THANK YOU SUPER DUPER COOLEST BLOG FOLKS

(****Update @ Bottom*****)

I read all of the comments on my last post and I'm just so thankful to have such neat people that really do feel like my friends come and stop by and say something. You all feel like "real" people to me ( :P ) and I apreciate all of you that come by and I just wanted to say THANK YOU.

ALRIGHT!! We are just about to leave the house and go searching for new places! Happy Halloween from Me and Chino AND Daisy in her first Halloween costume :PP
Lots of candy to you all! Have a good one. :)

***********UPDATE*********

We totally found a new house!! EEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! And LMAO it's a way nicer place than we have now (actually for a boondock gal like me and a thatch-hut guy like C. it's the nicest place we've ever lived in in our lives :P) AND!! NO MORE FLOODING!!!

SCREW YOU ROBBERS this was a blessing in disguise and we're going to be in a better place and safer and happier. HA BITCHES !!!

:)

We Were Robbed - Aaaaaagain - With a Halloween Twist!

Guess I shouldn't have blogged about those hunters getting wiped out a couple of weeks ago. Jeez.

I came home from work yesterday, unlocked my front door, went to go pee and noticed that our house was . . . amiss. They didn't ransack the place as bad as they did last time so I'm guessing they remembered where we kept our valuables. HA! We don't have the $$ to replace anything they stole last time so their search was pretty fruitless and they moved on to what they considered second string items. And some weird shit, some really weird shit.


My guitar, beautiful acoustic/electric guitar and about $500.00 in Chino's tools. They took a couple of pictures in frames off of our wall but I don't think actually TOOK them, I actually found two of them on the floor behind the couch and strangely enough found one of them in my kitchen propped up carefully against a cake I made for Chino. It was a picture of his cousin and her baby from like 2.5 years ago and I have NO idea what they were doing with it. Also in the kitchen they took out some chicken from the freezer and left it to thaw on the counter (How thoughtful.)

We also found in our spare room 5 containers of yogurt that they took from the fridge and I guess forgot - lol - and a generic grape pop. We had a six pack of coke but I guess they liked grape - but not enough to remember to actually TAKE it.

Last time we were robbed in this house it was because we didn't have bars on our air conditioner unit and they just came on through by pushing in the air conditioner. We had bars put on, installed dead bolts on our metal front door and chino put FIVE locks on our more flimsy wood door in the kitchen. So? SOO they brought a blow torch and a hack saw and cut the damn bars off the window on the side of our house. We can't compete with a blow torch. Just. . . nope.

It looks like they were going to steal our hot water heater as well - they were polite enough to shut off the water to our house (the gas as well) and cut off one of the metal pipes going from the heater to the house but then stopped for some reason and left it.

My violin case in the house was empty and I was devastated over that. I've been playing since the 5th grade and own a lovely violin that I would I'm pretty sure we'd never be able to replace in the $$ sense, let alone in the sentimental. BUT, bright spot, it looks like when they climbed over the wall of our house they dropped it and left it behind. I found it behind our house on the ground without a scratch and that's one heck of a blessing.

LOL I applied for and was granted WIC last week and before I left they gave me a WIC tabled backpack. They robbers stole that as well. Nice, I mean really? FYI I qualify for WIC because I am still an American citizen and I still work in the U.S. ALSO even with Chino's paycheck (and me working 40 hours a week) we still fall below the poverty line and qualify so please don't think I'm some sort of government leach, I wouldn't be able to stand that, so please, don't. I actually had to do the math on how much he brings home for that and I saw why I never had before. He worked 56 hours last week and brought home $76.00 in U.S. dollars. I don't tell you that as another big boo-hoo for me but to make sure you know exactly why I'm receiving WIC.

Moving on. Our Chihuahua was safe and sound and our cats too (damn it why won't anybody steal my cats?) they left the TV so that's cool. After last time when they stole my laptop I now cart my new one to work with me everyday and my digital camera as well. ALSO I can't wear my diamond ring anymore (prego-fingers) but I never leave it at home - just-in-case - and we never leave money in the house anymore so HA HA HA I can still blog.

Last time they left behind the tape measure they brought to measure if items were small enough to get out the window and this time - lo and behold they left behind some stuff as well. It's weird, they brought a water shut-off valve and a water spigot that looks like they sawed off from somebody else's yard. We found them behind the house and can only assume they had some pretty detailed plans for stealing our water heater. Fricken strange.


I'm not crying and all freaked out this time, I'm think I'm as used to this as a person can be considering I've been robbed 5 times in Michigan and now 3 in Mexico. I'm a friggin pro.

I'm bummed about my guitar, I had taken to putting it on my side due to the gigantic belly and playing Daisy songs and singing to her. :P Talk about a captive audience. Haaaaa. But well, I can't get a new one so maybe she'll get some more sleep.

OOO!! I saved the best for last! Along with the pictures, yogurt, chicken, pop, kitchen knife, and violin that they meant to steal but instead left laying around the house in odd places - they also meant to steal 5 pairs of my thong underwear. They picked out my prettiest underpants, wadded them up to take but forgot and left behind in Daisy's stroller. What. The. HHHHEEEEEELLLL. I think I was robbed by a hungry-Alzheimer'd-perverted retard. What else could it be?

Here's your Halloween twist - when I came home yesterday there was one of my leetle friends (one of the stalker black birds) dead next to our gate door. I'm sure it was my cats but try explaining that to a flock of pissed off birds. They've always stayed away from our house either across the street or in the neighbors trees but yesterday about 100 of them crossed over and came to land on my fence, the wires above my yard and all over the ground so they could stare in at me through the window and caw and bitch and make some other weird noises to show me how pissed they were about their comrade.

No, I don't think we were robbed because we pissed off the crazy stalker birds but come on, it was a pretty good coincidence and mixed with them caw cawwww'ing at me through the window - well damn that's enough to give anybody the willies.

SO! Wish us luck this weekend as we look for a new house. Like I said we can't compete with blow torches and saws so we've just got to go somewhere else. Bye bye birdie!



Now, if you'll please lets all skip the So Sorry's (much easier that way and nobody has to feel wierd :P ) and make fun of my retarded robber. Thank You. ;)

Butterfly Migration - Foot In Mouth

The other day I was driving home from work and at one of the stop lights on the Texas side I noticed that there was a lot more traffic than cars moving about. All of a sudden I had driven up into a cloud of butterflies. Or moths I'm not sure. If you click on the picture it'll blow up and you can see a few in a shot I took out of my car window going down the road. Brilliant I know.

I sat there at the red light and GAWKED as hundreds of butterflies flew past me all heading South toward the border. It was seriously cool and I didn't know my light had turned green until people started honking and going around me. That type of driving - or lack there of- would normally piss me off too but on this day all I could think was "Sheesh stop and smell the butterflies people, calm down."

After getting into the migration cloud or path or whatever it was I realized it was gigantic and proceeded to drive through it all the way home across the border and the six miles home. They were everywhere looping around and being goofy lil butterflies and making me wonder just WHAT THE HECK they were doing. They're so SMALL and go so slow I can't imagine how they get very far - but they were a determined bunch and that counts.

The next day at work I had a couple of guests checking out that had some far-away accents so I asked them where they were from. England was the response (lol like I didn't know by their lymie tongue) so I asked them if they were on vacation. They responded yes so I had to ask WHY IN THE WORLD they would come HERE for vacation. This is not Disney World, I had to know, foot in mouth or no.

They told me they came for the butterflies. After I thought "WOW that's . . . .dedicated." to myself I remembered my experience from the day before and said - "OH!!! The Migration! You came for the Migration! I saw that driving home yesterday, it was AMAZING!" "Wow how neeeeat!" "What were those things???" And they just stared at me.

They were silent and looked a bit weird so I asked "Yesterday, the butterfly/moth bug migration, did you see it? About a mile from here?"

Nope. They missed it looking somewhere else around here off on the wrong direction I guess and both looked like they were going to puke. Honest to gawd he went pale and she turned green and they just continued to stare at me in disbelief.

I backed off the whole "OHMYGOD IT WAS THE COOLEST THING EV-VER" line of conversation and just stared back at them thinking "Damn dudes that's shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiity."

They turned to leave in silence and the lady managed to croak out a "Have a nice day." She really croaked. I want to feel bad for them but it's just too funny - they came all the way from ENGLAND. CRACKER JACK that's a long way to come for some bugs.

And by the way? I'm not fooled by butterflies - they. are. bugs. They're creepy gross bugs just like the rest but they've got pretty wings to lure you in and make you feel safe. Then they land on you and stick out their creepy swirly-tongue-deal and taste your skin. You want some salt Mr. Butterfly? Go find a shaker and get off me. Freak.

Having the Sex-Talk With My Fetus

I was stalking my site-meter for the goofy google searches that lead people to my site this morning and I came across this - "how to put on a condom." This shit is IMPORTANT kid so click HERE and educate yourself. You're on the right path so don't stop now and don't forget that if you don't wear a condom you penis will fall off (or your vagina will fall out. ) And then you die. And if you don't die you get a baby so go ahead and click that link and then come on back here for some advice on how to please your partner. Good kid.

You're back? Did you click the link? YOU HAVE TO LEARN THIS KID - don't let your penis fall off!

Ok. Here's the next bit of advice. Perform Oral Sex and perform it often. BUT ONLY AFTER you and your partner have had up-to-date STD testing to make sure that your mouth won't fall off your face if you do it. If you don't know what any of this means OR you don't know WHERE to go for STD testing or you can't afford it - you have no right having sex in the first place - go back to the legos for a while. Oral sex is wonderful and makes people like you more but you have to be SAFE about it. Oral sex could save a marriage so if your parents are going to get divorced make sure and ask them if they're getting any - it's that important.

Moving On.

(Don't you people dare send me any hate mail, kids shouldn't have free access to GOOGLE and it's your fault if they end up here unsupervised so there. Don't you know there are crazies out here on the Internets?? PLUS the condom-link was for real and if you think about it it would be a better world if everyone gave oral sex. For real, think about it!)

Now we move on.

I've already decided how I'm going to have "the talk" with Daisy (and any other half breeds we might produce.) I'm not afraid of it, hell I spout off sex talks to anyone within shouting distance that I think might need it. A girl here at work asked me to get her the post-day pill over in Mexico (much cheaper) and I told her I would but first she had to tell me just why the HELL her partner wasn't wearing a condom. I reminded her of STD's and gave her a stern talking to about how it doesn't matter the teeeeeeeesiest bit HOW many times her boyfriend might say "I'll be careful, I know how to pull out." HAAAAA. She told me she trusts him so I pointed to my grand Daisy-belly and informed her that Daisy herself is a passion-baby and wouldn't be here if somebody *AHEM* would have made their husband wear a rubber.

(It's ok Daisy, you're cool I'm glad I screwed up)

I asked her if she wanted me to buy her a few - 10 - boxes of condoms and she declined but I let her know the offer stands if she ever feels to shy to go to the store herself.

By the way, it looks a TAD odd for a 32 week prego lady to be buying the morning-after pill. Good times.

So Daisy. Daisy will be informed about sex and safe sex long before she can even comprehend it. I think it's best that way because my Mom started telling me about how I have two Dads from so far back that I can't ever remember NOT knowing about it - and that concept makes sense to me. Daisy won't be able to remember ever NOT knowing what safe sex is (so if she fucks up it is SO not my fault) and I think has a better chance of doing the right thing.

I'm not sure if I'd really go into detail about oral. I might just leave that up to the internets.

Kidnapping Update

I posted HERE about my husbands brother and cousin being kidnapped by the mafia back in August. I feel the need to give and update and SAY something about it because how can I not SAY something about it - but nothing has happened. They're gone and ever since the last phone call a week after they were taken we haven't heard a thing and neither have the police.

It's been two months and I know damn well they're not coming back but I don't want to just up and close the book on them, how can a person DO that? I want to keep thinking maybe they'll show up one day. They were good decent people, hardworking and had nothing to do with any of the trouble that caused their kidnapping - why is the mafia so evil that they take innocent people to punish the guilty? Obviously the guilty people DON'T CARE. This whole thing is incomprehensible, I just, God it's just insane you know?

Chino and I don't talk about it. I don't know how to bring it up or even if I should. About a month after they were gone he trolled the Internet every night looking for reports of dead bodies found here where we live and across the border where they were taken and I assumed that he too had given up thinking they were going to come home alive. At what point do we accept that they are gone and that they are dead without seeing a body? Are we bastards for giving up after 2 months or is this normal? Should there be a funeral? I don't know how any of this works!

I can't imagine what this is like for Chino and his dad and other brothers and I wish I could know what's going on inside my husbands head so that I could do something to help him through this but I haven't a clue. I don't know if I should ask him - maybe he WANTS me to ask him so he can talk about it - or maybe he's thinking I'm some kind of crappy wife because I never talk about it and maybe he thinks I've forgot - OR maybe he's better being left alone to deal with it and try to forget about it. God, I just don't know anything.

Ok. Enough flipping out, if I don't stop myself I'll keep droning on for page after page and nobody needs that. Just hug your loved ones ok? I don't care if it sounds cliche - you NEED to be thankful for everyday you get with your family and friends - BE AWARE that you are thankful and BE AWARE of how much they mean to you and don't forget it - shit really does happen to normal people.

Mexico: Come for the Sex, Not the Chocolate

It's hard to find decent chocolate in Mexico. And by decent? hell I'm only talking Hershey's, sorry my dark chocolate Godiva friends (w-suuuup Upstate and Refried!) it's just not happening here. They might have Hershey's kisses in the grocery store but most of the stuff you get here is all made out of this weird waxy-lame chocolate. Not quite as bad as holiday chocolate candy - you know, like the gold coin chocolates *shudder* but not great either.

I think they make it so waxy and retarded because it's hot as hell down here and will melt otherwise. We have to keep any good chocolate in the fridge or it'll puddle in 15 minutes or less.

I got some of this Ghirardelli Lux MILK chocolate (with almonds) the other day over in Texas though. The weather has cooled down here (I'm so grateful I could pee my pants) and I can risk transporting some home now. One of you mentioned that they make milk chocolate and not just dark so I went looking for it.

The verdict? I give up. I have poor taste and I need to except it and move on. YES it was good, it was fine and normal people would probably be in love with it - it was smooth as could be, not too sweet and had plenty of nuts. But? But I like my chocolate grainy and too sweet and with just enough nuts to make you wish there were more and piss you off that there are not - Hershey's with Almonds. End of story. Sometimes we just have to except who we are.

SO! Ladies? Ladies I warn you if you move to Mexico it won't be for the gourmet chocolate, and not even the Hershey's, it will be for something more. (Well duh.) What I was thinking though is that if you're the type to supplement sex - or lack of good sex - with chocolate, you're gonna run into a problem.

If you move down to Mexico to be with your man you had BETTER be getting some good assed sex. The kind where HE'S movin on down too and doesn't come up for air till he's gasping and needs a hand towel before he can kiss you. (I'm sorry, graphic? TMI?? You'll get that here sometimes.) There's no reason to leave behind your family, friends and career if you're not gettin some YYOOWWWWZA. You're not gonna get your endorphins from the chocolate here, don't even try.

You're solita? Bring the batteries. Just a warning.

Speaking Ill of the Dead

Our security guard died and my first coherent thought (after "Huuuhhhh???") was "Damn it, now we'll never get the money he owed us."

Nice Lindy, really. I'm pretty sure that that makes me a shitty human being and it's been bothering me ever since it happened. So I figured I'd confess. So there, you have it, I confess.

He was our security guard ever since we moved on to our street - we were told that he guarded all the houses on our street and we had to pay him, no choice. We were thrilled to have our very own security dude and even though he weighed 100 pounds and was 85 years old he DID have a gigantic gun. Everything was great until someone stole our grill and then a few weeks later robbed our house all while we were at work and he was on duty.

Chino and the guard had become man-friends in that way that men so easily seem to do, having the man-talk about weather and tools and things that are a mystery to us women folk but make us glad that our men are sociable in some way. After our house was robbed I went ballistic and told Chino that there was ZERO way we would ever pay the guard again. I don't think the guard had anything to do with the robbery, he looked as bewildered as we felt but when he came up to our doorstep two days later asking for his weekly payment I about lost it. I started crying and told him to get out but he didn't understand so I had Chino come and explain that we would no longer be paying him because of the robbery.

I felt shitty. I felt really shitty because he was old and poor and Chino was his friend and I was making Chino tell his friend to piss off but the thought of what had been stolen from us outweighed my sympathy. Chino wanted to keep on paying him but I was having no part of it, I told him that if the guard wanted to replace $2500.00 in stolen goods and somehow make up for the sentimental value of so many other things - THEN we would pay him.

Gaahhhhh I know I was justified but I STILL feel guilty.

Anyways, moving on, Chino and the guard still had a little bit of a man-relationship and Chino even loaned him some cash a couple of weeks later. You might think he was nuts for that but my husband has a heart the size of Kansas and I like that about him. Fast forward a couple more weeks and the guard was dead, fell down and hit his head or died of diabetes - all the neighbors had a different story - but he was dead and there I was standing in the street talking to the neighbors saying all the right things and secretly thinking my nasty money-thoughts.

When Chino came home I told him what happened and waited to see if he'd say anything. Of course he didn't and that made me feel like more of a bastard human being so a few hours later I confessed to him my first post-dead-guard thought. He didn't judge me, he's nice like that and instead made me feel better by informing me that he had told the guard not to worry about paying us back the week before. I don't think he ever got over stopping paying the guard and that was his way to feel better.

Lordy.

I wish I had something big and profound to say about all of this but I don't, I'm plum out. We donated to his funeral fund when the neighbors took up a collection and I've confessed my dirty thoughts now though and maybe I can stop feeling guilty. I think I would have made a good Jewish mother.

Bird Update and Fireworks

Remember the post about The crazy assed birds stalking me at work? (why is that link not underlined??)
Well, it took a while but they've followed me home. I live about 8 miles away (as the crow flies *snort*) and for the past two weeks, every night a tad before sunset flock after flock of these birds show up outside of our house. No, I don't know if they're the same exact birds, they can't be right? *hands over ears LALALALALA* But it's the same kind and here they are night after night. They hang out infront of our house, on both sides and in the back, they've got me surrounded like SWAT.

It's kinda cool for about the first half hour, Chino and I will go and sit outside and watch them fly in and take roost in the trees. I enjoy watching the boy birds try and be all bad assed and puffed up doing they're I'm-so-sexy dances and tweets for the girl birds. They get to bobbin their heads and I wait for the girl bird to look around like "oh my god" and fly away. Too cute. (If we sit outside and watch birds ever night NOW what are we going to do when we're old??)

Like I said, it's great for the first half hour or so and then things start to get LOUD. That many lil birdies make a shit load of noise - constant and the SAME - and it starts to drive me batty. I fantasize all the time about throwing out a few packs of firecrackers and watching them all fly away to leave me in peace again.

Ok so I went LOOKING for firecrackers to buy. Can someone PLEASE tell me where all the damn FIREWORKS are?? When white people think Mexico we think three things - Tequila, Tacos and fireworks. This is supposed to be where the GOOD fireworks are now where the HELL are they?!? I can't very well throw tacos at the damn birds so fess up Mexico, where's the good shit? Just what the hell?

Is this not a firework town? WWHHHYYYYYYY would I move from a state (Mi) that doesn't allow fireworks cooler than snakes and sparklers - and oooooo fountains - to a part of another damn country that doesn't even SELL snakes and sparklers. DAMN IT. I used to drive 5 hours round trip to Illinois a couple times a year and smuggle back a trunk load of the GOOD SHIT fireworks so my Mom and Dad and my friends and I could blow shit up in style - but now I don't know where to go.

*Pout*

Stupid Texas and SILLY MEXICO I want to screw with some darn BIRDS!!

Tantrum anyone?

I guess I could light tequila on fire and pitch it at them. There's always that.

Good Eats!

I've posted before about foods people eat here in Mexico that gross me out or are just plain different - cactus, stomach soup, intestine tacos and even chicken feet. Well, if we're talking feet let's not forget cow feet and pig's feet too but these days they seem kinda normal. Hell the mention of tongue tacos doesn't even phase me anymore.

Did I tell you guys about the Brain Taco's? I can't remember if I did or not and I don't want to double-post but damn, it's a BRAIN taco so it deserves a mention just in case. Honest to God we were driving off our regular route and I saw an entire taco stand "Taquitos de Cerebro" devoted to brains. Who says Halloween comes only in October? Brain tacos with a side of chicken feet soup - BOOO !

A couple of weeks ago we were having Fish and Potatoes Veracruz-Style (whole fish cooked in a disc with oil over a wood fire outside) and I watched one of C's cousins working the face of his fish to get to the fish tongue to eat it. I almost missed him do it because I was too busy playing with MY fishes mouth working his jaw up and down so he could sing songs to my husband and ask him for kisses. Chino wouldn't kiss my fish. Punk. Anyways, I asked him if he really was doing what I thought he was doing and he laughed and said yes, that the fish tongue is delicious. He THEN proceeded to pop out the eye balls and savor them as well. Never one to be rude I offered him MY fishes eyes and he gladly excepted.

Crackers. Just crackers.


My husbands family thinks the food that I eat is off the wall sometimes. A couple weeks ago they were showing me pictures from a vacation and came across a squirrel pic. They were ooo'ing and ahhh'ing and I piped up to say how yummy squirrel is. Whoops. They looked at me in horror and just shook their heads. They eat RABBIT (and so do I, I come from country folk) so I didn't think it'd be such a big deal, but while we have rabbits down here we don't have squirrels, so eating a squirrel equates to eating a zoo animal. Squirrel stew with a Penguin sandwich please!

The best new find came last week when we were out and about and decided to grab some street-chicken for lunch. Chino came back with the bag of street chicken - Chicken, tortillas, green salsa, red salsa and charro beans - with a little something extra on top. He was obviously excited and happy with himself but I couldn't figure out for the life of me what the strange looking, meat looking object was resting on top of my chicken. He wanted me to guess so I guessed "An organ of some type?" He said yes and to be more specific. "Liver?" No. "Kidney?" No. "Heart?" No. I was out of ideas so he told me just to taste it.

Yeah, what about no.

It turned out to be a grilled piece of lung.
*ahem*
LUNG !!

(hoooooaallllllk)

Did you know people eat LUNG?? I knew people ate brains so the brain tacos weren't shocking but freaking LUNG? SHIT!

Gaaahhhhhh it was cooked on a grill so it looked just like a piece of one of those black lungs they show you on t.v. to make you quit smoking. GAAAGGGGG.

He insisted I try it and I'm pretty brave so I put it up to my mouth, retracted my tongue as far as it would go and bit into the tip with my teeth - aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's it. It felt like some sort of rubber and it smelled weird and smokey and I was finished. I reminded him that my pregnancy book says it's best to not eat organ meat during pregnancy and that for the sake of the baby I had better abstain.

Damn, just damn.

I'm a Tramp

That's it, shame, shame on me and my trampy ways. And what DO they call it when you can SEE yourself performing a certain act or behaviour, totally admit you're doing it, KNOW it's wrong, am even surprised at yourself but can't seem to stop?? What. Is. THAT!?

I had a guest come in yesterday here at the hoe-tell, normal dude, treated me like a human and was asking me for a bunch of things during breakfast - whatever, fine. He came to tell me they were out of coffee (we had plenty he just didn't see it, no biggie) and needed more bread and o.j. I showed him the coffee made some warm o.j. form concentrate (that's what my boss buys and the water from the tap is never cold enough) and told him that I was sorry but we were out of bread. I did what I could with what my boss left me to feed people (no bread, REALLY??) and went on about the rest of my business feeling laaammee that I personally can't offer better service from this place. I did what I could do and I was polite of course but it was still substandard.

Half an hour later and the man came back to give me a $5 tip. *snort* I didn't understand what he was doing, I thought he wanted me to make change for him - we just don't get tippers here and I'm not used to it. I'm such a dork I actually asked "What's this?" *head bang against wall*

He tipped me for a shitty breakfast and I couldn't help but feeling really unworthy but at least I didn't try and give it back. The last time a guest offered me a tip I tried to give it back because I was just being nice to him for he hell of it, I wasn't working for a tip and I felt surprised and embarrassed - but I ended up making HIM feel double embarrassed by giving it back. Why must I be so socially backward?

There are times when I go crazy-out-of-my way above and beyond my job and THOSE are the times when I wish people would tip me. Why is it that those people can walk away without saying even a "Thank You" and this guy will tip me for NOTHING. Gahh, he wasn't even being slimy or anything, just nice.

I'd like to say it was all guilt but I'm sensing some trampiness in my ways for my behaviour to follow. The man came back later to ask about getting a stamp (of course my boss does not have stamps) and you'd think I was suddenly Mrs. Martha Stewart/Cinderella Transformed so-sorry-ee-ing and poo-poo-ing and batting my lashes and offering him directions to the nearest post office along with "If there's anything else you need just call down here to the front desk!" *Eyelash bat* *beauty-queen teeth smile.*


Gag.


All day I was a smiling suck-up to this guy and all because he gave me a tip. If he wouldn't have tipped me I would have still been polite and givin him directions to the post office but there would have been much less poo-poo-ing and eye lash batting . Even as I was doing it I was thinking "OH MY GAWD you lil tip HOR you! Stop it! Act normal for heavens sake."

I was hoping he would be gone today but he was still here and I found myself suit up with my princess smiles and "Is there anything I can get you? How is your stay going? Let me get more juice, right away!" *Bat Bat.*

Batty is right. I didn't want him to tip me again, I was still in tramp mode for the tip he gave me yesterday. So I'm a cheap tramp, one payment and I'm at-your-service till you leave. Beautiful. He DID tip me again today (OMG right? Stop it dude I don't deserve it and you're turning me into a freak, please, just let me be nice to you for free.)

The weirdest thing about the tramp-costume? I can't seem to take it off and now I'm miss-light-bright to all of our guests running around being extra sweet and grossly polite. I'm always polite, but this is getting out of hand. Ah well, everyone seems to be somehow impressed and walking away more happy than they came so at least I can feel good about my trampdom.


$5 and I'm a tramp for everyone, I'm not just cheap - I'm obviously confused.

Robbed and Beaten in Mexico

Not me or any of my family so no worries there. No, it happened yesterday to a group of men that I met here at the Hotel about a month back. This was the worst group of people I've had the displeasure to come across since I've been here and I was APPALLED a month ago when upon check-out that they wanted to make a second set of reservations in another month. I was DREADING them coming back they are SO rude, condescending, belittling and just all around horrid. I complain sometimes but the majority of people I come across here are no problem at all to deal with and range from crazy-nice-polite to regular ole indifferent, and indifferent is FINE, you don't have to woo me, just be human.


These men forgot what human was a long time ago. They were supposed to be GONE this morning when I came back but there they were milling around the front desk demanding to use my phone. One of them spilled a teeny bit of info about being robbed and I put on my best ever I'm-SO-Sorry face and asked them what happened. Their answer was at once shocking and at the same time not surprising at all.

They came as a group of hunters headed down south Mexico to go dove shooting and on their way back from the trip were stopped by the Mexican Police. They said the police took all of their wallets (i.d. credit cards, cash, everything) cell phones, guns belongings and rental van. I asked if anybody was physically harmed and they pointed to a younger guy sitting in the corner holding his side, he's got some cracked ribs. I'm betting Mr. Young-and Cocky got mouthy or a little rowdy with the whole situation and didn't realize that they would beat him to a pulp in response. You don't fuck with the Mexican Police - they don't hesitate beating the shit out of people. I'm not saying that a person should just stand there and be robbed but down here you have to weigh your priorities - THINGS or LIFE.

The man at the front desk using our phone to talk to Enterprise the rental company started getting irate, swearing up a storm and yelling at the Enterprise worker who was explaining their policy to him - they couldn't "help him out" and he was throwing a shit-fit - right there for the other guests and their children to hear. I said all of the "I'm so sorry's" and "That's so terribles" because I don't have it in me to say "HA FUCKER - Maybe you shouldn't be a DICKFACE all the time!!" The truth though, the crazy truth is that I'm not glad that these guys had to go through all of this. Yes, they might be some of the most wretched people I've ever come across but it's not enough for me to justify how much Mexico can suck ass. I don't wish this kind of thing on anybody because if I did then I'd be saying that I in some way condone it.

I might wish that they get a really NASTY and painful and gross STD from a prostitute or toilet seat, but I wouldn't wish Mexico on them.

Currently they're milling around the lobby and breakfast area swearing and dirty-ing up everything I just cleaned in preparation for the next day. They're supposed to be OUT OF HERE and not fucking up my day making me clean everything twice and demanding me to make calls and run free errands all while still treating me like toe-nail-crud, but it's not bothering me like it did before. I can't get up the gumption and smile and think "That's what you GET!!" but at the same time I can't find even an ounce of me that feels bad for them. Not even a smidge.

OH! They just came up and wanted me to make copies of the papers that they wrote their stolen belongings claims on. Let me show you how NOT to go on vacation. (there were about 7 guys and here's some of the things they wrote down)

Cash - $650

- 1 Blackberry Bold - $500

1 Gold Chain - $1,000

Sunglasses - Costa Del Mar 580

Cash - $690

"Cell phone" - $500

Cash - $420

1 Sieko Divers watch - $565

Cash - $600

1 Silver Tiffany money clip - $?

All credit cards

Ferengeti sunglasses

Cash - $650

Morons. They were supposed to be in Mexico for 1.5 days and they all needed to carry over $600 in cash? PLUS credit cards? Retarded much?? And lol why were they so attached to their sunglasses that they knew them by name? The only smart guy in the bunch listed - "Cash - $20 and Sunglasses - $20."

When I visited my husband down here before I moved here I brought travelers checks and one pre-paid credit card (not my freaking personal cards and bank cards) just in case something came up. Jewelry stayed at home and if I had owned a $500 cell phone I would have bought one of those pre-paid phones and left my blackberry at home.

Idiots.

Mexican Superstition

A couple of months back I was going about my business at work when one of the housekeepers came up to me with a safety pin stuck out toward my face and urgently started talking to me and asking questions. She only speaks Spanish and I was only getting 3/4 of what she was trying to tell me, but I got the gist of it.

She was trying to ask me if I was wearing my "security." She kept saying "Security! Security Lindy, You need!" I stared at her blankly and she just kept repeating it over and over so I asked why I needed "security" and she went off about how I needed to protect my baby-in-utero against things like the evil eye, the full moon and people that might put spells on me. All I could think was "OOOHHH, yeah, you know, THAT kind of protection! Oh yeeeaaahhhh I get it, WHEW, for a second I thought it was something. . . else. RIIIGGHHHHHHTT." When I think of needing protection for myself and my belly-child I think of things like making sure I'm not kidnapped so someone can steal my baby or hold me for ransom, so this was. . . unexpected.

Through my Spanish and both of us miming and waving our hands about she showed me that the safety pin she was waving in my face was just the security she was referring to. She told me that I needed to at all times of the day wear a safety pin on my pants in front of my belly -OR- to place the safety pin in my underpants if I couldn't pin it anywhere.

A safety pin in my underpants.

She went on to tell me that I also needed to find a tiny key to hang from my safety pin security system and wear them both at all times. Who knew? They didn't mention this method in "What to Expect When Expecting," and my Mom sure never told me any of this. Ok, kidding, I knew she was delving into the superstitious witches and spells side of the Mexican culture and I went about the conversation with an open face.

She ended up giving me the safety pin that she had on her and actually pinned it on the front of my pants just in case I wasn't understanding what to do. She's a cool lady right? I think so. A while later her English speaking cousin (the other housekeeper) came down and filled in all the gaps for me and translated all of the questions that I could think to ask. It surprises me how open and honest they are about this entire subject. They went on to tell me about a mean lady in their family who's always starting trouble by casting bad spells on other family members and about the time that one of their brothers was supposedly killed by a particular nasty spell placed upon him.

Mary the English speaker claimed that she herself was headed for the grave from a terrible sickness afflicted on her from an Owl outside her bedroom one night, but was saved when her cousin took her here to a lady who had the vision of Jesus show up in one of her tortillas and let Mary touch it. (Jesus, not Mary, they're not catholic) She said after she touched it that she began vomiting up a black sticky substance over and over (ridding herself of the bad-magic she assumed) and immediately began to feel better and start back on the road to good health.

These ladies are my friends and until this conversation I had no clue that they were believers in all of this stuff, they're just every day people you know? When I told Mary I was surprised at all of this and didn't know she was an occult believer she kinda laughed and smiled and said "Oh, no not us, we're not really into it, we don't practice, we're Christians, it's just that some stuff has happened to us and our family over the years, no not us, but there ARE people who really do believe in it. "

Huh? Lol I think I deserve an academy award for the skill I posses in keeping a strait face through all of this. They're my friends though and I'm not about to flip out with "WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't believe??! You said you puked TAR after seeing JESUS in a TORTILLA!! And right now I'm wearing a safety pin under my shirt!"

Nah, like I said they're my friends and I find it all quite interesting, so bring it on. I wear my safety pin when I'm sporting pants and regularly pull up my shirt to show them that I'm wearing my security. I DON'T put it in my undies when I'm wearing a dress, but they don't have to know that. It makes my friends feel better and for me it's kind of a silly secret that I carry around just for the hell of it. This may not be my thing but it IS for other people and who am I to judge and say who is right. And besides, you can never have too much security. (except when it comes to putting sharp objects in my underpants)

I Switched Things Up

Unless you're blind or even MORE ungodly unobservant than even myself, then you'll notice I changed a couple of things here on my page. No offense to blind people. And for the crazy people like myself who has somehow reversed the male-female role with her husband by not noticing for 3 days after he gets a haircut and thus leaving him feeling neglected and pissy - well, look around, it's RED. Ugghh I never notice his haircuts and I don't noticed that he's shaved his beard till the next day when the yummy smooth faze is over and the cactus is back.

PLEASE god if he EVER shaves his mustache off like I've been begging him to do for 2.9 years PLEASE let me notice right away! I'm married to a Mexican Tom Selleck and no matter how much I beg or reason he WILL GOD FORSAKEN NNNOT shave that thing off for me to see his real face. (And please let me remember our anniversary and his birthday - amen.)

Anyways. I had this big grand notion that I would go out and find THE coolest template ever and download it and be the bad-asset around. I eventually DID find the coolest template ever but there's something clicked wrong SOMEWHERE in the bowels of my computer and I can't download for SHIT. Everything downloads into a WordPad document and no matter what I seem to do to change this -even the obvious things like ask it to download somewhere ELSE- it ignores me. I downloaded a program to unzip the files and I can't figure out how to use it. When I go to OPEN the document to view it, it goes right into Wordplay again. I don't get it. I'm not computer smart and Google can't seem to help me.

SO!! I got another grand notion to build my own template. Uh. Tee-hee. Ha. Hhaaaaa. Bwwaaaahahaahahahahahhaah *RETARD* Did you KNOW that to build an entire page you have to do it in HTML and HTML is the most aggravating, ridiculous and meticulous thing created EV-VER?!?

Moving on. I came to a compromise and high-jacked a blogger template and dinked around with IT'S html till I got something I liked. It took me like 39 hours of dinking and begging google for how-too's but I did manage to make it totally different than what I started with and HTML'd my way into something I liked. HTML is the shit. (after it's done being an asshole)

It's not so awesome I KNOW, but every last detail is mine and I searched and dinked and begged and dinked and dinked and got pissed and dinked some more so I FEEL like it's some sort of grand accomplishment. Just let me be happy and delusional over here in the corner all by myself chewing my pencil and drinking cranberry juice out of a sippy cup.

OH! One thing, I did manage to lose my link-list and I'll get it back up after I've calmed down enough to not hyperventilate every time I look at this damn screen. I've got more pictures and junk like that but I've moved on to lazy-town.

AAAAAAAAAAND remember how I mentioned in my last post that I'm clumsy? Well, cooking today I managed to splosh boiling hot frying oil on my face. DAMN IT MY FAAACE??? I've burned I'm guessing 80% of the skin on my arms piece by piece over the years but never my FACE, that's like, wrong. Is this going to leave the 5 year skin discoloration on my FACE like it does my arms? Tell me no. Someone please. I went racing to Google and it says that face burns usually heal faster and better and more without scarring than the rest of the body due to increased blood flow. Google is right, RIGHT??? I'm not blistered, it's just 1st degree but there sure is some redness. I've got ointment so now it's just time that will tell. My FACE! SHIT.

There is a REASON I don't use a curling iron.

I also thought it would be a good idea to make some more ice and in moving the 4 ice trays the 1.5 feet from our water to the freezer I managed to spill them IN the freezer, down the refrigerator and onto the floor. Ah well I needed to mop anyways. We ate, I spilled salsa and beans all down the front of my shirt and I'm calling it a well rounded day. God help us all.

Clumsy Klutz and the Doorknob of Doom

I've always been accident prone and kinda ridiculously klutzy. I fall down a lot and I seem to have a hard time judging where my body is going in relation to doorways, walls, tables and even other people - I'm forever running into shit. To make dinner I must first drop whatever I'm taking out of the freezer, bonk my head on a cupboard door, drop 1/3 of the food in preparation and cooking and knock over at least one glass of water that I've been drinking that's been sitting on the counter. During dinner I'll knock over my water glass again, nearly tip my plate over, drop at least one utensil and FOR SURE leave a couple tablespoons of food on my shirt or in my lap.

I never watch where my feet are going so curbs, steps and miscellaneous objects laying on the ground (trees, car ramps, toys ect.) are all fair game to set me up for a tumble. I cut, burn or bruise on a daily basis and I'm ok with it. I'm used to all this, it's normal for me and I only think about it when people that don't know me - or do - get so flabbergasted that they have to say something. My ex's pet name for me was "clum." Jerk.

ANYWAYS - I was pretty damn nervous when I got pregnant, I thought there was no way I'd make it through 9 months without damaging myself and the baby repeatedly. PLUS the baby books say that prego's are more clumsy than normal and tend to drop things a lot more due to the loose ligaments. I was really crapping my pants when I read all that and the only thing that helped were the numerous reassurances in the baby books that say the uterus is like crazy-cushioned and can take falling down and even car accidents.

So, how has the super-clum done these past 31 weeks? Well, the super-clum got a miracle. Miracle is a tad extreme of a word but I haven't fallen down since I found out I was pregnant, and THAT is crazy-town. I can't for the life of me figure out what's happened but hey, beggars can't be choosy. My knees aren't even skinned up (insert dirty joke about how I haven't been getting laid.) Sure, there have been burns and cuts and I DO drop things more as of late, but to not fall down all the time really is kinda nice.

Ok, I had a point to all of this, I'm rambling, someone edit me, cut me off. Sheesh.

Last night I got up for a 2a.m. jaunt to the bathroom but instead of opening the bedroom door all the way and walking through like a normal human being, my brain told me to walk before the door was open all the way and I propelled myself full speed into not only the side of the door but the DOORKNOB. The doorknob jabbed strait into my gigantic baby-home-belly and I half keeled over with pain. And here is what I thought -

"OH my god! Bastard doorknob and stupid non-open door! SHIT. Oh God, Daisy. What if that just smashed in her head? What if I've maimed her so bad that her brain is swelling up? OH MY GOD I can't go to the doctor and tell them I walked into the DOORKNOB. That's something you ONLY hear about on T.V. when the poor battered woman or kid is trying to lie and not tell on Daddy for beating the shit out of them. DOORKNOB, GAWWD they'll never believe me! WHY am I retarded? Daisy? Are you there? Would you MOVE or kick or something PLEASE? Oh Jesus. The books say the uterus has a lot of cushion but she's getting big and what if her head was pressed up against that exact spot and I've bashed her head in? Oh god. MOVE Daisy, please don't be stunned and all brain damage-y. A doorknob! Nobody is going to believe that!"

And so on and so forth. She's back to moving like normal this morning so I at least know I didn't totally brain her. WHEW, for real.

Poor baby though, I still drop things like a mad-woman. I'm pretty sure I'll be too frightened to walk with her in my arms for quite a long while. When I'm standing-still I drop things strait to the floor but if I'm walking I tend to throw them so I can get my hands out to catch myself. I threw my pet frog into a wall once. He was fine, but he was a frog. Daisy doesn't have much of a chance with me unless I get another miracle. Maybe a sling. If I keep her in a sling all the time I can't drop her right? I can walk her INTO things and sqoosh her but at least I wouldn't drop her. Poor Daisy.

Warning: Depressing and Slightly Informative Post

I saw over on Fishsticks and Fireflies that today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, and I have something to say on this subject. Specifically, about women who lose babies very early on in pregnancy.

I had a miscarriage last December 25th about 3 months before I became pregnant with my current baby-in-stomach, Daisy. It's been knocking on the door of my brain to SAY SOMETHING about the whole ordeal, to say what I feel like I need to get out there about it and to share with others that it might have happened to - but I just couldn't find the right moment or day or, I don't know. Following is a post that I wrote months ago but never found the gumption to hit "Publish." It's long and not the most fun subject but I have an important point to all of it that I hope at least one person out there gets and takes with them into the future. So here we go.


A couple of months after I moved to Mexico Chino and I conceived for the first time. Not the baby that I'm carrying now but another that didn't make it. We found out a week before Christmas that I was pregnant and planned on waiting till Christmas day to tell everyone.

My Mom ended up GUESSING like the day after I found out because she has Mom-psychic powers, she cracks me up.

Christmas day came and during that morning while we were opening Christmas presents in front of the tree I began to have pains and feel funky. I went to the bathroom and came back and I knew, and there was Chino with a surprise present for me (we agreed not to get each other anything.) His present was a candle and mug and a hand made card that was thanking me for giving him a baby and how wonderful a mother he knew I would be and Merry First Christmas as a mommy. I thanked him and I made it another 15 minutes, but then I started to cry and I had to tell him.

It was horrible telling him, he was so happy about the baby you can't imagine, and I had to tell him I was losing it. I was really in a horrible state and he was helpless and probably feeling just as horrible and then the pains really got going.
We were scared, didn't know what to do or even where a hospital was in this city so he drove me to his family's house and ran in to ask someone for directions. It was Christmas Day so they were ALL there and they all came out to see if was ok and like 3 of them came with us in the car to the hospital - and oh god the rest followed behind in other vehicles. They are wonderful supporters but I didn't want to be seen or be ruining their holiday too and I was actually capable of being embarrassed.

The rest is gory details and I'm not going there but I can say I didn't stay long and I'll never go to a Mexican hospital again. I went the next day to a hospital in the U.S.

I have a point to all of this. Here we go. I miscarried really early in the pregnancy, 6.5 weeks and every person I had to tell about it - friends or family - said the same thing. "Oh well thank goodness it was early on." "Thank God you weren't really far along."

I know what they all meant, and I know they meant well and it was the only thing anybody could say and I'm not mad because people don't understand until it HAPPENS to them, I would have said the same thing if it had been my friend. But let me tell you, I would never say something like that ever again after this.

It doesn't matter if you know you are pregnant for only one day, to lose a baby is to lose a baby. That's it. There's no consolation prize for who can do it the soonest, it is what it is and it's terrible.

Now that I'm months along with another baby I do know that if I lost her now, after seeing her ultrasound and feeling her kick, it would be worse, and I can't imagine what a mother goes through when she has a still born baby - can't even fathom. But those early losses CAN NOT be belittled and pushed aside and thought less of. It was a life!

I was so mad at God I didn't know if I'd ever be speaking to him again - and this from a lady who claimed never to want babies. It was horrible and I didn't understand and I wanted to SCREAM at people when they would say "Oh at least.. Oh thank God..." NO, AT LEAST NOTHING AND SCREW GOD I BROKE MY HUSBANDS HEART and had to tell my mom on the phone Christmas morning that I was losing the baby, Happy Holidays.

It's hard to know what to say when that happens to someone, lord knows I'm a gigantic idiot when it comes to things like that or just plain speechless, but I ask you, anyone who might read this, to please not say at least these "At leasts." Just say you're sorry but no matter how well meaning please don't belittle it however unintentional. Please don't make another woman go a little crazy inside her head trying to remain sane and calm. Just let it be what it is, a loss.

Ok. Enough from me till I can lighten up again. Thanks Blog for letting me get this out of me and out there and don't worry about making the "I'm so sorry" comments, I HATE feeling weird and like I have nothing relevant to say or anything helpful to say in these situations and so I refuse to put my friends in that same spot. It's ok for you to just read.

Self Induced Mange

Self induced mange happens on Makeover-Day when a 7 month pregnant lady realizes that though she hasn't SEEN her lady region in a couple of months that she CAN feel something going a tad astray. I know, I blogged about not being able to self groom a while back and how I was thinking about letting my husband do some landscaping. He IS Mexican, it's like, what they do in the States, I should trust him.

But no. I'm still not mature enough to let him at it even though he nearly begs. Too squicky (thanx for the word Krissie) for me.

So. A couple of months later I find myself feeling the she-region up in wondrous-fascinating-horror and deciding I can't go one more second growing a jungle. Monkeys could live in there at this point and I hate monkeys. Hate me tree huggers but the forest must be made into a park. A lovely park for my husband to hang out in when the weather is nice. :P

Scissors? Wow no, I tried and damn to the shit it's hard as hell to cut blindly, just never mind. My husbands face trimmer? You guys told me to use it and I listened but I was so far beyond trimming that it just combed through my shiny locks and left me more groomed perhaps, but everything intact. So. You know what I did. I psyched myself up like I've done 1,206 other times in my life and told myself "Oh, it'll be ok, I'll do it smart, I'll just use it as a strait edge razor not as a leg razor and I'll be like all intelligent in my use of it and wield it like a professional sculptor." Or something.

Something of course results in Self Induced Mange.

Call me "patches."

NO, I can't just give up and go natural, I'm not as cool as some people (Hi Jenny!) I just can't seem to get used to the FEEL of it. I like my house open, I need things organized and tidy to function right and not be cranky - so why would the lady parts be any different? I am what I am, and I am. . . patchy.

I will never EVER learn.

Nose Strips in Mexico

You know those nose strip crazy glue doo dads that you put on your face to rip off a couple layers of skin clean your pores? My Dad is an old hermit hippie and HE'S used them so you guys must know what I'm talking about. Check out the lady over here to your right. Those things. And by - Thank You - to this lady, I found you via Google Image Search and I don't know who you are, but I looked just like you yesterday. So thanx.

I'm here to inform you in case you didn't know that they don't exactly work when the temperature is above 90 degrees with 90% humidity. 90 degrees is like a spring breeze down here in Mexico but the nose strips just don't give a damn.

I picked up a box yesterday after noticing I look like a crack-headed monster my unsavory image in the mirror. I got home with about 30 minutes to spare before I had to go and pick up C. from work and decided to start a makeover. Mmmmmmm maaakkeeeovvvverrr. In the past these strip-ee-doo's never took longer than 10 minutes to dry, but here? Huh Uh.

I ended up with no time left and still wet strips when it came to pick up C. from work and decided screw it, I'm not wasting $2, I'm gonna make the drive to his work with them on. I figured the breeze during the drive would do the trick and I could rip 'em off right before I got to C's so I wouldn't frighten his co-workers.

I'm sure I didn't look like a freak at ALL driving through the packed side streets filled with people staring at my be-decked face in all it's strip glory. You would THINK that this would be the one day that I would actually go without being whistled at from men on the street - but no, they wouldn't want to discriminate I guess. One whistle did seem to die off halfway through, maybe he had second thoughts. I kept trying to decide if I looked like I just had plastic surgery or if I looked like a burn victim but I'm still not sure. Maybe just plain freak would apply.

Anyways, the drive to his work didn't work and I couldn't bring myself to embarrass the shit out of my husband so I did suck it up and pull off the still-gooey-glue strips from my face and try to act like everything was normal.

Pregnant, married, nose strips all over my face and I'm still a hot ticket here when I drive down the street. I'm starting to think the heat does something to peoples brains here.

Baseball and Swearing

I went to my first little league baseball game over here in Mexico this weekend. Actually this would be the first baseball game I've attended since I was . . . little league age. I've never been into sports and I wasn't expecting much from this, just supporting the family. Things were different for me somehow though and I found myself getting . . . into it.

A tad.

The opposing team was supposed to be the best in the league and our team only on it's 3rd game ever played. The family told us that we were to go into the game expecting to lose and that they were chalking the whole thing up to a "learning experience" for the kids.

Whatever!

Of the other team -

"Puro Pinches! They're supposed to be the best? All they do is ball after ball, walk after walk. What kind of playing is that? At least our team has the balls to SWING once in a while! Grow some real balls you little punks! CHEATERS! NO wonder you win every game!"

That was me and it's a good damn thing nobody there spoke english. Our team hadn't yet learned the fine art of not swinging at every-single-pitch thrown to them, while the other team wouldn't swing if they're life depended on it. SO the batting went a little something like - Strike out. Strike out. Strike out. -Switch- Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk, score. Walk, score. Walk score. On and on till our team managed to get 3 outs on bases. Eeesh.

Thank God they only go 4 innings because by the 3rd people started getting pretty quiet and just staring at the score board going up up up only on one side. EXCEPT for the dick face other teams cheering section who sang song after clapping bastard song caught up in the excitement that they were grounding our poor boys into the dirt. Dildos, not cool. I increased my swearing and was so inspired by everything that I finally got the hang of it in Spanish. All it took was some piss-me-off children's baseball to teach me the adjective-noun placement rule once and for all. Things click when it's important to get it right.

I guess having family playing in the game changed something for me. I couldn't care less to watch it on t.v. but you put my 7 and 8 year old nephews in short pants and I'm a rabid fan. Who knew?

Ah well, the boys came out looking haggard and beat down but we all smiled and clapped them on the back and told them how wonderful they did anyways. Chino and I were sitting at the far end of the family and nobody heard me going bat-shit during the game so all was well.

Next week? Next week I'm bringing signs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to practice my Spanish, I've found a new reason to want to learn.

I'm Not Getting Laid

There. I said it. I've been holding out on this subject because I've scared off all the male readers I ever had with the prego-stuff already and the 2.5 left I was hoping to keep. (Hi Sgt) Admitting that you're not having sex doesn't help to keep male readers but I can't stand it anymore I MUST SPILL THE BEANS. I can't NOT spill the beans it's just the way I work. (I have a big mouth)

I USED to get laid a lot. I loved it, I remember it, I wish it would come back to me and I hope it will after I do the whole giving-birth thing, but for now it's like I didn't pay the water bill and someone shut me off.

Dear Pregnancy,
What the HELL pregnancy? Just WHAT is your problem with SEX? Sex was how we GOT pregnant and now you shut me down like a cheap wind-up toy? Screw YOU pregnancy and your stupid hormones DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND that my poor husband is a TAD fed up with this? And DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND that I can only be convinced to do so many hand-jobs and "other" jobs before it just gets damn OLD??
-Yours Truly

PISS OFF AND GIVE ME MY VAGINA BACK YOU ASSHOLE.

Dear Vagina,
I'm sorry but you got yourself into this mess in the first place. YOU made me forget to tell him to put on a condom and now you're knocked up and screwy and weird and pissy and confused all the time. GOOD JOB. This once-a-week crap is getting old and I'd appreciate if maybe you could ignore pregnancy once in a while and help me put out more. I'm not asking for a miracle, maybe just one more day a week? I'm not asking for a lot here, just something a little more reasonable.
-Thank You

Having an Ugly Baby

I went for an ultrasound yesterday and they did the 4-D scan thing. It let's you actually SEE the baby's shape - eye's, mouth, nose, lips and even little tiny fingers - it was pretty damn neat. To tell you the truth though I felt like I was cheating somehow. What generation before this one ever got to see their baby's FACE before it was born? Does this not feel like cheating to anybody else?

SO, here's the thing. Ummm. Shit. How do I say this? How does one say "My baby is ugly?" Don't hate on me people, you didn't see her nose. It's gigantic, my baby has a nose that's 2/5ths the width of her entire face. Huge. Gigantic. Flat and when they showed the side view it's even crooked over and down like a witches nose. She got my husbands nose. It's one of those big flat noses that came strait from the Aztecs and all I could do was stare at it.

I'm a freak I know. I was seeing my baby's face for the first time and all I could do was stare at her nose, speechless, and think "HOLY DAMN THAT'S A NOSE!"

I'll totally love her and her nose and I'll never tell her she's ugly so don't worry, I'm not THAT much of a psycho. I'll tell her she's unique. An individual. I'll tell her she has "interesting" features that set her apart from the common girls. I'll feed her so much bullshit she'll smell like a cow field and that's that.

Maybe she'll grow into it. That happens right? Wasn't Brooke Shields ugly when she was a kid? SOME people really do have interesting faces that aren't ugly. You know, like the kind that makes you do a double take and think "Huh. She's not ugly, she's just. . . different. . . like, kinda. . neato? Huh"

She's only 3 pounds right now maybe she'll grow into it by the time she's born.

I'm betting it's Karma. My Mom and I love seeing ugly babies. Most people think ALL babies are beautiful but we know better - some babies are just plain oogly - and we get the biggest kick out of it. If we see one on t.v. or in person we get all giddy, giggly and goofy and start making our little comments to each other. "OOoooo that's a good one, poor little thing. "giggle" Maybe she'll grow out of it. "Tee-hee." " "OhmygoddidyouSEE that baby? Jesus I wonder what the father looks like!?" It sounds horrible typing it out but it's all in silly fun and only with each other and we don't make fun of handicap babies or the truly deformed, nothing like that, we're not evil for God's sake.

In polite society we OF COURSE adhere to the rule that when speaking of someones baby to anyone other than ourselves that the baby is certainly 100% beautiful. Every baby I've ever viewed in the company of it's mother is just the cutest thing I've EVER seen. I'm not a monster.

But Karma sees all I guess and now I'll have to pay. I called my Mom yesterday to tell her and she told me "OHH NOOO, you're going to have a BEAUTIFUL baby, you and Chino couldn't make anything else! She's going to be just lovely. You'll see, just wait."

I've lost her.

THE BIRDS

I've got a feeling it's a good idea I'm not a superstitious person. A couple of weeks ago black birds started showing up by the flock-full at the place where I work. I thought they were nice at first, and then they started following me.

I walked out of the door to go home around the second day and the birds hanging out by the side of the building all took flight at once, flew over and landed underneath my car. MY car, not the car or cars next to it, no, they thought my car was the best to . . congregate underneath. You can see it here in the pic which is actually a week later - they hang out there every day now. (Shittiest pic ever, my bad)

OKAAYYY so they were only really freaky that one day and after that they started hanging out under other peoples cars too. It was a pretty neato trick that first day though and I'm keeping it.

More and more birds started showing up and now every new guest comes in and asks me "What's up with the birds?" I tell them we're shooting a new Alfred Hitchcock film and if they're white people they get it. If they're Mexican I don't know how to say all that in Spanish so I just smile and shrug. I REALLY want to tell the Mexicans that we have a Bruja (mexican witch) staying at the hotel, but I haven't worked up the courage. :P I will eventually.






In the meantime I had a group of hunters on their way to Mexico offer to "take care of the birds" if I wanted them to. I told them no. They shit everywhere but I actually like having them around and it took me two weeks but I figured out what they're doing here. :P We have a cornfield that was just mown down in the back of the hotel. It gets hot as hell outside in the baking sun so they come over to wherever they can find shade. Not nearly as exciting as them trying to warn me of impending doom or being an omen, no they're just hot like the rest of us. They keep me company though and I like having them around so NO mr. hunter men, you can't kill my birdies.