I have to admit, I was really frightened this weekend.  I thought ... well never mind what I thought.  Just suffice it to say that I have a "I have a headache, it must be a brain tumor" mentality sometimes.  As it turns out, I think it was all due to a medication mix-up ... mine.  :^p  "What a maroon!"

So I'm feeling better, finally.  I still have this lingering "cold".  I have no idea what's up with that or how long it's going to take to get over it.

Just thought I'd let y'all know, what happened this weekend wasn't anything serious .... well, maybe seriously stupid.

Thanks so much for all the caring, concern, energy, thoughts and prayers.  Y'all are amazing and it helps more than you know.  Love y'all!

When I was at the store today I was passing the candy aisle and I saw an entire wall of Peeps.  Every color -- yellow, purple, pink, white -- chickies and bunnies.  My eyes glazed over and I could hear the little voice in my head say, "You will buy Peeps in bulk.  Must have Peeps!"  I entered the aisle hesitantly.  I'm not supposed to eat Peeps.  They're full of sugar.  Too much sugar makes me dump.   Dumping ain't nuthin nice!  The first time I dumped I honestly thought I was dying.  Ugh.

Okay, so dumping is a great reason not to listen to the voice in my head.  Ahhh, but the voice is clever and says, "Buy Peeps in bulk.  You only have to eat them one at a time.  They keep forever.  Buy Peeps.  Must buy Peeps"  Truth be it told, I always break down and buy at least one package of Peeps every year.  I'll eat a couple and then toss the rest away.  Ohmigod!  Just thinking about crunching through the sugar coating and getting to the soft marshmallow and then the sugar mixes with the marshmallow in your mouth so you get the mix of crunchy sugar and soft marshmallow ... *blink, blink*  *drool*

Then I saw this ...

Sugar-free Peeps?  That's just wrong!  And get this.  Three Peeps for a dollar.  Three?  You can buy a pack of a gazillion for a buck.  Because they're sugar-free you only get three for a buck?  That's just wrong, too.  No self-respecting Peepisseur would be seen with a sugar-free Peep ... unless it was just to show as some bizzare conversation piece or sumthin'.  Disgusting!

Well, not so disgusting that I didn't grab a pack of pink Peeps before I checked out.  I ate one on the way home.  One when I got home and the rest, are in the freezer.  I know, I'm begging for trouble.  I'm tellin' ya, Peeps are the heroine of the candy world.

A group of Mr. Man's family visited over the weekend.  We were all hanging out around the dining room, talking over each other, etc.  After hearing about the kidney function test results nightmare, Mr. Man's sister asked:

SISTER TO MR. MAN:  So ..., if it turned out that Friday needed a kidney, would you have tested to see if you were compatible?

MR. MAN:  Wouldn't you.

SISTER:  Why sure.  But, she's my girl!

MR. MAN:  No, she's MY girl.

SISTER:  No, she's YOUR baby, MY girl!

MR. MAN:  Whatever.

SISTER:  So, would you?

By this time most of the group has stopped talking and they're waiting for his answer.

MR. MAN:  Well, she already has my mind and my heart.  Why shouldn't she have one of my kidneys, too.

Silence ... dead silence.  Then the whole room starts beaking out in laughter.

Mr. MAN'S NEPHEW:  DUDE!  You've been watching too many soap operas!

And that he does ... every day, The Young and the Restless and The Bold and The Beautiful.  AND he yells at them.  *rolling eyes*  Of course, because I'm such a smartass, I can't resist telling him, "You know, Mr. Man ... they can't hear you." To which he replies, "I know.  If they could, they wouldn't be messing up so bad."  Giving him my best, "ohmigod, you're crazy" look.  "Oh, okay ... might be time to lighten up on the Lithum and the Vicodin, babe."

You know, when he's not drunk or just being mean spirited, he's pretty funny.

1. Homicide :: BANG, you're dead. *blows on finger*
2. Divisive :: rabblerouser
3. Flash :: flashback ... the LSD kind, not the movie kind. Not to say I did LSD.  I'm just saying ... people who did LSD have flashbacks.  Just the other day ... no, wait, that was ten years ago ... wait ...  *blink, blink*
4. Steaming :: smokin' hot
5. Crunch :: Snap, Crackle, Pop's poor relation
6. Look out! :: George of the Jungle -- "Watch out for that tree!"
7. Anticipating :: Heinz Ketchup =^p
8. Slim :: Pickins
9. Navel :: Lint Receptacle
10. Help :: "I get by with a little help from my friends" - Beatles -

You know the drill.  "Rules are, there are no rules." There are no right or wrong answers. Don't limit yourself to one word responses; just say everything that pops into your head.  You can mutter there or mutter along with me in my comments.  ENJOY!

* My last first kiss was Anjelle.  YAY!  Who will be my first kiss this time? *

Tonight, I woke up startled, looked around and was immediately panicstricken.  I said to myself, but aloud, "I don't know where I am."  Then louder, nearly yelling to anyone who might be around, "I don't know where I am!"  I stood up and started for the door and reached it just as Mr. Man came running in from the other room.  He grabbed me by the shoulders; my knees buckled.  I fell against him and started crying, "Something's wrong.  I didn't know where I was and I feel really, really weak."  He led me to the sofa, brought me something to drink ...

then went back to his chair and resumed working on his Sudoku puzzle.  =^S

Whatever.

What happened to me, that's not normal, right?  Should I be concerned?

The rest of the evening I've felt lightheaded.  Now the lightheadedness <-- [is that even a word?] seems to have lifted but I have a headache. 

I'm not asking for a medical opinion ... I'm just saying ... that's not good, right?  I've never had anything like this happen to me.  I have never, ever not known where I was.  Very strange.  Is this MS ... anyone?

** I'm also having trouble typing ... that I know isn't normal.

Not that first kiss.  Y'all were hoping for another Forever Love entry, weren't you.  Nope.  Another Forever Love post is coming soon, but today, it's about y'all.

I'm liking this St. Patrick's Day-ish layout.  When I come to my blog to read my comments, the taggie and just to see if it's loading okay, there's something I see that always makes me smile.  The "make a comment" link now looks like this:

KISS ME - Irish [comments]

When someone makes a comment, it then changes to indicate how many comments I've gotten.  The first comment changes to this:

1st Kiss @}-'-,--

Okay, I know it's just a link change and I'm not really getting a first kiss but -- every time I see it, I can't keep a big smile from taking up residence on my face.  It tickles me to find out which one of y'all gave me my first kiss.  I like it so much I might try to always make "kisses" a part of my comments link.  Because it tickles me so and I'm a graphics geek, I'm thinking about making a graphic for it.  If I do, I'll add it to this post.

Sooooo ... who will be my first kiss today?

Yep ... still. 

See my big red nose --> =O( 

I have fever now which I didn't have the previous two weeks. *pout*  I'm more congested than I was last week *pout*  I can't seem to clear my throat.  *pout*  I've lost two pounds and am now below 110 lbs -- I'm not pouting about that but it's not the way to lose weight.  I'm not hungry.  *frown*  [Yes, Paul, I ate a little something anyway]  What the heck is this?  Whatever it is, it sucks.  =Op

I really want someone to take care of me.

I was remembering when I first started dating my second husband in 1978 ... not the beater, the cheater.  In the first two weeks I was dating him, I caught a bug of some sort.  I was soooo sick.  He called and I didn't want to talk to him.  Half hour later he was banging on the door.  I dragged my sorry butt to the door and let him in ... then went back to bed.  He took my temperature, put cool cloths on my forehead, etc.  Then, he wraps me up in a blanket; carries me out to the car and takes me to his house.  He put me in his big ol' bed with HUGE posts -- like in a fairy tale or something.  I fell asleep.  When I woke up, there he was with a bowl of soup.  He helped me sit up.  He tried to get me to eat and I didn't want to.  He held the spoon up to my lips and he said, "C'mon, little bird, open up"  The way he said it was soooo endearing ... so I did.  He took care of me like that for five days!

All through our relationship, whenever he had to coax me, he would always preface it with, "C'mon, little bird ..."  Thirteen years later he's telling me that he'd rather kill me than give me anything in the divorce settlement ... and he meant it.  I have that affect on men.  When they love me, they really love me.  When they hate me, they want to kill me.  What's up with that?  lol

*sigh* 

He was a remarkable man ... in the beginning at least.  You see how they are?  That's how they get you ... then once you're got their job is done.  Just kidding ... well, kinda.  Lots of men are like that -- they don't keep doing what they did to get there, if you know what I mean.

Funny, that I would have such a tender memory about Mr. Devil Incarnate.  Damn .. I'm must be very, very sick.  I'm so sick I even wish Mr. Man was here to take care of me ... that's assuming he WOULD take care of me if he were here.  But he's not here ... haven't heard from him all day ... don't have a clue where he is ... don't care ... dragging my sorry butt to bed ... buh-bye.

Every time I come to my blog, the first thing I look at is the Sloganizer at the top of my page. 

I found The Sloganizer on Sinja's blog, Battle Ready and immediately knew I had to have one on my blog.  It was love at first sight ... with the Sloganizer, not Sinja -- that took a couple sights.  *grin*  The Sloganizer appeals to my cocksure, "I'm incredible" Happy Bunny attitude.  I'll admit it, I think I'm special and not just because I rode the short bus to crazy school x^p  <-- (true story that I'll blog about one day)  What's so special about me?  C'mon!  Have you met me?  No?  That's kinda sad. 

*snicker* 

Maybe I should have entitled this entry, "Warning: smartarse blogging.  (Hmmm ... could be the title of a future blog.) 

Before I so rudely interrupted myself, I was saying, I adore the Sloganizer.  It makes me laugh and laugh because I'm just a fun loving girl ... and I'm fun ... and I'm loving ... and I'm a girl. Three out of three!  SWEET! 

Some of my favorite slogans so far:

The Incredible, Edible Friday
Come to Friday and let's get it done!
Friday comes to those who wait.
Leggo of my Friday!
I'd sleep with Friday.
Feel the magic of Friday.
On the eighth day, God created Friday
Friday, better than chocolate.
Friday's blog, tested and mother approved.
I was a Friday's blog weakling.
Fall for Friday
The world's favorite, Friday's blog.
Friday's blog because I'm worth it.
Friday's blog, the secret of women.
Every Friday has a story.
You know when it's Friday's blog.
Friday's blog keeps going and going and going.
Step into the light with Friday's blog.

Slogans by: Sloganizer
   The Advertising Slogan Generator

So far, this is my favorite ... I think it says it all:  Ooh la la, Friday!

I'm telling you this stuff is addictive. *reload, reload, reload*

We hear about unconscionable acts all the time on the news.  People gasp and say, "OH, but isn't that awful?" and go about washing dishes or channel surfing or blogging.

As a society, we are so detached and desensitized.  The news is full of horrors going on every day.  Some of the highest rated shows on television, like CSI, show gruesome things that many of us [notice, I said us - me included] have become very curious about.  Seeing an autopsy has totally lost it's "Ewww!" factor.  But there are crimes that we as a society cannot and will not give cursory attention ... crimes against children.

Last night it was reported that a six week old baby girl, Diana Nelson, of Bogalusa, Louisiana was in a coma after having been beaten about the head, burned with a cigarette lighter and her tiny little body riddled with Xanax.  I cried then, I'm crying now.  This precious darlin's short life ended so brutally.  What kind of monster commits such an atrocity?  In short, a family friend, the babysitter.

I'm often heard to say that I'm sugar and spice and sometimes nuthin' nice.  People don't know what I used to be capable of.  Under the influence of drugs, I'm sure I'd like to spill the blood that bitch.  Clean, all I can do is cry. 

Baby Diana breathed her last this afternoon after being removed from life support. 

I must warn anyone reading this ... if you don't know about my issues with God and would be easily offended if I said anything against him, close this page down now.

I wish I could pray.  I wish I believed in a God so that I could believe praying would do any good.  Poor tiny soul.  Did she even know what was happening to her?  If there is a God, was he merciful; did he take her little spirit out of her so that she wouldn't experience the savagery of what was happening to her?  See, I want to pray.  I do.  I hate just sitting here blogging about it.  I'm angry, I'm hurt.  Of course, this precious little angel didn't deserve this. So why?  WHY!? 

I know someone is going to tell me something about free will - blah,blah, blah.  Bull! I don't buy it.  I'm not going to apologize for any of this and my Christian friends know that I respect their faith -- and they respect my pain and anger.  They pray for me too, which I truly appreciate.  I just can't forgive Him.  I won't.  Who am I that it would matter whether or not I forgive Him or not?  A  frickin' nobody.  My hand is written on His hand, my ass.

Miracles happen all the time!  I don't' believe that God has a hand in miracles if he can't save his most precious.  Or those who are good and faithful servants, like my mother.  Yeah, yeah ... did anyone think I forgot about what happened to my mama?  I still contend, that if the power of the Lord could part the motherfrickin' Red Sea, then why can't the power of the Lord have eased my mother's pain or STOPPED that animal from not only taking Baby Diana's life but torturing her in the process.  This infuriates me. 

You know the worst agnostic there is, is one who used to believe when an event so egregious occurred that it toppled their faith.  So it must not have been faith in the first place?  Whatever.  If there is a hell, I'm bound there, I'm sure.  I'm nearly certain that if there's a heaven, God isn't going to call me to his throne, shake his finger at me and call me a willful child. Okay ... enough God bashing.

Now I'm going to bash the media -- those bastards.  They thought it was news worthy to broadcast a picture of Diana's itty-bitty little burned leg -- so tiny it was almost lost next to the hand that was pointing out the injury. 

I don't guess it matters how much I rage, or cry or write about it -- there isn't any amount of any of those things that's going to make this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach go away very soon.

Too sensitive to live among wolves?  No, I think this rage is justified. 

I found a fun thing over at Fliva.  It's a widget that asks you lots of questions.  You answer them, seriously or humorously and post it on your blog.  Then people who come to your blog can not only read your witty answers but ask you witty questions to which you'll give your witty answers.  Go ahead ... ask me anything ... you know you want to.  Nothing wrong with my ego today.  Example Q&A ...

Q.  What is the perfect invention?

A.  It's a toss up.  Perforated toilet paper or velcro

I'm going to be putting a permalink my Fliva in the side section so that it can be accessed at will.  =^]

I feel a little tired today.  I think I have a Humpty Dance hangover.  =^p   And, I still have that darned cold.  This is going on three weeks.  Ugh.  I'm going back to bed.  Yay!