Boston Kisses

Boston Kisses
Originally uploaded by Butterfly Bliss.

I'm still here, taking it one day at a time. Life has been crazy, busy, weird, and stressed. What else is new, right? Puppies with fractured elbows, mother-in-laws wanting to move in with us, ear infections, strange rashes from unknown allergic reactions, broken teeth, pulled teeth, school starting, home school curriculum, and a new job.

Sometimes when life seems like poop on a stick, I just look at my kids and furkids and they put it all into perspective for me.

*Run around with wild abandon kissing others.
*Eat anything you want, who cares about the hips.
*Take long naps, eat, and then take another one.
*Spend lots of time grooming and pampering yourself, even if you don't have a boyfriend or anywhere to go.
*Don't worry about tomorrow, it will come soon enough. Just demand someone pat your belly and feed you cookies.

America's Drunkest City

Today Forbes posted a special report on America's drunkest cities and according to their research Milwaukee is the drunkest city in America. I am not surprised. We have like eight bars for every one corner in Milwaukee. The first thing people ask me when I tell them I live in the Milwaukee area is, "So, is that like the beer capital or what" When I found out that The Husband's company was moving us from San Diego to Milwaukee nine years ago the first thing I thought of was Laverne and Shirley. And lots of beer bottle caps.

I've never seen a city have more bars. I've seen ten bars on the same side of the street and only like six blocks separating them. I think Wisconsin invented tailgating which is another occasion to knock a few back. What goes better with deep fried turkey and cheese curds? Beer.

Every time I go to the Milwaukee Zoo I see at least five people who are intoxicated. I'm not sure I can blame them. I often want to get drunk after a family trip to the zoo.

Wisconsinites love their food and their beer, not to mention every other kind of alcoholic beverage. And if the food is fried or on the stick. Well that's just a little piece of heaven. One thing I've noticed since moving here is that Milwaukeeans find any possible reason to celebrate with a plethora of edible delights, the least of which are cheeses, meats, and pastries. Then there's the booze. You can't forget the booze. How else is one going to cook their brats and make cheese soup?

When it comes to getting drunk at a kids birthday party-or baptism-Milwaukee leads the way. You're having a hang nail removed? That's call for a party and three kegs. You adopted a new dog? I'll order six cases of wine and four twelve packs of Leinenkugels. And for those of you who hate the taste or smell of beer, you'll really gag at the smell of it being brewed. I avoided driving to downtown Milwaukee while pregnant with LiL' J because the smell was enough to make me puke. It took me four years to get used to that smell. The stench wafts through the air and assaults the nose. It's nasty stuff. And for some, that smell is GOOD. Almost nostalgic.

I've had a few people tell me that smell brings back memories of childhood in Milwaukee. I grew up with smog. Lots of smog. Tourists were told it was the "marine layer". Um, no. It was smog.

And it smelled a lot better than the scent of fermenting yeast.

I'll give Milwaukeeans this though. They sure know how to have fun. And make a kick-ass danish.

Random Thoughts

Yes, I missed Thursday Thirteen. I'm a little busy here nursing an injured dog, making sure he doesn't jump around and hurt his leg, or eat his poop when he goes in his kennel intead of outside. My poor baby.

I've had a lot of time to think and ponder lately. About nothing really important along with the heavy "wow, man" spiritual groovy type stuff. Today though, I feel like just rambling about all the things I've been wondering about lately.

First of all, I seem to have a new stalker. He followed me from flickr and if leaving me nasty, rude, and dumbass comments because he has a I'm-a-total-jerk-loser-whose-insecure-about-my-short-stature-and-manly-looking-wife complex isn't bad enough, he tried to spread his ignorant stupidity to Vinny's blog and leave sarcastic comments on one of my kids baby pictures. He must be a stupid man.

He had two different flickr accounts obviously and it seemed every time I turned around there he was. What a freak. He apparently thinks I'm some irresponsible pet owner because I allowed an unforseen accident to happen to my dog and I didn't make sure I had thousands of dollars to pay for said unforseen accident. What a clown.

Phish. I think the man has a death wish. He must have, because I'm about ready to go loco on his fugly little ass.

Mean people suck. You just never know whose watching and reading your blog. It just might be your neighbor, your boss, or one of millions of totally unstable asshats in the world. Do they really have nothing better to do?

Anyone seen my pepper spray?

On to my next random thought. Is it unreasonable to expect a frog to swim? See, because I was watching my husband spend hours playing Frogger on the Xbox 360 which he might need to chain down to insure it's still around as I'm selling anything I can to help pay for my piglet's ongoing vet bills and he was so insistant on making sure he got those silly little achievements unlocked, that if he wasn't coming to the rescue of those lady frogs just right quick enough he'd bail out and start all over. Is it possible to train a man to clean the bathroom with that much persistance and passion? I digress...

Anyone seen my stun gun?

He's getting all flustered when the frog keeps drowning. I mean, really. It's called F-r-o-g-g-e-r. Why is the dang thing drowning when it jumps into the water anyways. Yeah, I know, there's all kinds of varieties of frogs, but I highly doubt the African tree frog is the kind that's going to hop through traffic and over logs for a bug. What's the fun in that anyways? It's a freakin frog, can I not expect it to at least froggy paddle it's butt across the river? It drowns the second it goes into water? Zee frog should be able swim through the water and the real challenge will be avoiding getting side-swiped by a log. Now, that would make more sense.

Can't you just see their thumbs madly smashing the controller, arms together and waving up and all over as if pretending they're flying a kite somehow does something for their game, "Come on frog, swim, jump up, swim, come on, up, up, up, almost there...oh $%^& there goes its head.

Stop looking at me like that. I'm not deranged, I'm just a little cooped up lately.

I think I'll end with one last random thought. How is it that soda manufacterers have somehow brain washed people into thinking that diet drinks that taste like old people candy or lemon pledge actually taste good. Snap out of it people. Diet soda is bad enough on its own. And don't go trying to convince me otherwise. We all know that if you drink something often enough you'll get used to it well enough to the point when you take a swig your facial expression no longer looks like you've just seen Janet Reno naked.

Now we have this Diet Pepsi Jazz crap? It's poo. Richard bought the strawberry creme because he's such a sucker for any new or novel product out of curiousity. I relented and tasted some. How they ever got that rancid stuff produced is my first thought. I shouldn't be surprised I guess, Kathy Lee Griffin actually has albums out and Ice Cube even had a hit song. Do people actually want to drink DIET colas that takes like artificially flavored popsicles?

Why? Anyone seen my fly swatter?

It's OK, it's them that should be ashamed. You've all become victim to their little chemical trickery. There should be laws against selling drinks that taste like poo. We can all stand around drinking our Jones, Izzes, Sprechers, and Stewarts while flinging bottle caps at their eyeballs.

Anyone seen my car keys?

I'm going to go wash my mouth out with soap now.

Foto Friday

Crazy Grandma
Originally uploaded by Butterfly Bliss.

That is my crazy grandma and my sixteen year old son. For those who just had a baby boy, yes, they do grow in a blink of an eye. Now J is just about 6 feet. He's taller then any of the males in both of our immediate families. He's a genetic anomaly.

Sometimes he it was just yesterday that the hospital actually LET me leave with him. Just yesterday that I nursed the little guy and gave him baths in the sink. It was just yesterday that I watched his first steps, played peek-a-boo, and taught him to ride a bike.

But it feels like a thousand sleepless nights ago too.

Now on to the grandma. She's more like a mom to me then a grandma. I'm an only child and so was my dad, who was murdered at 20 years old in the streets of San Diego. She is a coal miner's daughter. A daugher of the Applachian mountains. She was raised dirth poor and is one of twelve kids. By the time the girls were six years old they had to be at the table making biscuits for a family of fourteen by 5a.m. In school she only got through the 5th or 6th grade. Yet, she's one of the smartest woman you'll ever meet. And fiesty too. When she and my grandfather were in their early years of marriage he'd go out and drink hard liquor and like a fool he'd come home being gruff and one time he tried to hit her. She laid him out with an iron. Knocked him out cold. Taught him two things. Never hit a lady. And do your own laundry.

She's also one of the kindest most selfless person in the world. She's sort of sassy too. She'll tell dirty jokes that will make Howard Stern blush. She has a huge heart and would do anything for you, but she wasn't one of those cookie baking, sweet old lady grandmas.

Here, I took grandma to the family cemetary in Whitesburg, Kentucky. I tried to take a sweet picture of the two. She hates her picture taking and she's threatening to come punch me out.

Sheesh, grams. Behave yourself! And put some clothes on, will ya?

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about Melissa1. This week, God used a terrible accident that happened to our 3 month old puppy to teach me some spiritual lessons. One of them is that, if I'd be so devasated at the idea of losing this little furry gift, and be willing to do anything I could to keep him and help him, how much more does God love me by sending his Son while I was helpless in sin? How much more should I be daily reaching out to others in compassion and love? Taking nothing for granted. Loving my neighbor and helping anyone I can, in whatever way I can, brings me one step closer to being more like Christ. 2. I have realized also this week that no matter how much I want to beat myself up for "what ifs", "I should have knowns" or "If had just.." it doesn't change a thing. Sometimes, stuff happens. It's just that way. I am too hard on myself, even when I don't expect the same of others. I have to give myself a break and stop being such a perfectionist. 3. I have almost more online friends now in my life then "irl" friends. I care just as much about them as I do the ones I see. Some of these online friends have been a part of my life for over 6 years now and they mean the world to me. This week I feel I've made a few more and I don't care how weird people might that is. 4. I've learned today that a community of strangers online can do more to uplift and encourage someone then you'd ever know. It's a funny thing, this internet realm. There's the good, the bady, and the ugly. But when it's good, it's very good. I've seen clear examples of more loving and truly caring people then in some of my "Christian" circles. What does that say about the church? 5. I tend to avoid getting into group memes and other blog groups because I often get behind or procrastinate. I used to be the one too that would organize these kinds of things and I'd get burnt out. I'm stepping out of my social cacoon and letting you all get to know me better. If I slack, you can kick my ass. 6. I don't usually swear. Is ass a swear word? I don't want my kid saying it, but sometimes ass just works better then booty or bum. I mean, come on. Cut me some slack, all ye those who like to judge. 7. My knee is really hurting me. I've spend more time online this last few days answering emails, doing research on vet care, grants available for us, updating Vinny's site etc., then I have in the last few months. Which is probably why so many of you were emailing me to ask if I had died and what happened to my great snarky, sarcastic sense of humor. The "I don't know" troll living in my house ate it. I think I will need to go on glucosamine tablets like my dog or stop sitting with my knees folded. Either that or I' m just getting old. 8. I have to lose 30lbs or so. To some, they say phish, 30lbs, what's she bawking about? Well, dears, my butthighs now have their own apendages and my rolls have rolls. Stop rolling your eyes. It's true. When you're almost 5'5, smalled boned and 155lbs like me, you'd know what I mean. For once in my life, my arms are even looking chunky. I blame the husband. It's the damn midnight runs for chocolate, custard, shakes, fries, and other junk food. I was a vegetarian for 8 years and started graving junk. He must like me big or he can't say no. He gives in to easy. What a sucker. Now look at me honey. Even when I was 120lbs a year and a half ago my ass had it's own zip code. Anyone want to be my weight loss buddy? 9. I haven't been to the farmer's market ONE time all this summer. I'm disgusted with myelf. And my lame excuses. *It's too hot to go.-True, with the heat index it has been record breaking around here like most of the U.S. I mean, I thought I moved AWAY from California heat? *I just spent most of our grocery money at the store. -Well, dumbass, you know the market's on Wednesday, stop doing that! 10. I'm talking to myself on my own blog. Sometimes I do that. I do it in real life too. I don't answer back that much though. 11. I've taken more pictures of my puppy lately then my kids. I've been assured that's probably not that abnormal. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. 12. I have to go back to work. Not only do I have tons of vet bills to pay for this next year as Vinny heals, we're buying a house soon. I'm going to be a homeowner! I will even blog the process and let you all vote on decor. Well, some of you can vote. 13. This was my first Thursday Thirteen and I made it through. Yay, now I'm going to go nap before the pup needs me again. Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

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Rough Times

I know I'm overdue for an update. Sorry guys. Something terrible has happened to our Boston Terrier puppy. A neighbor dropped him and it fractured his elbow on both sides of the growth plate. It was over $3000 in surgery. We traded in a trip to Disneyworld to save his life and his arm. He's worth it though.

I started a blog for updates and fundraising. I never thought in a million years I'm be schlepping money for a pup, but I am. I plan to continue donating to other organizations in the future after Vin's all better. And a word to the wise, if you haven't already, get vet insurance.