The Next Generation.

The following is a cute message I received this morning from a friend.


This morning 7AM, (Eli's 5 years old)

Eli in bed, Poppy walked in:

Morning Eli,

Morning Poppy.
I'm kind of tired Poppy, if you go to work and I go back to sleep, send me an email.


Good Grief !

The Slap Bet

I wish this show would get more media attention, this clip is one of my favorite moments in TV history......ever.
href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1654663518">Slap Bet Montage

href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.addToProfileConfirm&videoid=1654663518&title=Slap Bet Montage

Current mood: Thirsty.

mmmmm Dr. Pepper. I wanted it so bad.
Before I was even a twinkle in my Daddy's eye, I was predisposed to a genetic defect called clumsiness. ( you can tell that this does not end well) All day at work I had been craving DP. There aren't many things that I crave besides chocolate, and well...... I wouldn't call that a craving but rather a deep seeded need ( I would squeeze puppies, kittens and pinch small children, that stood between myself and chocolate). I am not a pop drinker, but there was just something about DP that day that I had to have. I stopped at Wendy's that evening to get some nuggets and a baked tater, and lo ... what is that on the menu I see. As sure as my name is Mary, there was Dp on the menu.
Thru the window the cashier passed me the Glistening 32 oz. object of my desire. I carressed it, maybe even introduced myself, it's all a blurr, the anticipation left me numb. I set it gently next to me in the cup holder and made my way to the homestead. I wait to put the straw in, this needs to be enjoyed, nay savored...... from the comfort of my couch.
I pull in humming a cheerful tune, and start to gather all my stuff to heft up to my 2nd floor apartment. For those of you that don't know me. I am lazy. My mantra is " Give lazy man a job to do, and he will find and easier way to do it." So..... I have a few things to carry in, camera, overnight bag, a few Walmart bags, purse (aka Bertha), and Wendy's. Let us not forget the Doctor Pepper. Any normal person would make 2 trips, not I. So I made it to the top of the stairs, the very last step to be exact. (dialogue in my head: must reach for keys, damn, where are they ? pocket ? purse ? must shift all this weight around ) And that's when it happened. I shifted the overnight bag, it throws me off balance, the 32 oz cup begins to fall forward, slllllloooowwwww moootttttttionnnnnnnn. I try to grab it with my other hand. It has nearly turned upside down, I make the last step. The cup still in motion, hits my knee, and then the floor. Right in front of the crazy neighbors door. All over her door.... all over her wall. ( mental dialogue: please sweet Jesus, do not let the crazy beast waken) Oh shit, I can hear her coming towards the door, no... where..... to..... hide. The door to Purgatory opens and emerges the wild haired crazy lady. She will want to talk. I assured her it was just me and that I'd be out in a second with a towel to clean up the mess. My sweet beautiful Doctor Pepper. So young, gone before it's time. I leave Crazy in the hall with her Demons, when I come back, she is gone. Great......what's gonna happen when I have to wipe all that stuff off her door, she think I'm a burglar trying to break in.
I clean up my mess, shed a tear, say a prayer for the dearly departed DP, and head back to my apartment. A few hours later, Crazy summons the voice of the chick from the Exorcist and starts yelling about being sick of the Fucking perverts, and "She's a fuckinnnnnnnnnnnnn whhhhoooreeee anyways". I can't help but wonder if she thinks that about me, since I don't spend that much time at my place. I tip toed to the door( time for a little peephole vision to see if I could catch her slamming doors and what not). She never came out. My cell phone has a recording feature on it, so I open the door a crack, just as she's giving another gutteral incorrherrent tirade. I must share this with other people. Unfortunately, the phone records for a few seconds and then lets out a shrill beep. It almost sounds like a police walkie. I quickly pull my arm back in. She stops, I hear her sneak towards her door. We are peeping at each other thru peephole vision. I'm sweating, did she see me ? she thinks I'm the po, she will be quiet now. I go back to my room to listen to what I have. I want to share with others the horror of living across from Crazy itself. I listen, it's rather garbled, what it actually sounds like is an excerpt from Ghost Hunters, you know how they try to record paranormal activity ? It's all quiet...... then you hear an eerie whisper........., but you know it's not a whisper..............
Now that I have myself clearly freaked out...... next time we hang out I'll play the recording for you........... until then, my door is securley locked.
All this for a pop............Oh sweet Dr. Pepper, we will meet again.

RIDING THE CRAZY TRAIN.

WARNING: FOR THOSE OF YOU WITH FOUL LANGUAGE SENSITIVITY, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER.

MY NEIGHBOR IS F'N CRAZY ! I don't mean just a lil weird. I mean bipolar, schizophrenic and off her meds, literally fucking crazy.(I was not told about her mental instability until months after I moved in, when one of the older tenants told me ) Imagine the voice of the posessed woman in The Exorcist, and that's what my neighbor sounds like about 3 nights a week. Yelling things like, "THIS IS MY FUCKINNNNNN HOOOOOUUUUUSSSSSEEEEEEEE !!!!!! or DAMN YOU TO HELL!!! She is especially fond of throwing things and slamming her door 3-4 times, before she thinks its shut. This is upon entry and exit. It's especially interesting when she calls the po because she's thinks people are stealing her things or breaking into her apt, and it's really just one of her personalities moving her own shit around. Mind you, this is the same neighbor that sits and stares out her sliding glass door then calls the police because people are watching her. It gets interesting enough that I like to turn off my tv and listen to her. Hopefully she isn't a danger to herself. I asked the other tenants if we should do anything, but they said they've tried calling mgmt and nothing gets done, It's funny but kinda scarry at the same time, I make sure my door gets locked right behind me. I don't need to wake up with some batshit crazy weirdo practicing poo art on my walls and quoting the exorcist in my apt.
Yesterday on my lunch hour, I stopped at my apt. to get my mail. The 2 lil old ladies were in the hall having coffee as per usual. They said that "crazy neighbor" was up to her same old tricks again. This was around 3pm. When I got home around 8:30 last night, there were 3 police cars in our driveway. Then silently cursed myself for not getting popcorn for the show the neighbor was about to provide. Apparently, one of the coffee ladies called and said we had a lunatic on the loose in our building. One officer let me in, there was one stationed at the other door and one by the laundry room. This was gonna be good. I get to my apt shut and lock the door behind me. Mind you, "Crazy" lives just across the hall from me. My show was going to be in peep hole vision tonight. I didn't have to wait long she was yellin. The po made there way up and knocked on her door. Po: " Is there a problem mame? " Crazy: " YOU GOD DAMN RIGHT THERE'S A PROBLEM! I'M SICK OF YOU NOT DOIN ANYTHING ABOUT THE BREAKINS HERE ! " Po: "Well mame. we're actually here because your neighbors are concerned about the noise coming from your apt." Then a few unintelligible things were said and 2 officers went into her apt, and one stayed at the door. Much to my dismay I couldn't hear what was being said any more. I heard them leave and all was quiet for about an hour. This must have been when she decided she needed to go get some milk to take her crazy pills. Doors slamming and all, she was off in a fury. That was the end to my exciting evening. Now as my friends, I ask you all this. I may live alone, and enjoy having conversations with myself, and sing like I'm a rock star in the shower, maybe even perform a few side shows for the plants, but If I ever get as crazy as the neighbor .... would you please have me put away ?

The Birth of Girth

My first post, I'm giddy. It's like prom night all over again. The anticipation, the buildup, the singing, dancing, drinking and then and then....... oh yeah, bad analogy. Pardon me while I think of an event that didn't end in jug sweat and tears.
I have something to say, I have stories to tell. I have questions, answers, pet peeves, anecdotes, quips, lessons learned, sarcasm, heartbreak and humor to share. "Can fat people do that?" , you ask. I reply with a resounding rotund "YES"! Am I proud to be plus ? No, but I am proud to be me. (Cue Richard Simmons cry scene. Enter Mary: grabbing said fro and puts the delicate flowers face to knee.) I don't want your pity, when I want your advice I will ask for it. I didn't ask to be this way, but I deal with it. Sometimes happily, sometimes despairingly. While there will be certain entries wearing the fat hat, I will not dwell on the misery that "the man" uses to oppress the journey of the joyous jollies.
"Who is this chick?" you ask. Sometimes I don't even know. I guess that's the fun in it. I can tell you..... I'm mouthy, sarcastic, loving, giving, pretty, sometimes not so pretty, crazy, grounded, proud, scared, sentimental, loyal to a fault (hurt me or a loved one and I f'n will cut you ). I like to cuss like a sailor on occasion, usually whilst driving, drinking (not at the same time)or playing Guitar Hero. I try to live honestly, key word here is try. And I honestly expect honesty in return. Most importantly, I take humor seriously! OK, that joke was a lil campy, but I'm writing it, so bugger off. Love me or leave me............



(Ah the end of the first blog...... and not nearly as disappointing as prom night. )