shining light in a dark world. This poor little guy has been through more in his short little life than many of us will EVER go through. His parents and grandparents suffer the fear of "what will happen next?" on a daily basis, and still, they keep their faith. They hold their hope. This family, above all others, deserves the best. Am I surprised at yesterdays results? Yes and no. No, because of who they are, their attitudes, their steadfast belief that things will be just fine and because of that adorable little face that keeps them going. Colton is a lesson to us all. He is a baby and has the strength of a county behind him. We should all learn to be the people who other people want to be there for. Just like him. Before long, his medical issues will have been taken care of, and all that will be left is that brilliant smile that melts your heart and wakes your hope.

In the mean time. Donate. I did. 

Look at My Rash! Look at it, look, look, did you look? You didn't look. Look!

Yesterday was one of those dreaded doctor days. Now, with this particular Dr I'm usually not there for more than an hour. Two on a bad day. Yesterday was a nearly FOUR HOURS of wait time. Why do I hate this more than any other wait at any other office? Because of the level of freak that comes in to wait with me. Oh...my...GAWD! My appointment was at 7:00. I think this is a good thing. I think that I may be first in line. I think I must be ab idiot for thinking. I was third. Still, this is ok, right? Right? ...wroooong.

Patient number for was of the escaped lunatic variety. This guy looked like he ate crack for every meal and snacks in between. He comes in, targets me and comes to sit right next to me. This is a big ass room full of empty chairs, why me?? The second his ass hits the chair he started in on me. "I think I must have gotten a rash. Look. Do you see it? What do you think it is? Look at my rash. How did I get it? Can you see it? You're not looking. Look at my rash." Are you kidding me? Really? For one, you're in a doctors office. Show the doctor, not ME! For two, what the hell makes you think some random stranger wants to see your funky ass rash? Are you that much of an idiot? For three, if you're flirting, you're failing miserably. I suddenly found something so interesting out the window that the rest of the world ceased to exist. After about ten minutes of being ignored he gave up on me and moved on to the only other guy in the room. That poor guy.

AHHH AHHH AHHH CHOOO  PPPTHHHHH

Then comes the sneezer. I feel for the poor lady, but, seriously, use a tissue! Did she? Nooooooo. She sneezed in her hand and wiped it on her chair. When her chair was sufficiently slimed up she moved on to my chair. I moved. Quickly.

Now the room is getting full. The only remaining seats are in the back, past me. Directly past me. The pathway isn't all that narrow, but, it was too narrow for the three chair ass that walked in next. I'm so not kidding. This girl couldn't get by without bumping me with her butt cheek. As if that didn't suck bad enough, she wanted the chair next to me. I wish I could say that I was exaggerating when I say that the crack of her ass was the only thing that fit in the chair, but I'm not. She quite literally needed the three chairs behind me, but nooooo...she squeezed into the ONE right beside me. Then she proceeds to make three trips to the bathroom during the wait, all of which making me wonder when she was bringing in the forklift to help her up. This may sound mean, but right now I don't care. The only thing about her that was overweight was her ass.  I thought about moving again, but rash boy and the sneezer were back there.

Through it all I'm doing my best to remain invisible. The rash and another patient started talking, loudly, and I start wondering if I should just go ahead and kill myself. The rash was, as suspected, a junkie. He had come to the doctor hoping he could get drugs, and he wasn't shy about it. This moron was asking every single patient there if she prescribed narcotics and how hard it was to get them from her. Then he starts asking where the best pharmacy is and how much they cost. From there he moves on to HIS prices. He told everyone in the room how much he sold his meds for, per pill, and how fast he could unload them. Then came the litany of drugs he was currently on. As in, had taken just before coming to the doctor's office. If that wasn't stupid enough, he starts bragging about how many of the Houston pill mills he had been at when they were busted, and how he ended up on TV when Dateline busted one of them while he was there. I was out of there before the doctor saw him, but I'm really hoping he never made it out of the office. At least, not without a pretty new pair of bracelets. I doubt my doctor put up with him. She was in a foul mood.

As it turned out, she was late because she was scheduled to have surgery yesterday afternoon. So I'm surprised she came in at all.

There are always those weirdos in the waiting room, no matter who your doctor is. It's getting to the point that I want a Hazmat suit just for the wait. There's the random talker, the nose picker, the braggart, the twenty questions noob, the barely concealed anger man/woman, the sneezer, the cough-er, the junkie, the freak-show, the sit on you(er), and so on and so forth. Oh, let's not forget the unattended child. You know, the nosy one? The one who stays in your face, pick at your stuff, stares at you, kicks your chair, pesters non stop and just generally annoys. The one who, by all rights, shouldn't be unattended since it's parent is RIGHT FRIGGIN THERE, ignoring the kid.

What's the weirdest thing you've seen in your docs waiting room?

Annoying!

Very little in this world annoys me as badly as the sound of someone trying to suck the walls down his throat while he sleeps. Especially if that someone happens to be laying next to me. For nearly seven years I have thanked my lucky stars that the Hub was a silent sleeper. I've been down the date a snore-aholic rout and I didn't care for the scenery. Unless that scenery happened to be me shoving a giant anaconda down the loud mouthed gullet, or vice versa. Somewhere during this last year my lucky star burned out.

I don't know why. I don't know what changed. All I know is that my once silently sleeping Hub has suddenly started to sound like he's boiling water in the back of his throat. It started about eight months ago. As soon as I make the mistake of thinking that it's gonna be a silent night the gurgling starts.  Seriously??!! I mean, C-MON! He's hard enough to sleep next to. See, the Hub has always been a violent sleeper. I'm used to getting the shit kicked out of me all night long. I've been punched, elbowed, kneed, shoved out of bed, rolled over on top of and clawed every night for a long time. I'm almost used to it. I said almost.  I haven't quite reached the OK with getting my ass kicked on a nightly basis thing yet. I'm also not quite used to having to be grave still for fear of starting another bout of extreme sleeping championships. But, I'm getting there. Then...THIS happened. To make matters worse, in the last month he's added to whistle to the snore. He's getting louder, too. I might just be a widow before long, if this keeps up. I guess I should go ahead and get life insurance on him now. Hey, I could justify it. A jury full of housewives and I'm all good!

When I was six years old we went to Houston for my Grandpa's funeral. While we were there I got stuck sleeping in a room between my Uncle and Daddy. I say sleeping. What I mean by sleeping is desperately praying I'd suddenly go deaf. It was a lot like being lodged between a fog horn and an air raid siren...only louder. I think they literally cracked a wall. I think that might have been the night that I decided never to marry a snorer. Any time I've dated a person like that, I've honestly considered a breakup for no other reason than a peaceful nights sleep.   

The only time I've been okay with snoring was when it was my little brother making his trademark coffee percolator, half choke, half cackle ruckus. If he stopped snoring I couldn't sleep. There was good reason, though. My brother had Muscular Dystrophy. If he stopped snoring it meant there was a problem, so the sound of his trying to suck the stripes off the sheets was comforting. He got away with it. Lesson here? Unless you have a medical excuse for your snoring, a LIFE THREATENING excuse, your snoring will threaten your life.

 Actually, I will.
 Because of your snoring. 
I'm tired of being tired.

What else annoys the piss out of me? The complete and total annihilation of the English language. Seriously, people. If you grew up in America, with English as your first language, then this shouldn't be THIS much of a damn problem. Granted, our school system is lacking, but not THAT lacking.
 It's a glove compartment. COMpartment. Not DEpartment.
Please don't tell me to be more Pacific. I couldn't be more of an ocean if I tried with all my fuzzy little might. Unless I try in my dreams. Then, I might come close. I have been quite specific on this one, I think.
 No, you may NOT axe me a question. My life sucks, but, I want to live. If you ask me if you can, I might just have to axe you. I think I'd quite enjoy that.
What are you posed to do? I don't know. I didn't know we were supposed to vogue. You have fun with that.
Manilla  envelope. MANilla. Not VANILLA. 
And, please, for the love of all that's good and holy, don't tell me what people "be all like"! That nerves me to no end. "They be like that. They be all like.."  Dude, shut up. Just...shut up.
Oh, one of my favorites, doh! Who are you? Homer Simpson? "For real, doh." Again, shut it before I shove a doughnut in your uneducated head hole.
 Or, "You so silly!" "You so crazy" etc. You're, folks. You're! As in YOU frelling ARE! Ebonics is NOT a language!
 And the number one killer of my sanity...there is only ONE U in nuclear! It's not nucular. That is not a damned word. It's not! I promise! I'm fully prepared to launch a mushroom cloud at the next person I hear add too effing many U's.

I have this weird little pet peeve for tags sticking out of the backs of shirts. It's annoying, but, nothing to go nucular over. Cigarette butts in plates of food is, however.  So is dirty mop water, food in the sink, trash one foot away from the trash can, on the floor next to the can, overflowing trash cans, toilet paper and paper towels set down next to the holder instead of ON the damn thing, gangta rap, death metal, wind in my face, my own hair, spitters, rude people, yappy dogs, stupidity, unruly children...wait, this one deserves further exploration.

By unruly children, I do NOT mean kids whose parents are actually trying to control them. Nor do I mean toddlers or just past toddling age children who are going ballistic over something they want in the grocery store while an exasperated mom or dad struggles to maintain composure and not just throttle the little shit stain right then and there. I'm talking about those children who chose Dudley Dursley as a role model. Those little fucktards. The ones who have parents who should be sterilized immediately, before they have the chance to create more little monstrosities. These parents either give the little brats everything, absolutely EVERYTHING the little assholes scream that they want, or they spend so much time hiding from or tuning out their little beast because parenting them is "just too hard" that the brats have learned that they ARE God. Every little kid goes through an asshole phase. It's life. It happens. These kids don't go through the phase. They're taught to be that way. THOSE are the bratty ass kids that annoy me. Their idiot parents annoy me even more. 

Actually, I seem to have a lot of pet peeves. This must be why I stay away from people....

Daddy Issues PT2: You ARE the Father

Ok, If you read part one, you know that I grew up knowing that Daddy wasn't my biological father, even though he was passed off as such until I was fourteen. At such a young age my search was pretty limited. There's not a lot a tween could do to locate someone in the 80's. Especially not even knowing his name. I had a few minor details, and, this is going to sound really odd, I had the things I could just feel. Turns out those feelings were dead on. I resorted to snooping quite a lot, but that got me nowhere. Every once in a while my Mother would spill a detail here or there, and I'd soak it up. She was careful not to mention names, though. After she and Daddy split that all changed. She talked about my biological father more and more often, and always after a few too many drinks. One night she spilled it. His name. I finally had it.

My oldest two kids had already been born at that point. Oh, man, the phone bill I ran up! I searched everywhere I could think of. I knew he was a tattoo artist, and a damn good one! So, I called every parlor in Texas. Quite a few artists knew who he was, but not where he was. It seemed he had dropped off the grid. I had even read article written about him in Skin and Ink magazine. Still, no luck. Time was running out and I was beginning to lose hope. I actually DID hope for the best while expecting the worst. From what my Mother had finally told me about him, my Dad was a bit of a rat. He wasn't, according to her, the kind of person I would ever want to meet. I heard story after story about the bad things he had done to her, and to me when I was a newborn. Now, I'm not an idiot. If you tell me something happened when I was such and such age I can work the dates out for myself. After I did find him, I realized that some of those things I had been told couldn't be true. I knew I had at least one sister, and that her name was Gabi. But, just like Dad, that's really all i knew.

My Dad, Fyke Russel Akers. Pic is from an article about his tat work. :)

Years go by, two more kids are born, and I get married to the biggest jerk off whack job on the planet, and I move to Oklahoma. On one trip from Texas to OKC we passed through Denton. My then husband wanted to stop at a tattoo parlor. He liked spending my money on his crap. He tells me to stay in the truck. I told him to kiss my lilly white ass and I jumped out and ran in. I just had a feeling about this place. I go inside and start scoping the people. A young guy was in the middle of a tattoo, no, he wasn't right. An older woman, obviously in the business for a while, was flipping through paperwork. Her name, as it turned out, was Corky, and she owned the place. No, not quite the one either. Then, a big, burly biker, wearing coveralls with no shirt underneath, long grey hair with a long grey beard to match and covered in ink comes around the corner. YOU! You're the one I want!  I walked over to him and said hi, then told him I was looking for an artist. He said "Oh, we have some great artists." "No," I said "I'm looking for a specific artist." He gives the the curious look and asks who. "Fyke Russel Akers." I tell him. "Oh, yeah! I know Russ!" I think I must have come very close to losing it then. He was all grins until he saw my reaction. That man, Walls, is a sharp one. He figured it out instantly. "Oh...you're not...you are. You're his kid! You look just like him! Hang on, honey. I'm gonna go make a phone call." I stood there crying, watching him call my Dad. Dad wasn't there, but Walls left him a message and had his wife, Corky, send him an email.

Dammit! I'm crying just trying to type this....

We get back to Oklahoma City later that night, and I go to bed with a new hope. It's November, which means it's friggin cold as hell, Christmas is right around the corner, and I have a new hope in my heart. See, Walls is my Dad's best friend. Some of the equipment in their shop belonged to my Dad! The next morning, six a.m., the jackass comes barelling down the stairs and wakes me up with the phone in his hand. "You're gonna want to take this." I try to shake off the sleep haze and say hello. I hear the most chipper, squeaky southern man's voice say "HI! I'm your Dad!"  Can you say tears? We talked and cried for hours! I had been waiting for that call my whole life. And, here it was. Here HE was. My Dad. He didn't argue or want proof or paternity. He didn't act hesitant or ashamed, afraid or mean. He was nervous, of course. So was I! We talked and talked and talked, every morning and every night for months. My Dad was a musician, a gunslinger/quick draw artist, tattoo artist, biker, old hippie, all of which I had always known. These are the things I just felt. He was in North Carolina, had remarried, stopped tattooing anyone but family fourteen years earlier.  Right around the time my little brother was born. Brother...I have a little brother? AWESOME!!!! Oh, no...TWO little brothers, a little sister and my big sister, Gabi.

Nov '04. The first phone call! 

Dad knew where Gabi was, she had contacted him sixteen years earlier. She had better luck than I did! My little brother, Mark Russel, lived with Dad, so that was easy. Crystal and Jimmy were in the wind, though. Ok, next person search! I made up my mind that I would find them come hell or high water. But first, to meet my Dad face to face. I was working in the Federal Building in OKC, for AOL. That meant perks. I put those perks to use and booked a trip to Cozumel. My Dad took my step mom, Susan, and my little brother to Cozumel every June. I would be there too. I wanted to take all of the kids, but I was limited to one. We took the oldest, JessiKa, with a plan to take them all on the next trip.I wish I had known that there would be no next one. Then again, maybe it's better that I didn't.

June rolls around and it's time to go. Thankfully, the jackass is bringing one of his friends and they have interest in nothing but diving, which meant he'd stay out of my way. We make the drive to Houston, pick up Jess and hit the airport. I've never been so grateful for in flight drinks in my life! I was a ball of nerves! When we got to Mexico and the plane started it's decent, I got a good look at the landing strip and really wished I hadn't! Holy crap! It looked like a one lane dirt road that ended in the ocean! We're jostled and jolted and finally on the ground. The little stairs are pulled out for us to climb out of the plane onto the tarmac, so off we go. My only thought is of getting into the airport so I can clear customs and go find my Dad. Of course the idiot gets flagged by customs. I didn't even wait. As security is pulling him off to the side I was telling him "Good luck with that!" and running for the front doors. He was standing outside, in front of the entrance. All I could see was a camera with a beard hanging from it. That's him. I knew that was him. I couldn't see his face, but I knew. I push though the doors and we all but tackle each other. After a few minutes of hugging and crying I notice flashes. I'm wondering who is taking pictures, so I opened my eyes. Holy mother of God, what fresh hell is this?? It looked like the paparazzi had descended! There was a circle of people around us, all of them snapping one pic after another..OF US! Dad said that he had gotten to the airport two hours early. After pacing around for a while people started to wonder about him and ask if he needed help. Dad told them the story of how we met, and it spread like wildfire. People were waiting for me! Some of them had landed an hour or more before I did, but they stayed to see us meet for the first time. The consensus was that they couldn't have watched a better story in a movie. They were so right! I can honestly say that i couldn't have hoped for a better reunion.

Cozumel was a dream. My little brother stayed by my side so often that Susan started telling him to back up a little before he smothered me, but, I liked it! He, Jess and his friend Kel swam themselves to death. We snorkeled in the coldest water I've ever felt, dove from cliffs, toured the island and drank drank drank. That was where I learned that my Dad had an obsession with mudslides and Corona. Nice! When i say we bonded...words will never be able to describe it. We met, really met, in Mexico. He was nothing like I'd been told. And for that I am forever thrilled! I became a Daddy's girl.That trip was also where I learned that my Dad did an amazing, unintentional Jeff Foxworthy impression. While we were snorkeling on day he was bitten by a fish. Dad comes splashing up out of the water, sounding just like Jeff Foxworthy describing a nipple biting beaver. "IT BIT ME!"  he yells. Without even thinking about it, I said "O. F. F. OFF!" What we didn't know was that we had an audience until we heard a family laughing. They were standing on the cliff directly above us, and apparently recognized the joke. Susan was driving this little bitty rental car around the island, the island that takes, in her words "I know, I know. Five minutes." to get anywhere. She got really  tired of people saying five minutes when they meant two hours. Anyway, we're packed like sardines in this little car and one of us, I can't remember which one, started humming Inspector Gadget. It was probably me. Before long, Dad, Mark and myself were all mimicking a different instrument and singing the whole damn song. We cracked up when we finished and Susan said "You know, that was really good!"  We spent a day lounging at Bob Marley's, and I'm so glad we did. Hurricane Katrina wiped it off the map. We climbed pyramids, jungle trekked and ate till we thought we would pop. Susan had some weird obsession with photographing every iguana she saw! We had a blast!

Years passed, Dad and I stayed close, I divorced and moved back to Texas and was dating the Hub. We had a tiny little rat trap apartment in West Columbia. One rainy day there was a knock at my door. From the bathroom, the Hub heard me scream. It was my Dad. He decided to surprise me. He and Chris (The Hub) hit it off right away. As did he and Chris's best friend (Dopy aka Jarred). Dad and Dopy got attached easy! He got to spend time with the kids, his grandchildren, and tool around Texas for a little while. I was in hog heaven. Chris got to see exactly how much of a Daddy's little girl I really was!  Before Chris and I got our apartment together, I had located a Crystal and Jimmy Akers, living in Pasadena. As it turned out, it was the wrong Crystal and Jimmy, but that lead was scary close. They actually were in Pasadena, and the lead had taken my Dad straight to them. So now, I had all of my brothers and sisters! YES! I was complete..almost.

Chris and I were walking one night when he tells me that he had talked to my Dad that day. He tentatively told me that he had called to get his permission to ask me to marry him.  O.O  So, wedding planning began. Another year later, July 2008, I have my Dad in Texas again. Along with my Aunt, my brothers, my sister, a house full of friends and family. It's wedding time! My Dad gave me away. It was, again, like a dream. He came to visit a few more times over the next year. Christmas was the hardest. The Thanksgiving before he called to tell me that he had liver cancer and was going in for surgery. The surgery was a success, so we thought. But, a year later, it was pretty clear that something was really wrong. It was clear that he was visiting because he knew he was getting close to the end and wanted one last Christmas with his family. It was so hard to see him like that. We spent a day in Houston with my sister, Crystal and my rockin' little nephew, Fabian (aka Fizzle). It was nice. But, we could all tell that the day was wearing on Dad. Even worn out, he made sure he enjoyed the trip. He even, or maybe especially, enjoyed the turkey fiasco. My oven kept catching on fire while I was cooking the turkey! I'd blow the fire out and keep on cooking. That turkey had been teriyaki injected. There was no way I was giving up! It turned out to be the juiciest turkey any of us have ever had. There's something to be said for perseverance! That was the same year Dad sent us to a Matchbox Twenty concert for Christmas. He found out that I'd been chasing the tickets for ten years, and was on the phone at least three times a day trying to win them. See? Daddy's girl!

In January, 2009, I got a call from Susan. She said that Dad was in the hospital, and that I needed to get there as fast as possible. Chris's parents loaded up the car and we took off. We took my sister, Crystal with us. We made it to the hospital in North Carolina on January 16th at nearly 3a.m. Susan met us in the parking lot and said to forget our bags, just run. So, we ran. When we got to his room, Dad opened his eyes. They said it was the first time he had opened them in three days. We could tell that he was fighting for us. The harder we cried, the harder he tried. I did the only thing that I could think to do. I told him that we loved him, that we were a family because of him, that I had brothers and sisters because of him, that he had given is grandchildren memories, walked me down the isle and been everything I hoped he would be. I thanked him for that and told him that he could let go. He could rest now. I told my Dad that it was okay to go. He looked in my eyes, smiled, and went.

That was the hardest thing I've ever done. I love my Dad, and I miss him every day. But, I meant what I said to him that morning. We are a family because of him. My life will never be the same.

I hate that I had to meet my Uncle Buzz that way. He and I had been talking through email, video chat and phone calls since the day I found Dad. But, we never got to meet face to face. After Dad passed, we went straight to the nursing home to see him. We woke him up. He looked over and saw me and recognized me immediately. I got the biggest hug from that little man. He lit up even more when I said "Uncle Buzz, look."  and pointed at my sister, Crystal. Over the years he had told me how much he missed her, and there she was. He wanted to be happy, but he was so sad. We all were. We lost Uncle Buzz last year. I keep hair from both of them in an urn, together. Dad was buried in North Carolina. But, Uncle Buzz was brought home to Texas. This is my way of keeping them together.

I am a very lucky person. I was always taught that my Dad was a cad who wanted me dead. But he was the exact opposite. I spent years thinking I would never find him, but, I did. I never expected that he'd come equipped with such awesome siblings, but, he did! I grew up with a Daddy who took care of me and is still in my life. Then I found a Dad who spent the few years we had trying to make up for all of the years we didn't. He didn't have to. Just being him was enough. I'm proud of them both. I love them both. I'm lucky.

The very definition of the 60's. Dad, my sister, Gabi & her mom.