BAH!

OK. So on a new site that I frequent there’s a heavy debate going on about Homosexual Marriage, and they’re going on and on and on about the “traditional” family and how it’s the Gays and Lesbian couples that will degrade the American family. And how that kids will become socially inept and have problems and go to jail all because they have two mommies or daddies instead of one of each.

Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

You know what degraded redefined the family fucking unit? Heterosexual divorce, but most of all, down deep it’s parents who refuse to parent their children. *smirk*

now. What brought this on? There’s a new commercial for Hot Pockets that annoys the living fuck outa me everytime I see it. Picture this: Boy comes in and says “mom! coach wants us to eat a balanced meal before our first game!” and mom says “Oh? when’s your first game” and he says “now” and she says “oh” and grabs the hotpockets. blahblah, boy runs out, alone, hot pocket in hand.

Cute, right? Can you see what, in that stupid little 30 second commercial pisses me off so bad? WHY IN HELL DOES THIS MOTHER NOT KNOW WHEN HER SONS FIRST (or any) BALL GAME IS? And why WHY is he running off alone without her? I spend, had have for the past 8 (EIGHT!) years, every night at the ball park may-june to assure that I’m there to watch every one of my kids games – and if there’s two playing at once, I wander back and forth between fields, and if they’re at two different fields/cities, i make sure that they have *someone* there, gramma and papa, or auntie, or someone that they know to cheer them on. I have spent time working in the snack shack, I have helped sell more candy then i care to even think of, and the past two years I have kept the score books for not one, but TWO of the three teams – and will continue to do so when needed. Does this make me an outstanding mother? Maybe, maybe not. After all, I’ve avoided being put on the Board. heh. But it sure as hell makes me an *involved* mother who cares about what her kids are doing and who they’re doing it with.

I do this for whatever sport they want to play, whatever things they want to do. I sit through choir concerts, through little bug programs, through band concerts and talent shows. I get them to practices and tryouts and make sure that they have what they need – even if i have to beg borrow or steal it. heh. JUST like my parents were with me – and STILL are with their grand children. They easily put in just as much time on benches that me and the sister do, still, and will continue to do so until they simply can’t do so any longer. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. I really couldn’t – even when they’re driving me up the wall, they sure done good by me, and more importantly to me in this role of “mom” – they do better then good by my kids.

I think I’m a good mom. I’m far from a perfect mom – but I think i hold my own. And I think that if everyone out there at least tried to be involved, we’d have less inclination to scream about the family and how its fallen completely apart.

So let’s rewrite that bloody commercial the way it *should* be.

“Hey mom! coach says I need to eat something balanced before my first game!”
“got your hot pockets right here!”

and if he must run out alone? mom calls out after

“We’ll be right there, I just have to grab the camera! come on guys, let’s go watch your brother play!”

See – easy.

Stop expecting everyone else to parent your kids. You had them. Get your ass involved and raise them – no matter how many mommies or daddies there are!

—-

and don’t even get me started on that stupid Wife Swap show and the uptight bitch who assumed her children were in danger and in the presense of a “sexual predator” because the wife she swapped with was gay. yes, she said that. then had the nerve to say “i’m sorry to be so forward.” she’s lucky she didn’t say that around me – rules or no rules I’da decked the cunt. And people wonder why I get all up in arms about holier then thou bullshit spouting fundamentalists christians. *Smirks* Heaven forbid she would have learned something, instead of berating the other woman. Unfortunately the lesbian woman learned something – that people really can be that fucking cruel. Bah. Stupid people piss me off.

hrrrrrrrrm

BWAHAHAHA! Oh common – you know you wish barbie was gay too…

Dyke Dolls. I think the thing that cracks me up the most are the “accessories” they come with. “Add-ons” indeed. BWAHAHA!

Ahem.

Odd niggling for a new story. Dunno. One of those times where two words are heard and then kind of stick with ya. Wrote em down on a post-it, we’ll see what comes of them after I finish AbO.

Tomorrow night we’ve got mom’s Reader’s Night shindig – letting the boy babysit his sisters for the first time officially. This is no 20 minute jaunt into town though, so this makes me *quite* nervous. Not to sure I’m ready for this, though I’m pretty sure he is. Of course, Auntie J and Gramma will have cell phones, papa will be on standby after his meeting (or possibly during since we got about 2 foot of snow dumped on us – and still falling!) and Uncle T will be just down the road and I’ll be a whole 5-7 minutes away and I’m gonna call him 82 times during the night to make sure everythings ok and that he and his sisters are DEAD or DISMEMBERED or something because you know that could TOTALLY happen and the guard dog who would lead anyone to the family jewels – assuming we had such finery – is worthless for being a big baddass guard dog, so I’ll have to call to make sure they didn’t get her all riled up or let her go so she could come running to find me and then bark some secret coded Lassie-like message so I can make myself look like an idiot going what they shoved the pup in the well you want me to follow you and then everyone will point and laugh and i’ll spend the rest of my life in this nice little padded cell where they’ll bring me juice in a plastic cup and only let me eat with spoons because surely I would dig my way free if given a spork….

*inhale*

Obsess and overprotect much, me? Naaaaaaaaaaaaaah. I’m handling this growing up thing JUST fine. Honest.

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Well, then!

So. I’m contemplating redesign again – but not total, just a little bit. maybe. i don’t know. just something I’m mulling around. *L* I really like this layout, so perhaps I’ll just keep it longer.

bah.

Anyway! Got highly motivated this week! Yes! I read Steven King’s On Writing and wow. Talk about getting inspired. WIth his typical down to earth style, I realized a whole bunch of things – not the least of which were:

He writes the same way I do. Or rather, since he was here first, i write like he does. *chuckles* down to the same 2 revisions and a polish!

You don’t have to have an outragous vocabulary to succeed! This is one of the things that I fear the most. When I tell a story, I tell it simply. This does not make it a bad story. In fact, it might make it a better story then if someone else had gone through and added a buncha 5 dollah words! So. I rock. In conjunction with that is that

The first word that comes to mind, no matter how rude, crude, simple, otherwise, is usually the best word for the job. Don’t say “have to deficate” when you *mean* “haveta take a shit, man.”

Adverbs are not your friends! but Even the masters such as King cannot get rid of all of them. *grin* And if it’s the tell tale of a novice writer to have so many adverbs? I’m doing better then I thought already. Whee!

And the scanned copies of his manuscript and then the handwritten edits? Mine don’t look so bad now. *chuckles* They are very, very similar.

So yeah. I finished the book in 2 days, and then spent the next day and a half finishing the 1st draft edits on AbO. Yes. My handwritten edits are done! I now need to transfer them to the doc file, and get them to mom and TBF for their readthroughs. Both are total grammar police, and will catch all the ones I missed. They’ll also catch the plot holes, though I think I filed in all the glaringly obvious ones.

Not only that, but I began my research into agents to query. I’d rather find a professional to guide me through these upcoming waters of freaky publishing. So. As soon as the edits are done and off to the beta readers, I will be formulating query letters, and beginning my stack of rejections.

The short exerpt that I turned in for the local reader’s night wasn’t chosen, but mom had a poem chosen to read so I’m gonna try and find a sitter so that I can attend with her and listen to her read.

And then next year, I’ll show em. I’ll have a copy of AbO in my hands, and and thumb my nose behind my advance and royalties check.

[my buddy S would be so proud. THAT is confidence talking, hm? Yeah.]

In other news – my picture was in the paper thanks to mom. *grins* She announced my graduation, and there’s a picture of the whole family there with it. The pup’s bus driver wants to bring it by and have me autograph it for him. Hee!

Heh.

Mom will be so proud….

Bettie Boop

Who ‘s Your Inner Sexy Cartoon Chick ?
brought to you by Quizilla

(Betty Boop was always one of mom’s faves. *g*)

Kids! Mine are better’n’yours! Ha!

Well, they’re funnier, at least. *L* So – today, I spent time running around with AuntieJ and the youngest of her horde, including Miss Diva whom she was babysitting. We ran around town in a very chilly -17 degree weather, and generally had a good time. Especially when Miss Ladybug was given a stuffie for her upcoming birthday, and she and buglet got suckers at the bank. Miss Diva was sleeping at the time, so didn’t get one. Buglet almost didnt get one EITHER but his auntie (that’d be me, for those who lost track *L* ) insisted! And he loved it, as you can plainly see. *g* And doesn’t miss Diva look spectacular in her pink fuzzy coat? We thought so too!

Then. THEN.

I arrive home and soon it’s time for my own Miss Thang’s bus to bring her home. I head the doors open, so go to the front door so they know I’m here [the pup’s ride will not drop the child off unless mom or another qualified adult is home.] and who do I see prancing up along the walk as if she owned the world? Why, none other then the Queen Pup – complete with a bright yellow crown declaring such! But that wasn’t the funny part! She looked up at me and said “I’m not carrying my backkack mom!” and sure enough the driver, a nice and friendly young man whom all the kids adore, is walking right up along the walk behind her, with all her misc. crap in his hands. I say “well, I see that – and why not?” and she just GRINNED, and the DRIVER answered….

“Because she is a QUEEN, and QUEENS do not carry their own bags!”

Blink.
He then hands ME her things, grins real big, waves, and returns to the van and drives off. While I? am simply DYING LAUGHING. Like the pup doesn’t have an OVERINFLATED EGO already! OMFG. She just sashayed herself right on in the house with the BIGGEST shit eating grin on her face. Fuckin priceless, I swear.

Then – proof positive she’s SO my kid? She picks out a movie to watch,and inside all the disney flicks, she choses Van Helsing. Right on. *heh* I’m so proud! *sniff*

One would think the hilarity ended there, no? NO! A few minutes later, the boy comes bursting into the house. He then tells me that he has a dance tonight, and he didn’t ask the girl he wanted too [whom he’s adored since he was 6 months old] because he couldn’t catch her ALONE, instead she always had her gaggle o’girls around her, so he’ll just ask her to dance tonight at the dance.

[insert sound of mommies heart breaking HERE. SOB.]

So I ask him what he’s gonna wear, and we talk about it, and I suggest a different pair of pants and he says. HE SAYS. “Yeah, but mom? these pants equal ‘bad boy!’ and bad boy? equals CHICKS!”

CHICKS! my son called them CHICKS!

And then he says “and I need my gel, because hair down? geek. hair back? i’ma stuuuuuuuuuuuuud muffin!”

omfg. OMFG.

THEN! THEN! I got revenge. “Don’t worry, babe – I’ll get you some cream for that zit when I go to the store.”

“A ZIT? OMG IS THAT WHAT THAT IS? MOM!!!!”

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Ahem. Chicks always win.