Harry Potter and Danielle's Obsession, Part II

Oh how I love that Harry Potter. I know you are all tired reading about my ridiculous obsession with Harry Potter but tough shit. We've watched him grow up through out the years and boy has he grown.

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To see him in all his glory, click the link below. **NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK**

http://gossip.commongate.com/post/finally_harry_potter_shows_his_thing/photos/34790

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Oh me, oh my, look at the size. I'm impressed. I'd take hold of him and teach him how to be a man. I believe this picture was taken prior to him turning 18. I can only assume the laws in the UK differ from those here. With that being typed, do you think this would be considered child pornography?

Dumbledore - a Pillow Biter?!

JK Rowling has revealed that Dumbledore is gay. People say this gives new meaning to a few passages in the final book regarding Dumbledore and his old friend, Grindelwald. I myself was more intrigued by his relationship with the young Harry. In the 6th installment, Dumbledore and Harry spend a lot of time together. Do you think the he was trying to dumble Harry's dore?

It's a good thing JK waited until the final book was released - personally I think she should have waited until the 7th movie came out. The book series has already created major controversy in the religious community as the primary theme is that of wizardry and witchcraft. Can you imagine what the bible beaters must be saying now that Hogwarts' famous Headmaster is a butt pirate?

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia

Due to the ever changing real estate market some of us in certain areas of the settlement services industry are stuck with little to nothing to do. How slow is it? We are sitting around watching grass grow. Literally.

Friday afternoon my office was treated to a way off Broadway production of Danielle performing Veruca Salt's I Want It Now as seen in the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Elaine entertained us with her rendition of Baby Got Back. We shook what our mama's gave us. It was really quite sad.

Kibble and Bits

As I was perusing Walmart this morning I stumbled upon this tasty looking treat. I now understand the purpose of the camera phone.

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Junkie

The first step to fighting an addiction is admitting the problem, right? Well it’s taken all of me to muster up the courage to say this but I’m ready. I have a problem. I am an addict.

Every waking minute I spend thinking, dreaming, fantasizing, wanting it to encumber me like a warm blanket. The days are so long I feel that I will never get home soon enough to quench my burning thirst for it. It has surrounded all my being. It has also overtaken my dreams as it speaks to me in all those lovely voices. I run with them in my subconscious where it feels like pure, eternal bliss. Sunshine after the rain…

I have no one to talk to about this. No one in which to bear the inners of my soul. I frantically search for someone who will understand, or at least be able to imagine (without prejudice) the overwhelmingly calm sensation it has on me. The tranquility of sea.

I fiend. I simply cannot get enough. The true horror though is that I know the supply has nearly depleted. Only two to go really. I don’t know what I will do when it is all gone.

I fucking love Harry Potter and his magical little world.

Memories

At risk of getting my ass kicked, I publish this:

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~Per Olan Mills, circa 1995~

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Thank goodness we cleaned up well.

SITE UPDATE!!

I have changed the drop down in the comments section to allow anyone to comment. What does this mean to you, the avid reader? a) If you already have an account set up you no longer need to sign in to post your comments, making it easier for the two of you who actually post. b) If you don't have an account you don't need to open one to say what you feel you gots to say. This change will make it easier for those of you who read loyally or when in desperate need of a laugh (you know who you are biotches). Holla'!

Kibble and Bits

I'm still on this greyhound racing thing. I did the unthinkable today. I opened an account to bet online. Racing starts tonight at 7:30p EST.

Typing of greyhounds - There are all these great rescue programs out there were you can adopt the used(?) racers. Dogs like to fuck with you. All dog owners know what I'm talking about - your cute little pumpkin gets out of the front door and starts hauling ass down the street while you try your damnedest to chase him/her down. Understand that there is no way in hell I will get another dog (right now) but I was still visualizing owning one of those retired, unwanted, so-scrawny-it's-scary dogs in my head. What the fuck would I (or anyone for that matter) do if it got out and ran?

Mama's Is's are all getting along well (I call them my Is's - IsIS, OsirIS and AnubIS - when I leave the house I say "Kisses for Mama's Is's." I love my chitlins.). Siris and Nubis rough house together. Nubis and Isis play tug or way with the rope. It really is precious.

I have now been officially ordained by the Universal Life Church. My grandma was none too happy of this decision. She asked me what my duties were as minister. Huh? "Your responsibilities to the church," she says. I tried to pull something out of my ass as not to flat out tell her I did it because I was green with envy because one of my peers possessed something I did not. She asked if it was all just a big joke. I told her I could marry people, left out the part about baptising, then changed the subject. On a lighter note, I think I should be sainted - I've adopted as many children as Angelina Jolie.

Times are tough. I've been looking to supplement my income. I figured between dog racing and my new holy position I would be able to produce a little change. I got up yesterday morning and as I was watching my morning show, the Daily Buzz, where they summarized this article: www.phillyburbs.com/pb-dyn/news/103-09122007-1406212.html. Where does this leave me?

One Step Closer to Godliness

Boy oh boy has it been a long time?! All of August was atrocious for me at the office. Needless to say I am still recuperating. Here’s what you’ve missed (and then some) -

I’ve started Fantasy Dog Racing. Pops said he had never heard of such a thing. Well of course not and that would be because I invented it. I’m getting my jollies in the evenings by watching the dogs race (you can watch online for free at http://www.derbylane.com/ and we all know FREE is for ME!!). I’m schooling now before I head back out to the track. I want to be a pro. When we went to the Dog Track I saw this chick who you could tell knew what she was doing. She didn’t look anywhere near as good as me (not many can compare) but I have to say it was hot as hell to watch that woman in motion. I love seeing women do things that are historically considered manly. There’s something about women playing pool. I don’t know what it is. When I was younger I had to go to the Boys’ & Girls’ Club after school where I learned to shoot pool. Pops would take me up to the Cue Club when I was 12 or so to ‘hone’ my skills. I can honestly say I’ve gone out once or twice with exes to play a few racks and have left them surprised. They never thought I would win so we’d bet ‘sexual favors’ – next time I’m shooting for dough. I wanna be a hustler. That’s hot.

I felt a tinge of jealousy today when Deb (not step-mom Debbie M****** but she’s a Deb M. as well – A/K/A Evil Bride Vibe) told me she had been ordained a minister by the Universal Life Church. Being that I didn’t want to be left behind, I too applied for ordination at the Universal Life Church headquartered in Modesto California. And by ‘APPLY’ I mean I pressed the button that said ‘ORDAIN ME.’ Why become ordained? I can now perform weddings (I could already do this since I’m a notary), funerals, baptisms and other functions of the clergy. I can also begin my own ministry! Mary keeps telling me that I’m going to hell, but alas, she is severely mistaken. As the minister of my own ministry I set the rules. What I say goes in the House of Daniellism. The Universal Life Church not only ordains ministers but allows you to obtain degrees as well. I am currently looking into the Doctor of Philosophy in Religion degree. Don’t forget I was going back to school to major in Philosophy or Religion so this falls right in line with my life goals, and for a mere $100 (verses the $20k+ I would have to pay at a state university) it is way more cost effective. All I need to do now is click the ADD TO SHOPPING CART button and you’ll be calling me Dr. M******! For $69 I can obtain my Masters in Religion (I’ll pay the extra $31 for my doctorate); $59 gets you the Doctor of Biblical Studies (this is sacrilegious to me – I’ll pass on this degree); $40 for Doctor of Religious Science; $29 Doctor of Divinity; $29 Doctor of Metaphysics (for future reference please visit http://www.ulc.net/ for complete and detailed pricing and available products). There are tons of other things you can buy at this place – my favorites being the titles at only 10 bucks a piece! My name will read: E. DANIELLE M******, PH.D, TVE, AA, UPAR (PH.D = Philosophy Doctorate; TVE = the Very Esteemed; AA = Archangel; UPAR (Universal Philosopher in Absolute Reality). HOW FUCKING GREAT IS THIS?

And finally a brief discussion on someone who needs me as a life coach - Britney Spears. Her sad and trashtastic performance last night at the VMAs is all the talk around the water cooler today. She is a big ol' mess. On her physical appearance - I thought her face looked FABULOUS! Whoever spackled that goat did a helluva great job! As for her body - I didn't think it was all that bad. Granted she's not tight and toned like she once was but hell, I'd kill to have the body she was dancing(?) around in last night. I'm still trying to figure out who let her go on Dateline (with my beloved Matt Lauer) sans handlers. That was the first showing of many horrific weaves (this was pre-bald Britney and she had no excuse being in front of the camera with what looked like a dead animal on her head), plus her fake lashes weren't being properly glued on and her make up rivaled that of a cheap streetwalker. I really feel sorry for her y'all. But props to Sarah Silverman calling her kids two of the cutest mistakes you've ever seen. BURN!

Road Closures - UPDATED!

We heard that the people were late leaving the church (3p). When Mary said I could leave I hauled ass. As I was turning onto Lakeview I looked ahead and saw the flashing lights coming toward me. Thank goodness I left when I did! So here I am at home, doing exactly what I would be doing at work - hitting the send/receive button repetitively in the email while watching the procession online. Jeepers creepers the procession is massive. When the last car of the was leaving Idlewild the first car was passing the Dog Track (for those of you avid readers not familiar with the distances here, they are over 11 miles apart)(speaking of the Dog Track - we went Saturday night - the last night the dogs were racing EVER! D got her bet on.)). This thing is like a train wreck - I don;t understand why I;m even watching it. I simply cannot take my eyes off it (it's in picture in a picture as I type). Channel 8 has a live feed and all you hear are the camera peoples' comments - actually it's pretty funny. It would be really funny if the lead car made a wrong turn.

Road Closures

So I already know I’m going to hell so I’ll go ahead and post this.

Basically all major roads in North Tampa are closed from 3p – 6p for some dead cop’s funeral procession. I understand that he was some decorated guy and that he was killed for no reason but hell, I was going to work from home this afternoon and if by some stoke of God I happened to get loan documents I was gonna come back to the office to work on them. I can leave right now and go home but I won’t be able to get back if I need to. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Family Newsletter

Everyone has been asking how the newest addition to the family is doing. Anubis is doing absolutely wonderful! He's almost 5 months now and has just hit that 35 pound mark the breeder said he wouldn't go too much farther than. Here's a not recent picture of the lad taken about 2 weeks ago. He's at least 10 pounds heavier and comes just below my knee as of today.

Anubis Emmanuel Lewis in

SHANGHAI EXPRESS

Danielle Don't Do

In the late 80s – early 90s an athlete by the name of Bo Jackson (no silly, not Mr. Bojangles, but I think they were both people of color?) was endorsed by Nike. Bo played both professional football and baseball. Nike released a slew of commercials with the slogan Bo Knows. Bo Knows Football. Bo Knows Baseball. Bo Knows Tennis. (Bo now knows 20 years later nobody knows who Bo is.) I’d like to expand that concept with a little segment I like to call Danielle Don’t Do.

Everyone has things they hate doing and they’ll attempt to avoid these things at all costs unless humanly necessary. You may have a fear of spiders and alas, one day you find a big one in the house that you have to trap and/or kill. You don’t want to do this, you’d rather not, but you have to get rid of the arachnid. Or maybe you don’t swallow but there’s a new man in your life you’re trying to impress. As much as you loathe that thick, salty, mucus like substance slithering down your throat, you take one for the team and pray you don’t gag. Everyone has things they simply Don’t Do.

Danielle Don’t Do Cleaning
I refuse to take full responsibility (or any!) for my inability to keep ‘clean’. The inside of my house is a disaster with its own nickname – Danielle’s Den of Dirt, Dust & Debris. My yard is horrific and severely under kept. My pool is usually a deep shade of green (it was blue a few weeks ago but now has a yellowish tint). I never learned the concept of cleaning when I was younger for a few reasons. First and foremost, I was an only child/grandchild. I was raised by my grandmother (SHOUT OUT TO ABUELITA!) as the daughter she always wanted. As horrible as it sounds, what I wanted I got. Secondly, my grandmother worked as a maid. She cleaned houses all day and her job easily filtered into her duties at home (Please don’t call me spoiled – I may not have been taught how to clean house but I was taught how to be a strong and independent woman.). Being we can’t close real estate transactions during daylight, I had a few extra hours at work I needed to take off. As joyous as this may sound, it was not. I cleaned my bathroom. It hadn’t been cleaned since I took vacation last September. Somehow Isis got locked in there Friday night and ripped up everything she could sink her teeth into (she didn't make a sound mind you - I didn't realize she was in there until 4am).

I WARN YOU NOW - My bathroom scares people - clean or dirty. I tend to get the most shock when it's clean being it looks like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol exploded. Who would have thought me with a pink, princess bathroom?

BEFORE (with the floor half-assedly swept prior to picture taking):

AFTER:
AFTER (Now with Shower Storage!):
BEFORE (beauty products galore):
AFTER (Where did it all go?! Why in the new Shower Storage of course!):

Oh thank you, thank you everyone. You really like me! This couldn't be possible without me being single and living alone in a two bathroom house! Oh yeah, and God! No award is ever possible without God!

D's Book Club - A Clockwork Orange

I’m trying my damnedest to get through this book, I really am, but I’m only a few pages in and I don’t understand. No, I mean I really don’t understand – an excerpt below:

Our pockets were full of deng, so there was no real need from the point of view of crasting any more pretty polly to tolchock some old veck in an alley and viddy him swim in his blood while we counted the takings and divided by four, nor to do the ultra-violent on some shivering starry grey-haired ptitsa in a shop and go smecking off with the till’s guts.

In (American) English – the hoodlums have dough in their pockets so they don’t need to roll an old man or hold up some broad for loot.

This book is now on sabbatical.

Random Quote from Michelle...

Back in my good old elementary school days we learned about McGruff the Crime Dog and Me-ology. Not having kids myself, I asked Michelle if her kid was learning that stuff in school. She says:

The police and firefighters are always coming out to the rec center during the summer for presentations. About 2 years ago, Luke came home with a shiny plastic police “badge”. He was sooo excited. I asked if everyone got one and he said, “No, just me. I raised my hand when they asked if we knew anyone who did drugs. I told them you and daddy do.” After I picked my jaw up off the floor he told me how they talked to him on the side and he told them we smoke cigarettes and drink beer. I kept waiting for the po-po to bust in the door, but they never did. I think they really need to clarify the difference in LEGAL and ILLEGAL drugs.

~edited by Danielle for BAD SPELLING

D's Book Club - Brave New World, Part II

The further I get in this book the deeper down the rabbit hole I go. This book is way fucked up. It’s full of sayings and chants – the newest Orgy-porgy, Ford and fun, kiss the girls and make them One. Boys with one with girls at peace; Orgy-porgy gives release. That’s just a wee bit of sexual innuendo, don’t you think? A gramme is better than a damn. Just push that drug use.

There are a couple of things in the future that are still that same - Native Americans are still called savages and kept on reservations. Peep shows are still around (however they are now more appropriately called the Feelies).

In a nutshell
Brave New World is a satirical look on a hedonistic future where promiscuity and drug use are encouraged. The story follows Bernard Marx, a high caste loner touting the physical looks of a lower caste member. Marx’s physical ‘deformities’ cause him to be ridiculed by his peers and subordinates. Marx doesn’t quite follow the regulated lifestyle of sex and soma, causing himself to be further ostracized from the others. He manages to talk the lovely Lenina into taking a holiday to a savage reservation in North America. When requesting approval for the trip from his superior, Bernard finds the Director had also taken a romantic getaway to the Savage Reservation years earlier, only to lose his mate in the desert. During Bernard and Lenina’s trip to the old world, they stumble upon the Director’s long lost love, Linda. Linda has grown old and decrepit but more surprising than this is the fact that Linda bore a child, John the Savage, and had become the nastiest of things, a mother. Bernie packed up the clan and took them back to civilization (Civilization is sanitation, you know). Upon their return, Bernie humiliated the Director by reuniting him with his lost love, Linda, and introducing him to his son, causing the Director to resign. Marx is greeted with an obscene of amount of popularity, something he had never had bestowed upon him before. Linda passes which sends the Savage over the cuckoo’s nest. Finally, unable to assimilate to the new culture the Savage had been thrust into, John does what so many of us do when we feel like we do not fit in, he kills himself.

What I have learned:
I still concur with my initial assessment of this should not be high school reading.
Although this is a work of fiction, there are no space ships.


Join me next time when I take you back to the rabbit hole, slit your throat and push you in – D’s Book Club presents A Clockwork Orange.

Side Note: I’m scared as hell to read A Clockwork Orange. The boy was at my house last week and said the book is way more fucked up than the movie. Then I was talking to my boy JC (no silly, not Jesus Christ) and he too said the book is far more disturbing. He had to put it down and did not want to read the rest of it. That coming from JC (still not Jesus Christ, sorry) should be enough to ward me off, but I am a manly man yearning for words.

Random Quote from Michelle...

Michelle saw the 5th Harry Potter movie this weekend. She says:

I thought it was interesting that when Harry was all up in Snape’s mind, he saw his dad being a jerk. I think I like Snape b/c Harry Potter takes me back to being a teenager and he reminds me of Trent Reznor.

Right on, sister, right on.

D's Book Club - Brave New World, Part I

I had such a wonderful reading experience this week with the lovable Mr. Potter that I headed off to the bookstore yesterday in search my next conquest. After purchasing several books, I decided to start with Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. I chose this book because it was required reading in my Freshman English class. Each student was required to do a project – a movie poster – for the book. I did not read the book. I did the best I could with all I knew which was the title, Brave New World. I created a movie poster with a spaceship flying through the galaxy. I didn’t even get an ‘F’ for that project – I got a zero.

A couple of facts about the author – Huxley was born in England in the late 1800s and was nearly blind. He taught French stuff at Eton and had a few promising students – one being Eric Blair, who would later morph into Animal Farm’s author George Orwell. Although Huxley despised mass culture and popular entertainment, his influences on them are surprising. For example The Doors came up with their name through one of Huxley’s super kooky books – The Doors of Perception. He also appeared on the cover of The Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club album. In his later years Huxley befriended Dr. Timothy Leary, the creator of LSD (Leary subsequently was arrested and at one time in a jail cell next to the infamous Charles Manson). Huxley enjoyed his hallucinogens, not only LSD but peyote and mescaline as well. I say good for him! What do you think a blind person sees when they trip?

Onto the book! A few pages in I realized the book has nothing to do about space ships – it’s all about sex and drugs (before there was rock ‘n roll). In the future, people are no longer ‘born’ as they are now; they are instead ‘decanted’ from test tubes. The caste system is in full effect, dividing people into Alphas, Betas, Deltas, Gammas, and Epsilons at decantation. Children are put though immense physically and metal conditioning. For example, peeps who are destined to be iron workers are subjected to extreme heat while in the tube, thus causing them to want to work in that type of field. Some torture is extremely cruel – shocking Epsilon babies when they move toward flowers or bright colors. For years children are subjected to sleep teaching or hypnopaedia, in which they are taught to dislike others who are outside of their caste. Most people in the future are sterile and the ones who are not use birth control. The idea of pregnancy, of mother, father, or family is taboo and considered to be smut. The future holds a very hedonistic society with slogans like Everyone belongs to each other. At young ages children run around the playground, naked, playing rudimentary sex games. People are encouraged to take holiday from reality by using soma – One cubic centimeter cures ten gloomy sentiments.

That’s about as far as I am but I can definitely say I do not feel this book is appropriate for high school English. Society wonders why our youth are into drugs and desensitized toward sex. My guess – they read Brave New World in high school.

I leave you with this thought of contradictions which I can equivocate to my life:
God is, but at the same time God is not. The Universe is governed by blind chance and at the same time by a providence with ethical preoccupations. Suffering is gratuitous and pointless, but also valuable and necessary. The universe is an imbecile sadist, but also, simultaneously, the most benevolent of parents. Everything is rigidly predetermined but the will is perfectly free. ~Aldous Huxley~

The Final Chapter...

I finished the latest masterpiece by JK Rowling. Holy moly – hands down one of the best books I have ever read. I was hooting and hollering as I read it. Tears of joy and happiness streamed down my face and onto the book, wilting the pages. There were only supposed to be 2 deaths, I thought, but in total (main) 4 characters were killed off as well as what has to be my favorite magical creature.

STOP HERE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW!
Although many people died facing You-Know-Who I am only recapping the deaths of those we know.
First death – Mad-Eye Moody as introduced in Book 4 the Goblet of Fire. He takes a much larger role in the Order of the Phoenix. I thought it was sad but eh – who really cares?
The next 3 all died in battle – Remus Lupin (the werewolf hybrid introduced in Book 3 the Prisoner of Azkaban – he too takes a larger part of the story starting with the Order of the Phoenix) – this too was sad; Tonks, Remus’ wife (also introduced in the Order) who had just had a baby (awful!) that Harry was the godfather of; and Fred Weasley – one of the twins who have been there since the very beginning (His twin – George – had his ear blown off leaving a big gaping hole – oh my!). The all died with dignity on that final, fateful night.
The final human death, Professor Severus Snape. Through out the series he and our hero loathed each other but in the end - what’s this – Snape was good?! Snape had been in love with Harry’s mum since childhood and when Voldemort went after her, Snape changed sides and came to follow Dumbledore. Who knew all this time he was protecting the Boy Who Lived?
But the one that killed me – broke my heart to the point I had to put the book down and walk away (and as I type about it my eyes swell with tears) – was the death of Dobby, the house elf (introduced in Book 2 the Chamber of Secrets). When it seemed that all hope was lost, Dobby came out of no where to save the life of Harry Potter and his friends. ~squish squish~ Heartbreaking I tell you! I sobbed for nearly 15 minutes. Sobbed to the point my eyes are still swollen this morning.
Neville Longbottom, the awkward little boy found through out the entire series, bucked up and kicked ass. Mrs. Weasley got into an ass kicking duel with Bellatrix LeStange (yelling at Bellatrix, and I quote, “NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!”). Buckbeak was there – he was the hippograff Harry and Hermione saved in the Prisoner of Azkaban. Basically everyone and everything, whom Harry had helped at some point or another, came back to whoop ass when Mr. Potter was threatened. Damn I wish I had friends like these!

The moral of the Harry Potter franchise, I think, is to follow the Golden Rule – Do onto others as you would like done to yourself. I think this is a something that the majority of us fail to follow in everyday life as we are all out for our own personal gain. As cheesy and hokey as this may sound, I am now thinking about how I live my life and how I treat those surrounding me. What comes around, goes around. This is not only the basic principle of karma, but The Secret and the Golden Rule as well. Maybe they’re onto something. Just ask Harry Potter.

Dumb Asses

Oh my! Two posts in one day? You know something good must have happened.

Well it did. It’s official – LINDSAY LOHAN IS A BLOODY IDIOT!

Let’s recap the events – back in May she was tore up and fighting with her lesbian lover. Her lover left the apartment and LiLo chased after her in her Benz. After catching up to her lover, Ms. Lohan proceeded to run her car into some shrubs. I believe the po-pos found a small amount of cocaine on her. Not that I condone illicit drug use (if you can put it up your nose or into your arm - don’t do it) but she should have never had a ‘small’ amount of coke on her. If it was a small amount she should have snorted it up before heading out. Dumb ass.

Just this morning Lindsay Lohan was popped for possession of cocaine, driving under the influence, transporting a narcotic into a custodial facility and driving on a suspended license. The new charges have nothing to do with the May arrest. She was out again last night partying it up. The media says she was chasing another car. The cops did a field sobriety test which she failed with flying colors. The arrested her and took her down to the pokey. When she was searched the found cocaine on her person. Dumb ass.

What have we learned today boys and girls (hey you – in the back with the french braids)?
Lesson One: Do all your drugs before getting into the car.
Lesson Two: If you are caught ‘riding dirty’ let the police know you’ve got something on you before the haul your dumb ass to the big house.

Harry Potter and Danielle's Obsession

I know I’ve been away for a while but there hasn’t been anything to blog about…. until now…

The Harry Potter series got an entire generation of young folks (and old ones, too) into reading. I won’t lie – I myself fall into this category as a self proclaimed Harry Potter junkie. I have been patiently awaiting the release of the 7th and final book in Mr. Potter’s epic saga and finally it is here. The book dropped at midnight on Friday. Surprisingly enough I did not obtain my copy at the time, nor did I pick up a copy all weekend. In lieu of reading on Sunday I opted to watch all four Harry Potter movies currently released on DVD – Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone; Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets; Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and finally Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is currently in the movie theaters (BIG SHOCK – I’m planning on heading over to the Tampa Bay Pitcher Show to see it – BY MYSELF – the meds must be kicking in or I seriously have a wicked addiction). Sunday night I was so Harry Pottered out that I dreamt in British accents (I actually really enjoy this – someone could call me a fat, nasty bitch but as long as they did it in a British accent, I’m a’ight).

As Monday rolled around and I started jonesing for the newest novel. I decided to take an early lunch at 10a as I could contain myself no longer. I just had to know what happened to the boy that lived. I went to my favorite store, my nemesis – Wal-Mart – and searched frantically for Harry and the Deathly Hallows. SOLD OUT! Bloody hell! But I was on a mission and I would not stop until I felt the book in my hands. I started hallucinating about it – me curled up with the dogs, pouring over page after page of the ginormous book, happiness at its finest. I drive off to Target in hopes I can get it there. Lo and behold – there it was! I felt like I had just placed by hands on the Tri-Wizard Cup (from HP & the Goblet of Fire for you muggles). I snatch up the book with a few other supplies to get me through the reading – Tostitos with a hint of lime, salsa con queso dip and beef jerky – a feast of champions. Feeling like I just hit the lottery I float back into the office and put the book squarely on my desk for examination. 759 pages – jeepers this thing is a big as the bible – fortunately the print is much larger. There have been so many rumors floating around about how the series will conclude. Will the boy wizard and his cohorts live or will they be destroyed with the killing curse Avada Kedavra? So many questions to have answered. Unable to contain myself I go to the last few pages to see what will happen. DISCONTINUE READING IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW! What’s this – it looks like Harry, Ron and Hermione all LIVE! What kind of bloody bullshit is this? How unrealistic is this – everyone lives. Someone needs to die, if not Harry one of his closest pals. Then it got even worse – it looks like Ron married Hermione and spawned off some kids – Harry married Ginny Weasley (Ron’s sister and his love interest in HP & the Half Blood Prince (Book 6) and they had kids as well. Granted it gives a bit of closure being we now know what happens 20 years in the future but what a let down. Happy endings are great but everyone knows there is no pleasure without pain. Someone always has to die. I cannot guarantee this is what happens but I'm pretty damn sure. Ask again tomorrow as I think I'll be done with the book tonight.

JK Rowling promised the death of 2 main characters in this book. In my reading (bought the book yesterday – I’m on page 334 now) and have stumbled across one death. No big deal – this didn’t hit close to home like the death of the great Dumbledore (also HP & the Half Blood Prince) in which I actually came to tears. I have an idea who the other will be as well as a twist that I’m sure will reveal itself in the next 200 pages or so.

Off subject – I have this little dot behind my ear that I’ve been picking at for the least few days. I think I’ve been abducted by aliens and I now have some GPS tracking device inside my body.

No title today - just talk

We have so much catching up to do!

I’ve been on my meds for probably 30 of the last 60 days. I see the bitchiness and the impulsiveness starting to rear its ugly head. I told Mary the DM that I would start taking my meds again on August 1. She gave me a very nasty look.

My uncle and cousin came into town last week. On the ride home from the airport I asked Justin (my cuz) if he would ride all the rides if I took him to Busch Gardens. He said yes so I told him I’d take him. As this was beyond all impulsiveness, I went home and immediately took my medication. Justin is a cool kid. He’s emo which to me is funny. Every generation has its own ostracized group of social misfits. Emo is just the punk rock, gothic, or skater chic of the ‘00s. He’s got the lopsided hair cut which doesn’t fair well on roller coasters – your hairs always fall out of place. He wears leather bands on one arm up to his elbow and a glove on the other with chains and buckles. His boots jingle when he walks. He is a metal detector’s nightmare. So off I went to Busch Gardens with Justin, the epitome and poster child for the term emo, and we actually had a good time. He’s a quiet kid – probably due to the (in some ways) traumatic childhood he’s had. There were a couple of times I thought I could inquire about his family life but decided to hold off. There’s always next summer. By the way – I’m a mega-dumb ass. I didn’t get the Busch Gardens Fun Card when I went a few weeks ago with the crazies so I had to pay full price again to go to Busch Gardens. That place is a scam. $9 for parking; $3 for a bloody 20 oz. bottle of pop. Ridiculous.

Saturday we went to the wedding of year – Sylvia’s Wedding. Syl is a chick in my office that got engaged on Christmas. All we’ve heard over the last 7 months has been the drama leading up to the event. Thank gosh it’s finally over. Mary was my escort and she is a great wedding date. The ceremony was at a Unity Church, which I will have to Google some more info on at some point. I would think a Unity church would be non-denominational but there was a lot of talk about the big J.C. – not that that’s a bad thing. I thought I had actually found the church of my dreams when I looked over at a wall which I thought had a picture of Bob Marley. Unfortunately it was Jesus – I had to check. It’s quite a sight when everyone is walking out of the church and you’re walking up to the pulpit area. The pastor guy was up there and said something like, “Isn’t that a nifty picture of Jesus?” I can honestly say it was unlike any picture of Jesus I had ever seen – dude – I’m telling you he had dreads. I’m sure I’ve seen that picture on a t-shirt somewhere. When we got to the reception we found a list of the top requested songs on our table. Mary and I went through and picked out the ones that if they played we knew it would be time to go. The #1 pick – The Macarena. When the DJ played the Electric Slide she and I just looked at each other and cringed. Then he played the Cha Cha Slide. Huh? This one was new to me and somehow even more hideous than the classic Electric Slide. Actually, I think it was the Electric Slide for the short bus riders as the dances seem identical with the exception you have to hop and stomp your feet a few times and the song even tells you when to do these things. Horrible. I learned that Mary likes to wait for the wedding cake but if they don’t bring it out quick enough a Little Debbie Swiss Roll will suffice.

Good luck to Sylvia and Jason – more luck to Jason. Syl is a pistol and I pity the fool!

Sheer Laziness

When I have weekend tasks to complete, I usually get up at 7a or so and take care of everything first thing in the morning as to leave the rest of my day free. My alarm went off Saturday morning and my body told me to stay in bed. I finally got up a little before noon and scrambles into the kitchen for some grub - but alas, my cupboard was bare. I decide to go to the grocery store and what the hell, while I’m out I’ll head to the Home Depot too. It was the weekend and I was feeling lazy - too lazy to put on a bra so I opened my closet and pulled out my sticky bra. You’ve seen these things. They’re like silicon implants that stick to your chest making wearing strapless or spaghetti strapped tanks no problem. I venture off in the dead heat of the afternoon to run my menial errands, boobs stuck on. Although Home Depot is only a half mile from my house, by the time I arrived it was hot and I was sweaty. As I walked up to the store I felt an odd sensation on my left breast, it felt like the sticky bra was slipping. Yikes. I walked around the store with my arms crossed in hopes of keeping my boobs at boob level. After checking out I ran to the car to avoid any type of mishap. Once in my trusty automobile I turned the A/C on full blast to cool off the breasticles. I mosey on to the grocery store where I’m faced with a dilemma – go inside with nothing underneath my shirt or head in with my slipping silicon implants. The A/C had really cooled my chest down. I checked the boobs and they seemed to be holding their own so I head on in. 10 seconds out of the car and I start to feel the slip again. I start running into the store longing for the cool breeze of the air conditioner. I finally get inside but I’m not cooling down fast enough, they’re still slipping. I start doing this god awful chest grab in the middle of the store aisles trying to stick the puppies back in place. No luck. Again I cross my arms and hope this will be a quick shopping experience. Finally I find all my items, get to the check out line, and start throwing my groceries on the conveyor belt as quickly as I can. Unloading a grocery cart is not a two handed task however it’s quite difficult to unload a cart with one hand and try to hold up your chest with the other. The crazy bargain shopper I am I bought a massive jar of pickles (if the world ends I will have enough pickles to survive for at least a month) and had to grab it with both hands to prop it up on the belt. All the sudden the left one goes. I look down and it was like Alien or something – I had this weird lump protruding from my stomach. I tried to use my purse as a shield to no avail. Again I run out to the car and start shoveling my goods into the trunk. By the time it was said and done I had 2 pair of breasts – the ones on my chest and the new pair on my stomach. I got into the car, stretched out the bottom of my shirt, and ~PLOP~ they fall into my lap.

The moral of this story – it’s okay to be lazy but you should never be too lazy to hook a clasp.

America's Next Top Model and the Secret

Those who know me well know I have a very vivid imagination.

I work in an office complex which consists of 4 stand alone buildings. For three years now I've been gazing into this photographer's lobby during my smoke breaks, thinking one day he'll come out and ask me to model. Then one day, at the end of one really bad month, it happened. The photographer came up and asked if he could take some pics of me. I looked at him and asked, "With clothes on?" "Yes," he replied. Relieved I would not be photographed in my birthday suit I agreed. He told me he had gotten some new lighting equipment and wanted to experiment with it in a 30's style silent movie shoot. I thought that would be neat and signed right up. For three years I imagined this, saw this, lived this, and -viola- it materialized. The Secret really does work.

I was up Friday night freaking out. I've been an ANTM whore for years now. I've listened to the judges criticized the photos - this one looks dead in the eyes - this one only has one look. Anxienty sets in. I get there the next morning and decide to run with it. I head in and meet the makeup lady. I looked at her tray of goodies and... what this? It can't be.. The Wonder Wheel (I don't know if that's the right name but that's what we'll call it). For over a decade now (on and off) I've been wearing the Home Shopping Network's Signature Club A Wonder Wheel as a foundation. The people I'd show it to thought I was crazy - this thing has a slew of colors - anchorwoman blue for under the eyes; lavender for redness; yellow for something else. Before the foundation went on I'd look like Anna Nicole in the infamous clown video. But in the end my face always came out virtually flawless. Granted it was like having a mask on your face at all times due to the thickness of the makeup. It was way heavy and felt like it was melting away on a hot summer day. But all in all it was well worth it. The segment on HSN always said the Wonder Wheel was used by professionals and here we were - the hired make up lady was using the Wonder Wheel on me. How great is that? I went home and immediately placed a new order.

The photographer emailed me some of the shots he retouched. I opened the email this morning and got misty eyed. This one is my favorite. It's me as Bonnie Parker.

Life with the litter has proved to be quite interesting. It's crazy walking around the house and having three dogs under foot. Three. When the little one barks, Osiris shoots me this look like, "Why? Why did you have to bring this animal into the house?" Puppy has taken a liking to biting O's tail which makes mama's big boy a little irritated. I try to tell him he used to do the same thing to his sister when he was little but he doesn't seem to want to listen. Speaking of the herd - WE HAVE A WINNER! Actually we have two. The newest edition to my herd has been named: Anubis Emmanuel Lewis ('cause he's the anti-christ). Here's a big thanks to our winners Michelle and Debbie. Great job ladies! Let me know when you would like me to have your pizza delivered! Also let me know if you'd like to have a little dog delivered with your pizza. I'm telling you this bad boy is the anti-christ.

The Dog Remains Nameless

I'm still looking for a name for the puppy. The two big babies are Isis and Osiris. In Egyptian mythology, Isis was the wife and sister of Osiris (incest is the best - put your sister to the test!). They hooked up and spawned off Horus. I always said if I got another dog I would name him Horus (Osiris' name was picked out 3 years before I got him). Michelle had a good idea - Anubis (Egyptian god of death) and call him Newbie for short. Hehehehe. One problem - I'll have Mama's Isis, Mama's Osiris and the Newbie. I don't know if I'll think of him differently since I wouldn't call him Mama's something. I also don't think he looks like a Newbie. A Bus maybe? Debbie (not stepmother Debbie) had a suggestion of Emmanuel Lewis since I got him in Webster (and he's the Anti-Christ). All I know I need to name him soon.
Still taking suggestions!

Brats and Theme Parks

I'm ever so sorry I've kept you waiting. The crazies left yesterday and I am still in the process of recuperating. Shall we continue on?




DAY FIVE:
The title of this post says it all...
I've been going to Busch Gardens for nearly 30 years. Every time I go I'm still amazed to see how much the place has changed. What's more amazing is some of those old rides that are still in operation, such as (Feel the sting ~!!~ ~!!~ of) the Scorpion and the log flume ride (thank gosh they finally ripped the Python down). I hate the fact the dolphin show is gone. I know it's been gone but it still bothers me. Needless to say I'm all pumped up about going to Busch Gardens. I hadn't ridden Shiekra yest and it had just gone floorless. My plan was to be a total tourist. I was all ready to go in a pair of short black shorts I picked up from Walmart ($5); my bathing suit, and a wife beater. The icing on the cake - the fanny pack. Yeah - you heard me right - I was rockin' the fanny pack. Reality hit and I realize that unfortunately this excursion would be with the sickly little boy.

Bribes..

While we were walking up to the tram I offered the little boy $50 if he would ride all the rides. He said no. I then went up to $75. Nope. At 9 I would have ridden all the rides and would have gone into that freaky lorakeet cage and where all the birds fly around and bite you. The day is starting out well.

Fun in the park...

First thing on the list - Montu. All the walk up the little boy is protesting. We finally get to the line and what's this - the little boy is too short to ride. You must be kidding. Score one for the little boy. Mom wants to head over to the wooden roller coaster so we hop on the skyride. Fortunately you can't really see the attraction when you get in line. Once we neared the top and the kid saw what we were getting on the protests started again, however much milder. He pointed up at the 'track' and asked if it was a strong wire.

Next we stopped in Timbuktu to get something to drink. I'm feeling like a frozen lemonade. The little boy says he wants a coke. We get up to the teller and the little boy changes his mind and says he now wants a lemonade too. No problem. You know how it is at theme parks, no matter what size drink you buy you rarely can finish it before the next ride so I tell him that we'll share. Sounds like a sisterly thing to do. I then asked him if he was having a good time. "No," he replied. I ask if he wants to leave and he just looks at me. Hmph. But that was not the event that fucked up the rest of the day. Mom comes back with the drinks and he REFUSED to share it with me. So there I sat thirsty, the anger building up inside. Mom sees that I'm pissed and offers to get me a lemonade. Nope - I'm done. I had just taken my super hero transformation into - The Silent Bitch.

We start walking toward the log flume ride and Mom is asking Junior what would happen if something happened to her and he had to come live with me. We had to get along. She then looked at me and asked what would happen. "It wouldn't happen. I wouldn't take him," I reply. If my day's gonna be fucked up, everyone's day is gonna be fucked up (New super hero name - The Silent Vindictive Bitch). We get in line for the log flume ride where there was a Hispanic family of 4 or 5 in front of us. After a minute or so the rest of the family started arriving. They came in two waves. By the time it was all said and done there were at least (and I am not Elaine so I am not exaggerating) 11 people. All the while I am in SVB mode. Mom talks the little boy into apologizing to me. "Danielle, he has something he wants to say to you." I turn around and reply, "I don't care. I don't want to hear it." A few more minutes go by and an announcement is played over the PA - the ride has been shut down. This is not surprising to me as this is probably the oldest ride in Busch Gardens. I have pictures of me at 3 years old with my face painted in one of those logs. We head off to the Tidal Wave. The little boy actually got on this one without too much coaxing. He had to shut his eyes down the slide at the end. He actually put his head down between his legs like he was kissing his ass goodbye.

I'm still pissed but I feel like riding Shiekra would make it all better. I think what better time than now and get in line. Again there is a Spanish family in front of me. And again after a few minutes the rest of la famila comes over and starts cutting in line. They talk their mom into getting on and the grandfather as well. I don't think this is a good idea being this man was in his 60s or so. I wait in line wondering if I was going to be in the same car as the the man would would be suffering from a heart attach within the next quarter of an hour. We get up to the front of the line and there's only room for 3 more people. I hop on, thankful that something has finally gone right. When the car pulled out I noticed it had started sprinkling. When we started the steep incline change fell out of the woman's pocket in front of me. This kind of freaked me out because when I was younger I heard that if someone put a penny on the railroad tracks they could derail a train. At least they fell behind us so I was safe. Too bad for the next people. I must say Shiekra is a bad mutha'. I really enjoy roller coasters and never have I felt a sensation as the one I felt during that first drop. I felt better.

Congo River Rapids was next. This is another old one but there aren't really any moving parts. I securely strap myself into the raft thinking about how unsafe that thing really is. There's a bar in the middle that you can hold onto but I'm 5'2" and I couldn't reach. Down the tumultuous waters we go. All the sudden we hit the wall and Mom slides out of her seat and bangs her elbow on the side of the raft, drawing blood. This was unbelievable. We get a little closer to the end and hit another wall. My seat belt comes undone and I go flying on the floor, banging my leg and temple. Everyone on board was speechless. My shin still hurts.

It's lunchtime so we head off for a sit down meal. The little boy wants a ham and cheese sandwich. I get the kids meal consisting of a hot dog and french fries. We get to check out and the little boy decides he now wants a hot dog and french fries. I give him mine - the sisterly thing to do. But do I receive a thank you, a smile? Apparently I deserve nothing. Brat.

We went on the Cheetah Chaser. I thought I was going to get whiplash.

We finally get to the wooden roller coaster Gwazi. Hot damn - one ride Damien is big enough to ride. We start walking up the ramp to the ride and the little bot starts to physically protest. Absolutely ridiculous. Mom and I decide we are gonna ride anyway. We get to the top we tell the little boy to walk across the coaster and stand by the exit. More whining. He finally goes across and off we go. Mom loved it so we went again.

By now it's starting to get dark so I say we should hit a few more rides he wants to ride. We walked by the log flume ride. Apparently it had opened but now it was closed again and people were getting out of the logs and down the stairs by the slide part. If that would have happened to us I think the little boy would have died. We go back to the Tidal Wave and ride again. I started having a flashback when the little boy said he wanted to ride on the Congo River Rapids again. We didn't really get wet the first go 'round but at the end of the second I was drenched. "Again!" he says so we went again. On our final ride there were 4 Jamaican people on the boat. How funny this will be, I thought, being that Elaine says brown people don't like water. The Jamaicans didn't think they were going to get wet. We get near de waterfall, mon, and the raft turns and drenches one of the Jamaican chicks. She was screaming so loud you'd have thought she was being killed. It was great. Every time you could get hit by water the water hit her. She was literally squealing. Mom was laughing so hard she was in tears.

Mom wanted to hit Gwazi a few more times so I we did. I snuck the camera on and took a picture of us. Fuck. Is that what I'm gonna look like in 20 years?

And the only picture taken of me and the little boy. Mom cannot hold a camera straight.

DAY SIX:
Life is back to normal...
The crazies left today. I shed a tear.

FINAL NOTES:
I have figured out who the little boy looks like!! It's Montgomery Burns from the Simpsons. You be the judge. Again, I look NOTHING like this child.

Impulse Shopping at its Finest

DAY THREE (P.M)
A continuation of DAY THREE (A.M)...
The plan was for me to go to Grandma's house for the Father's Day/Grandma's Birthday Combo. Mom came over and got the little boy in the afternoon and they set off on a day trip of their own. Mom, the little boy, and Wilma went off to Pinellas County to see my cousin Michael and take a walk on the beach. I opted to fore go this trip as for reasons unmentioned I do not speak to Michael and it seems like every time I walk on a beach I walk off sandy for days. The last I left it with my real family (god that's awful) was that Pops was going to call me after they got back to Grandma's house. At 4p I still had not received a call. I called Grandma and apparently the day was done. Everyone was back home at their respective houses - a good time had been had by all, while the guilt trip for Danielle had just begun. I took the afternoon off and was able to relax in all the rooms within my home.

The crazies returned and the drama started. On the ride back to this side of the bay, Gina (Mom's sister; Michael's mom) called Wilma and said Michael's feelings were hurt because they (Mom and Wilma) didn't invite him to the beach. Being they only took a walk on the beach and were there for a half hour or so, this really upset Wilma. Mom walks into my house, grabs the phone and calls Michael. Mom yells (and this is a quote), "Your mom called my mom and said (end quote) blah blah blah." My mom called your mom? I just laughed aloud.

DAY FOUR:
To Webster we shall go...
NEVER use Yahoo! Maps to get a map from Tampa to Webster Flea Market. I went up there a few months ago and had the same problem. Basically, it doesn't tell you where to turn and you just keep on going down this scene from Deliverance with no where U-turn. No side roads. No shoulders. Nothing. I finally found a dirt road and had to do a 15 point turn to get us back to SR50. Finally we arrived at our location and the shopping begun. Within the first 20 minutes I was already making a trip back to the car. Slowing down my progress was the little boy. He had to stop and look at everything. EVERYTHING. He would pick up items and ask the vendor if they were "old-timey." He picked up an old pair of glasses and put them on. Mom looks over at him and screams, "Take those off of your head - they belong to somebody dead!" Everyone turned and looked. Danielle just walked away. A few spaces down the little boy picked up a pair of glasses and asked the vendor if they were a dead person's. We stumble across the organ sales superstore of Webster. There's a man playing and the little boy asks if he could play. "Sure," the man says and the little boy sits down and starts a playing. The people walking by stopped and gathered 'round. Mom said she should have gotten a hat to throw on the floor. It was creepy.

Then we stumble upon mu kryptonite - unwanted dogs. These people were selling designer dogs. I've seen these animals before - the cocker-poo; the morkie; the buggle; the labra-doodle (whose bitches get knocked up via in-vitro and deliver a la c-section I hope) - you know - MUTTS. They had a few crates with dogs and each crate had 3 or 4 little puppies (8 weeks old). Then I saw this dog all alone, no other puppies in his crate. He was a bit bigger than the others. Turns out he was 11 weeks old which meant shelf life was about to expire. How could I possibly go home with a conscience if I left that animal there.

And then there were three........

Meet INSERT NAME HERE**. He is a Goldmatian - a dalmatian/golden retriever (i.e. mutt).

When we got home the little boy went swimming. As I was going inside to get my cigarettes I walked by the little boy. He was about to jump so I pushed him in. You would have thought I beat him like a redheaded stepchild. He was crying hysterically and had to sit on Mom's lap.

Dinner tonight was at Pops' house. I may have missed it yesterday but I got it tonight. At dinner Pops asked Grandma what David (my in-the-closet uncle (we all think)) did for Father's Day. Grandma says they had a big barbecue. I looked up and asked if Justin (my little cousin) bought 2 Father's Day cards on Father's Day. My stepmother almost spit out her food.

Side Notes:

The little boy DOES NOT look anything like me. He looks sickly and bird like (I know I'm going to hell)

Mom keeps saying that me and the little boy have the same attitudes and dispositions. Genetics. She's now spawned another crazy one. This coupled with his off upbringing is sure to make a fine docu-drama one day.

**INSERT NAME HERE CONTEST - Now YOU can name the newest edition to the ElleRose Clan (I have as many orphans as Santa Angelina now). If I pick your name you may win something cool. Or not cool. Or you will win nothing at all. Hey - I have a coupon here for a free pizza..

It's too early...

DAY THREE (A.M):
Our tale begins around 8am...
It was getting to be around breakfast time so I asked the little boy if he was hungry. He said yes. I asked the little boy if he wanted to go out and get something to eat. He said no. I said, "But you're hungry, don't you want to eat?" "Yes," the little boy replies, "but can we eat here?" Sure, why not, I can make a bowl of cereal. He wants to watch his movie a little while longer so I head back to my room. A little time goes by and the Golden Arches pop up in my mind. So I go to the little boy and ask if he wants to go through the drive-thru. I told him he didn't even have to get dressed - I was going in my pajamas. So he gets up, gets on his shoes and we get into the car. By this time I am foaming at the mouth thinking about a Bacon, Egg and Cheese McGriddle with a hashbrown (or two) on the side. Mmmmmm. Then the unthinkable happens, "Is there anywhere to eat besides McDonald's?" WTF? It's Sunday thus Chik-Fil-A is closed leaving only Burger King. So the plans change and we are off to BK which in my opinion serves the utmost worst breakfast (2nd only to Pipo's). I am not happy and no longer hungry.

We come back to my abode and I call my grandma. Quicker than the speed of light the guilt trip starts. Pops and Debbie (the step-mother) are gonna take her dog (the 3rd J.D., J.D. III, JD3, J.D. cubed) to the groomers and they're taking grandma out for breakfast. Can't I ever get a break?

Pops just called and he seemed a'ight. I told him the little boy slept with his pacifier last night. He was as shocked as all of you readers. I am just happy the little boy slept in his own bed.

The fun starts now...

DAY ONE:
Our first scene takes place Friday night around 9pm...
I receive a call from the little boy, "Grandma Wilma wants to talk to you." Grandma Wilma says, "You can tell her it's grandma, you don't have to say Grandma Wilma." And it begins. She then gets on the phone and proceeds to tell me, "We'll be at the hotel real soon. Why don't you grab a change of clothes, meet us there and stay the night?" Uh.. No.

DAY TWO:
Saturday morning starts out bright and early...
Mom calls around 7a and wakes me up from a peaceful sleep. We all plan to have breakfast and decide Junior will hang out with me. The crew finally arrives at my crib around 9a and off to breakfast we go (we went to Pipo's - I do not recommend it - it's a lunch/dinner only type of joint). As we are waiting for the food mom looks over at me and whispers, "Don't freak out when he asks for a plastic fork." Apparently the boy will not use the metal utensils provided by the eating establishment.

As the meal concludes Mom says to me, "Alright then, we'll see you tomorrow." Huh? Tomorrow? It seems my big sistering was starting immediately, with no supervision I might add. Great. I took him to Gamespot to pick up some PS2 games. I figured that would be a good way to occupy him for a few hours. He plays Mafia and the Godfather, so when I saw Scarface I thought that would be a good choice. At the check out the girl tells me it is a mature game. I go back to my original thinking - he plays Godfather and Mafia - so I bought it. When we brought it home and popped it in the game console, I quickly realized you do not just say Hello to Tony's little friend. You also get to say Fuck you you mutha' fuckers as you shoot of rounds in people's asses. When you die instead of the standard Game Over or Try Again, you get You Fucked Up plastered on the screen. Nice. Danielle is doing well in her first adventure in babysitting.

Fortunately he brought a few games of his own so I left him in my office and plopped down in bed where I proceeded to nap for nearly 4 hours. Oops. He was fine though - technology is a great way to keep kids busy. As dinner time was nearing I decide we will take a trip to the grocery store to get the ingredients to make stuffed shells. Into the car we go but the car does not start. At some point I left my headlights on. I have no idea how this happened being I left home at 9a and it was bright and sunny. Well then pizza it is. I bribe my grandma with pizza to come over and jump my car. She meets the little boy and asks if he'll call his father tomorrow for Father's Day. The little boy says yes. Grandma then looks at me and says, "That's nice. It's very important for a father to be with his child on Father's Day. Some fathers won't have that this year." Kill me now.

After pizza the kid and I went swimming. This kid is scared of everything. I couldn't even get him to dive onto the raft and slide across the pool even thought I did it over and over again with a big smile on my face shouting "Wheee!!!" I had him building roller coasters and riding them with Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 in hopes he can man up and get on one during the Busch Gardens excursion. I am not holding my breath.

It's just past 9p and it's bedtime. He is in his room watching Ice Age and sucking his pacifier. I am not complaining - there were no diapers in his overnight bag.



Tune in next time where we'll start taking day trips to fabulous destinations such as Webster Flea Market and Busch Gardens.

T-minus 5 days...

Summer. The season on fun in the sun. Beaches, picnics, barbecues and... my mother?!

In less than a week I will be hosting the mother, the brother and the grandmother. My mother is certifiable and has been institutionalized. My brother is the reincarnated spirit of some religious freak from the 1800s. My 'grandmother' - well that's the problem - grandmother. I cannot bring myself to call her grandma. She is, has been, and always will be Wilma.

Less than a week from today I will be reunited with my brother (lots of italics with these people). I was an only child for 18 years then mom goes off and spawns something new. The kid thinks he's going to stay here at my place the whole trip. He sleeps with my mom up in the big double wide in North Carolina. That shit ain't gonna fly at sissy's house. Junior will be in for a rude awakening.

And finally, one week from today is Father's Day; Monday is Grandma's (not Wilma's) Birthday. Pops is a little mad at me because I asked to postpone Father's Day and Grandma's Birthday being this other side of the family will be in town. I have two options - piss off mom or piss off dad. Vacation is not supposed to be stressful.

Grade A

I took my first exam (I'm going back to school you know). Initially I saw a score of 88%. When I told my friend Syl she wanted to hi-five. I looked at her and said We don't hi-five for B's. There were a couple of questions I didn't remember reading in the book. I emailed the teach inquiring if this was the case. I get a snippy return email - apparently that was the case. Questions were throw out. After everything was said and done I walked with a 94%. Can I get a HELL YEAH?

However not all is good at school. You see we have this serial killer project that we have to do. Teach assigned groups and each group had a serial killer - David Berkowitz (Son of Sam); Aileen Wuernos (the movie Monster); Ted Bundy and Jeffery Dahmer (we all know what they did); and finally Gary Leon Ridgeway. Who is he you ask? He's the serial killer I have to do an assignment on. What kind of crap is that? I think teach is being vindictive. Bitch.

You missed me didn't you?

I didn't expect to see you so soon. Must be my lucky day.

I came to a realization today. You know how they say people who say they don't want to be in a relationship just haven't found someone they want to be in a relationship with? I've decided to apply this basic theory to my life. The past few years I've been classifying myself as anti-social. I have determined I'm not anti-social - I just haven't found anyone I want to be social with. I tend to stay at home and don't venture out too much - I haven't found anywhere I really want to go. I eat tons of junk food - I haven't found a lot of healthy food I like to eat. And finally, I don't want to be in a relationship - I haven't found anyone I want to be in a relationship with(?).

I honestly do not believe I want to be in a relationship. Why? Because I am extremely selfish. My little world is entitled All About D. I do not want to give any of my time to anyone. Is it because I haven't found someone I want to give my time to? Circles...

1st Post! 1st Post!

Why you wonder am I popping my proverbial blog cherry? Your guess is as good as mine.

Me: I'm 28, single and have no children. You know sometimes I almost wish I got knocked up a decade ago.

As strong and confident I may seem on the outside I am a frightened little girl. I'm nearly 30 and this is it petrifies me. Many many years ago I had a very different outlook on life. Life at that time was something very dark and painful; something I wanted no part of. I never saw myself living to be over the age of 18. Yet here I am pushing 30. I look at this (in my mind) extra time I have been given and wonder - Have I made the most of life? What are my priorities? Are they straight? Am I doing what I should be doing? Should I be doing more?

About a year ago I started (what I can call only for lack of better terminology) a spiritual journey. I was sitting here, right here in this very spot, listening to Bob Marley's Redemption Song. I must have heard and sang along to this song a thousand times but this day was different - today I understood the lyrics. Emancipate yourself from mental slavery - none but ourselves can free our minds. It was then that I realized all of this.. this thing we call life is just how we perceive, interpret, and process both internal and external events. The only battle is in your mind.

I fight this battle often. You see I live constant internal conflict. Everyone who knows me knows me to be extreme. It is black or white. I cannot see the color gray. I live everyday like I'm not granted tomorrow. I live everyday like I'll be here tomorrow so I don't have to pay for today's consequences. I believe that everyone is good at heart. I believe a person acts only when the action benefits themselves. My problem is I usually see black and white simultaneously. This leaves me over analyzing everything surrounding me. I have to codify everyone I meet, as well as all of my experiences, so they can be categorized by color. For me it is a black/white thing.

It is what it is. But what is it?