Cows and People...I've changed my opinion of both

Yes, cows. I always assumed they were the big slow animals that made my house stink growing up. You husk corn, take them the husks and they eat it, usually while dropping whatever they ate earlier on the ground behind them. Ew. And people, well, I had just come to realize that most of us don't really give a hoot about much of anything if it doesn't directly relate to us. Yes, myself included...I'm not Mother Teresa here.

Well, this past weekend I was at my sister in law's house, helping her clean her garage. This is in preparation for my Neices graduation party which trust me, will necessitate a post of it's own. Anyway, we're pulling out of the drive way (to be good citizens and take the things from the garage to the local donation box) and the approaching car was flashing it's lights. We assumed that there was a deer or a cop or something ahead. I'm jacking my jaw as usual, and Deb shouts "oh hell, that's what he was flashing about!"

I'm clueless as I was paying no attention. I wasn't driving, I didn't need to pay attention, so shut up.
"Huh? What'd you see, what are you talking about?" was all I could say. I couldn't think about too much or I would have lost my train of thought on the conversation I was having.
"You mean you didn't see the big black cow in the road?" she asked with some sort of shock in her voice. She's known me a long time, she should know I don't notice a whole lot if not pointed out to me, as she just did.

Keep in mind, she lives on a State Route, semis are always passing, but it's also a slightly rural area. So, while cows in the middle of the road aren't necessarily typical, it's not unheard of either. So she starts flashing her lights at the oncoming car, as to avoid having incredibly fresh hamburger strewn across the roadway. (ok, that just put a really nasty picture in my head, if it did you also, I apologize.) We were pulled over, getting ready to back up and let the guy that owns the cow know that he had an escapee. This woman actually pulls over, rolls down her window and asks "Are you guys ok, is something wrong?" People opinion changed. She actually pulled over to make sure we were ok, and not just flashing her to warn of oncoming surprises. Both Deb and I were pleasantly surprised at her willingness to stop and help strangers for no reason. Kudos to you unknown lady!

So we pull into the drive to let the guy know his cow has escaped. My sister tells me to roll down my window and call to the cow so he'll follow us up the drive. What?? I had to try really hard not to laugh. I had never heard that before. I roll the window down, and Deb proceeds to to call to the cow with the clicking noise you make with your tongue when calling a pet. I'll be damned if that cow didn't actually pay attention and start coming towards us! So I too, start clicking my tongue and calling to the cow to "come 'ere". Yes I felt like an idiot, but that happens a lot to me so I'm kinda used to it. We get the attention of the owner, and try to tell him what happened, and that cow trotted right past us, and went right back into small barn opening that he had gotten out of. Well, never seen that before, I figured we were gonna have to get out and try to corrall this bad boy back to the barn. I was really happy about that, since it had been raining all day and everything was a muddy mess. So I guess cows must be intelligent after all.

So I wonder, if when they are deficating in front of us while we feed them, if that' just their way of saying "ok you stupid human, you fed me now go away."

Pretty effective if you ask me.

Dear USCIS (Immigration) YOU SUCK!

What was I thinking? How could I have the audacity to fall in love with a Canadian? Hmm...that's what the government seems to asking me. My hubby, Kelly, has been in the US, LEGALLY, for almost 10 years. The first 5 or so, he was here on a work Visa. Totally legit. Then he met me, and we married 2 years later. Upon marrying me, he could then apply for legal residence through marriage. That's when we started jumping through hoops, and have been doing so for almost 3 years now.

The first application we had to fill out an obscene amount of paperwork and send anything and everythin we had to prove we were actually together. I'm not talking regular stuff like statements and such. They wanted receipts from gifts we had bought eachother, cards we gave, ticket stubs from movies, love letters, wedding pictures, honeymoon pictures, cards that friends had given us at the wedding, Christmas cards that had been sent and addressed to both of us, wedding invitations, wedding program...the list goes on and on. Good greif they had more personal stuff from me than I had ever given anyone!

We had to have a meeting with a bitch of a lady downtown and try to prove to her we were truly in love...lol That woman was the nastiest, most cold hearted person I've ever met. She asked if I had the original copy of my divorce. I had it...and she TOOK IT! Not a copy, my original divorce, and told me I had to file some bs form to get it back from the government. WHAT??! It's my divorce, not his. I WAS BORN HERE! The divorce happened before I ever even met him. **side note here...I still have not gotten that divorce decree back..

3 months (as least) and $5000.00 in attorney fees and application fees later, he's approved. Ohhh but wait...2 months later and still no green card in the mail. The dumbasses at USCIS wrote our address wrong on the envelope and it was never delivered. WTF. Our address is written 10,000 times on paperwork you have, and you STILL can't spell it right...idiots. 2 more months and the card finally arrives.

2 years later...yup, the whole fiasco again. When you file through marriage, you have to file every 2 years for 7 years to prove you're still together. Whatever. Another 2000.00 in fees and another stack of paperwork and personal mementos proving we've been together...anniversary cards to eachother and from family, receipts for anniversary gifts bought...ridiculous.

And today I get an email from the attorney...the government wants more proof before they will approve. Financial records showing joint accounts and utility bills showing co-habitation. ...which I have already sent...twice...

Really, now I can see if he were from a country where the US has had problems. Or if he hadn't lived here before. But for Crying Out Loud he's CANADIAN!!! He lived here legally for 5 years prior. So we are going through all this bullshit, paying all this money just so we can say he's here legal. Meanwhile there's hundreds of thousands of people here illegally getting all the benefits that we are having a hell of a time fighting for. Go after those slackers! We have done everything asked and paid a stupid amount of money for you to say...hmmm I'm not sure.

So yup...I'm a little irritated to day. What a joke US immigration is...

Zumba...how I love thee

I've been on a weight loss ride for quite some time now. Although I'm mostly in pit stop mode...hence the lack of weight loss. I do believe I've found at least a small boost in my efforts. I started taking Zumba classes at the local studio where my kids dance. If you don't know what Zumba is, by all means let me explain.

Picture a room full of adult women shaking their asses like nobody's business. Throw in buckets of sweat, some whooping and hollering, and some totally kickin latin music...ta da! Zumba! Now I love to dance, so this class is freakishly fun for me. Since I don't really know most of the people in the class...there's really no fear of making a total fool of myself. And I'm sure I'm making a total fool of myself. My hips find the Latin rhythm and have a mind of their own. My arms get in on the action too, flying up and making their own moves to correspond with what my hips have decided to do. I swear the only downfall to this class is the fact that I can feel the extra poundage I've put on shaking around me. Eww. That and it's only 1 night a week. I need MORE Zumba! 1 class a week just won't cut it. I leave work 15 minutes early just so I can get to class on time.

Hopefully my new found fondness of 'shakin what my Momma gave me' will pay off with dropping numbers on the scales. I have a beach vacation coming up soon, and I'd really like to take a lot less of 'me' with me.

Go find a Zumba class...NOW!

The Peanut Butter & Jelly Theory

OK...I wrote this a while ago and decided I should share it here. It's a bit lengthy and I even edited it down a bit. But it's a good theory...enjoy

Never in a million, ok a billion years did I think my life would be changed by a sandwich. But life throws you curveballs, and if you're lucky, you get a delicious nugget of wisdom tossed in there too. And that's just what happened to me...

I'd been swimming in the dating pool for a while, and was casually seeing 2 different guys. I liked both of them and had a good time with both as well. Things were going well, until guy #1 (g1) started thinking he wanted to start seeing me on a more 'serious level'. Whoa boy, I felt that twinge of oh wow this is great, mixed with the unnerving urge to run away fast and far. I had told very few people of the goings on in my personal life. But there was one of my very close friends that I kept up to date on a daily basis. He knew the in's and out's of each relationship, and my feelings about both. I was torn. I wanted to get more serious with g1, but wasn't ready to give up g2 just yet. Somehow this friend of mine managed to listen to me, really listen, instead of just smacking me upside the head like most people would (and probably should) have...hence the reason he was one of the very few who knew the whole story.

He went on to tell me that all guys, and relationships for that matter, are like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I had g1, who was kind, loving, romantic, sensitive...all the gooey stuff that chicks dig. Those qualities, he informed me, were consistent with the jelly side of the sandwich. Then I had g2, who was rough, playful, sarcastic, strong...the stuff that challenges you and makes the relationship exciting. Qualities that are more aligned with the peanut butter side of the sandwich. I, of course, represented the bread that wrapped around the combination of the two. He then asked me if I had a choice, would I take an all peanut butter sandwich, an all jelly sandwich, or would I find myself making the perfect combo of pb&j goodness. I immediately said I'd take the combo. I was then asked why I would settle for anything less in a relationship. POW!!! That simple explanation hit me like a ton of bricks. It all made sense, and I knew what I had to do.

For the next few days, all I could think about was what he said to me. I had one guy full of jelly and one full of peanut butter. I just had to see if I could find the opposite component in each one. PB guy totally surprised me by making a pillow bed in my living room floor and making a little carpet picnic for us to share. He just wanted to chill with me...Hello Jelly!!! My Jelly guy, spiced things up by out of the blue tackling me and telling me I couldn't get up, that I wasn't strong enough. He then proceeded to prove it...Hallelujah Peanut Butter!! So I was pretty much in the same boat, I just needed to wait to see if I could evenly spread the PB&J to fit my taste exactly. After a few weeks it became clear that my PB guy's jelly moments were very far and few in between, while Jelly's PB moments seemed to come more freely and often. So my jelly guy's request to get more serious just naturally happened, and PB faded into the background. That jelly guy, who's name oddly enough rhymes with jelly...Kelly, became my husband a year later.

So I now have my perfect Peanut and Butter and Jelly relationship. I've shared this theory with my husband, and the whole story with it, and he finds it incredibly cute. I've also shared it with my sister in law, who has passed it on to my 17 year old neice. She thought it was silly at first, but then she thought about, and now applies it to each potential relationship. And the friend who came up with this amazing theory...? Still one of my best buds, and still knows everything about everything having to do with me. This theory changed my life, and I will be forever greatful to him for sharing it with me. Now...his theory that the world would have no problems if it weren't for women....we're still debating that one...

My Peepdom...Yes we're that hokey

Friday nights in my 'hood usually consist of my best neighborly friends getting together for dinner and inexplicably funny conversation. The group of us started calling ourselves 'peeps' (short for my people) when we discovered it was very embarrassing to one of the children. I mean, is there a better reason to do anything, than when it embarrasses your kids? I think not. So here's a rundown of the Peeps. Getting to know them will make the future stores infinitely more interesting.

Mary - Stay at home mom to 3 boys who are as mischievous as they are adorable. She has 5 kids total; the oldest being a 21 year old boy followed by the only girl at 18. The three boys are aged 7, 5, and 3. Mary has been affectionately dubbed the Godmother by us since the neigh bor (not liked by us) said she was our cult leader and we all had our heads up her ass. We still get a big chuckle outta that one.

Linda - Single mom of my oldest daughter's best friend. She lives right next door to Mary. By far the loudest and most vocal of our group, but that's one of the reasons we love her. She's always the one to keep Mary's head attached when the boys are slowly sucking out her brain. Being the single lady in the Peepdom, she keeps us entertained with stories of her...um...after hours life.

Jen - A relatively new member of the clique and is one of the funniest people I have met in my life. She's Puerto Rican and has no problem making fun of herself. She's a corporate Travel Agent, and I believe she's in a supervisory position. Being so, she's frequently jetting off somewhere warmer and nicer than our crap Ohio weather. I've noticed recently that I so adore Jen's personality, that I have started to pick up on her mannerisms. I'm not stalking her I swear...

Pete - The first guy to be officiallly 'Peeped'. Pete is Jen's boyfriend and they live together 3 houses around the cul de sac from Mary. He's every bit as funny as Jen, but with a deliciously dry sense of humor. These 2 have been together a loooong time, but both have done the marriage thing before so they're kinda 'over it'. I actually went to High School with Pete, but we didn't run in the same circles. He's a pastry chef...a very tall manly man pastry chef. And he's a really good pastry chef at that. We freqently enjoy salivating over his creations.

That's the core group of us. There are others that gather at deck parties in the summer where the alcohol flows freely, but this group gets together almost weekly. Between us, there are 7 kids between 3 and 11 that gather together (in a separate room of course).

Our conversations are some of the craziest. Last night we were discussing the first person to insult someone by calling them a 'douchebag'. You're insulting them by calling them a vaginal cleansing bag. People, this was just one the convo's we had.

So when I post something about Friday nights get ready, 'cause it should be good.

*Nope...no laptop net yet...

Does Rosetta Stone make a 'Bad English' tutorial?

My job...I love it immensely. But it frequently requires me to talk to people that haven't quite mastered the English language yet. I've become masterful at understanding thick Texas drawl, deep Cajun inflections from Louisiana and the Northeastern-ers 'ah' for 'r'. Canadians (my husband being one) sometimes talk fast and throw in more 'eh's than I'd care to count, But they are understandable. My Australian calls...I could listen to them all day. Occasionally I only catch half of what they say, but if you laugh when they laugh...all is well. Oddly enough I can understand the international calls from Germany, The Nehtherlands, Italy and even Japan. Thirteen years doing this, and I still have the most problems with foreign Americans.

Their accent mixed with the lack of correct grammar is baffling. The more you say "I'm sorry could you repeat that?" the more exasperated they get, and they just talk faster. I've found myself more than once doing the old 'yell and they understand you better' trick. Yeah, that doesn't work. And it gets better when they hand you off to a brother that 'speaks better English'. The sound of my phone banging on my desk mid call is an indication that their English is no better. And you know what...the vicioulsy loud banging does not even phase them.

So Rosetta Stone, if you could somehow make a CD that would teach me that porty pive is 45, and sees-yeero-sebin is really 607, I would be eternally greatful.

...and no...the laptop still isn't connected to the net...

I'm officially tech-challenged

The kids got a laptop for Christmas from their father, with the understanding that I would get wireless internet so they could fully use it. Right...It's now April and I still haven't gotten the laptop internet ready. Got the wireless router...not working. Then my mom tells me "You need the adapter to plug into the laptop." Seeing the utterly confused look on my face, she leads me to her computer and lets me know "it's the little silvery thing plugged into the back there".
Finally I understand.
Months go by and I finally remember to get the adapter thingy. Uh-Oh..I need the admin password to do this? My ex set it up at his work, and they gave me a user thingy with a random password. This was written on the back of a piece of paper that has since disappeared into the bottomless void of all things lost in my house. So I bring the thing to work, and my brilliant bossman somehow hacks into something and wipes out my password. Pretty sure I don't wanna know how.

Last night, among my chaos, I'm trying to hook this thing up. No luck. How was I to know that the cd to install was supposed to go in my Desktop, not the laptop. Ugh. The call to mom to goes out. She's done this before, no problem. Big problem. She can't figure it out either.
"Did you know it had a router installed?"
"uh..a what? No."
"Do you know where your cable modem is?"
"Your kidding, right" This woman has raised me and taken care of all things techy for me and has the audacity to ask me this?

Two hours later, still no hook up, my mom has no idea what the problem is, and I now have no internet access on my desktop either. Marvelous.

So tomorrow the laptop will come in to work with me again, with all peices I've managed to collect, and my brilliant boss will again save the day.

I love my job...