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.