A Ticket to Hell has Never Been Funnier

If hell actually exists I am probably going there. I always use to joke around about going to hell, but I never put any stock behind it. On the whole I try to be a good person, and not just to the people around me but also to strangers. I do not do it for ‘good points’ or anything like that, I just do it because I want to do what I can to make the world a little better. Anyway, back to the subject of me going to hell… So I was cracking up over a very un-PC joke that The Sig made yesterday, and trust me when I say that though The Sig is not a racist or insensitive person with the way he jokes sometimes it would make you wonder. He’s kind of like Carlos Mencia, but as a white guy it doesn’t quite work out as well for him. He horrified a co-worker of mine once because I mentioned that midst joke he called me a ‘soggy-cracker’ personally I thought the term was hilarious and pretty original. I mean half Mexican half White, soggy-cracker, pretty clever, my co-worker didn’t think it was funny however. Like I said she was horrified, I had to explain that he had a very quirky sense of humor. However as I was tearing up with laughter yesterday I thought to myself about how many people would frown at us at that moment because they lacked senses of humor, and that made me come back to the question if a higher power exists can take a joke? I have always held a strong ‘yes’ to both of those, how ever I have to wonder. I think the strange whacked out beliefs I do have are falling under question yet again. I guess this is what you would call a crisis of faith, not religious, but definitely spiritual. I have felt this crisis threatening for about a month now, since that terrible accident on the eighth took a very important person from my life. Who knew that it would take The Sig and I laughing at the short bus to really bring it crashing down on me. Some people turn to religion in their times of trial, like my mom, she has gone completely ‘end of the world is upon us’ Christian. I have never been one of those people. I do not agree with organized religions at all, but I do have my own beliefs, and at the moment I find that they are all being called into question. Interesting I started this article today with the intention of writing about how I am probably going to be going to hell in a hand basket because the higher power does not have the sense of humor that I suppose, and I end up writing something about a crisis of faith. Hmmm…I think my soul might be a little to heavy for my own good.

Heart Broken

My dad died on the eighth of July. It was a very unexpected and tragic accident at work. I have been spending my time since then trying to take care of my family, particularly my mom and my son. Mom just had to have an emergency surgery, and thank the gods she is healing fast. This is the hardest thing I have ever gone through. My dad was supposed to grow old and crazy and eventually move in with us and drive me crazy with the ‘I told you so’ he should have rightfully delivered when my son became a teenager. This accident was not supposed to happen. I have not written anything because I have nothing to write. Sure life keeps going on, the world keeps turning, but for me I am still trying to find a way to focus on something besides breathing. I still have my sarcastic observations of life and since coming home I have been doing more things then I did before I went back to Arkansas, but I just can not find my spirit. It isn’t dead it just seems to be in retreat for the moment. So I haven’t been writing, but I’m sure that I will again as soon as I can muster the will to do so.

The Fourth

Being a parent is strange sometimes. You find yourself explaining things that you never really thought about explaining before. You know the things we all learn as children and never really put much thought behind who taught us about it since we have known it most of our lives. Well, guess who probably taught us about all of the information that we take for granted? Our parents. This morning while I was fixing breakfast for my son he was telling me about what we are going to do this weekend. While he is going on and on about fireworks and bar-b-ques I notice that he has not mentioned the reason for the celebration at all. So I asked him if he knew why the fourth of July is a holiday in our country. To my amusement he answered, “It’s a holiday this weekend? Wow!” I suppose that in itself not only answered my question but it also summed up the kind of life we give our son. Fireworks + Bar-b-que = Fun Weekend, it does not automatically mean Holiday. Anyway, I digress. So I started to explain to him how our country became a country and how we became a free people. He had some very good and direct questions and I was proud that he really seemed to be grasping the concept of independence. As I went to set his food on the table I noticed he was wearing a troubled expression and so I asked him what he was thinking of. A tip for all future parents…go ahead and ask, but trust me on this, you do not really want to know. The Little Man looked up at me and asked, “Mommy, what was it like working for the king of England?” I mentally cursed the innocence of youth and then explained that we were talking hundreds of years. His response, “Okay, I’ll ask Grandma!” I am sure she’s going to love that one. Happy upcoming Independence Day everyone!

Vivid

My dreams are way to vivid for my own good. What is worse though is that I have an over active imagination. Not like the previous Fish Truck story didn’t give me away on that little secret right? My dreams are also pretty easily influenced, when I’m just riding out the dream, by some event in my life. In last night’s case my dream was influence by this book that I am reading about body snatching aliens that have conquered the human race and the Resident Evil movies. So automatically you would think it is a nightmare, right? Nope. Not this little black duck. It was interesting, I’ll give it that, and definitely more entertaining then other dreams I have had lately but it was not a nightmare. The adrenaline was there, but not the terror. I swear I think there might be a short somewhere in my brain, I do not pause at zombies but the dream where I was abducted from my house and taken to a mall where manikins chased me makes me wake up in a sweat. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Of course that whole dream made me pause with questions, the first, why the hell was I worried about manikins? They are easily broken and I was not that greatly outnumbered. Sure a whole army of zombies I’ll take on with a big crystal candy dish as a weapon, a few living dolls and I run like a track star. Seriously, they need to make help groups for people like me.

We went to see WALL-E last weekend and I can not praise it enough. It is Pixar’s best movie since Finding Nemo. The story is wonderfully heart warming and surprisingly powerful. The animation is not only good but remarkable, especially if you take in to consideration that the movie has no dialogue at all for about half of it and robots have limited facial expressions. That considered, someone deserves a freggin medal for developing characters emotionally binding enough that they almost had me crying. Very few movies have ever been able to make me cry. Seriously, VERY few. When I found myself tearing up over a animated robot I was impressed beyond words. If the tears had actually slipped over the edge I would probably go back and watch it again this weekend. My enjoyment aside though, my son adored it as well. WALL-E is the perfect movie for the entire family and I encourage everyone to go and see it in the theater. After that I am sure that you will choose to own it for yourself once it hits dvd. I know it will be on our shelf.

My Dog & The Library Police

My dog is a complete character, a perfect fit for my family. In other words she is a nuttball. I think she is enjoying this whole recover from surgery down time that I have going on a little too much. She seems to think that I need to be with her at all times though, lazy little thing that she is. If I am in our office for too long she comes to check on me, smiles her little toothy smile, wiggles her numb, and then departs to go back and nap on the couch. When I leave the house for a little while she loses it when I walk back through the door, hopping around on her hind legs, smiling, turning circles, and chirping like a bird. She has always been the happiest person in my family to see me when I come home, but I think she might be developing a few separation issues. I am going to feel guilty about this when I go back to work on the 7th. Poor little fuzz ball. She really is one of the best dogs we have ever had though. I think that is because she is more like a cat fat, lazy, and very indifferent. Now if I could only train her to use a litter box.

I am hooked on a new book series. No big shocker there. There is one slight problem to this little addiction, unfortunately. Since I had to have an emergency surgery out of the blue that has put me out of work for a month we are a tad low on book money. In other words I have already spent $50 on these books and I just can not justify spending another $50 before the week is over. Damn addictions. Why do all of mine have to get so pricey? I guess I just need to accept the facts that I really do live in this state and get a library card. I just keep telling myself, the library is my friend, the library is my friend, the library police are not real, the library is my friend. If I chant it enough in front of a mirror do you think it will make it true? I am so paranoid because I probably owe like $16 dollars to a library in my home town that I racked up when I was eleven. Amazing how the guilt of that has followed me through the years but so many other horrible things that I managed to do as a teenager have never bothered me. I wonder what that says about my psyche…hmmm… too much self evaluation. The library is my friend, the library is my friend, the library police are not real, the library is my friend.

Nutria Solution

Anyone who has ever spent an extended period of time in Louisiana knows about our Nutria problem. Imagine the biggest, fattest rat you had ever seen. Give that fat rat a stubby tail, no natural predators, and loose him in the swamps to be fruitful and multiply and you have yourself a Nutria. The government actually pays for the carcasses. One of the Sig’s uncles takes them up on this offer and often goes out and hunts them. This weirds me out a bit since he keeps one Nutria as a pet. The Nutria’s name is Newt, and my son just thinks he is the coolest thing since chicken mc’nuggets. The uncle in question, we think killed Newt's mother and then felt bad, but he found him as a baby so he took it home to raise it as his own. Newt is kind of like a cat except his favorite past time is spent playing in his fountain. He’s the safest freggin Nutria in the country, he even has his own vet! However, Newt a side, these little fuzz balls are becoming a real problem, and in exception to the price that has been put on their heads little else is being done. So I have come up with a solution! Chihuahuas. Yes that is right, Chihuahuas. Chihuahuas were originally bred as a form of hunting dog in Chihuahua. They know no fear, and believe it or not they can be pretty vicious when they want to be. Tinkerbelle has just given them all such a bad rap! Anyway, what we need to do is turn packs of Chihuahuas loose in the swaps to hunt the Nutria. Just imagine it, wild packs of Chihuahuas running loose in the swamps of Louisiana. We could even give them their own little nick name. Gator Snack Packs.

The Manipulation of a Child

I received a call from my mother-in-law last night she told me that the Little Man wanted to talk to me and then gave him the phone. Normally a phone call from my mother-in-law followed by the phone being handed to my offspring means that he has done something that he needs to have the fear of god put into him for. I did not realize that I was to become part of his stunt for the moment until long after our conversation had ended. He started to tell me about how he wanted to come home because he missed me. When I informed him that The Sig and I were not going to be home he asked if he could come with us. I told him no, we were doing adult things that he would not enjoy to celebrate our anniversary. He started to cry. I have never been able to stand it when he cries, it just feels like someone is choking a part of me. I was fortunate that The Sig walked in at that precise moment carrying a dozen roses, my favorite coffee, and a lovely card. I asked Little Man if he would like to speak with his father and he said he did, noticeably lacking any sign of tears in his voice. I gave the phone to The Sig and he spoke with our child for awhile inadvertently calming him down and finding the root of the real problem at the same time. Later at dinner he informed me of the real reason our son wanted to come home, he was trying to punish my in-laws. It turns out that he had wanted to spend the night at The Sig’s grandmothers house with his cousin but my mother-in-law told him no. She had good reason to say no, and I am glad she did, but our Little Man was very angry with her. In his anger he told her that he wanted to go home, so she called me. On the phone with me he proceeded to lie and manipulate in order to get his way and punish my mother-in-law. Little did he know things are not that easy in our family. My mother-in-law spoke with The Sig and gave him the whole back story which he in turn relayed to me over dinner. Naturally I am pissed. I will not tolerate my child acting like a spoiled brat, and his attempt to punish the adults around him is one of the most intolerable displays of arrogance that I have ever seen come out of him. It is going to be very sad when he comes home tonight only to have his butt busted, but maybe he will learn a lesson in there some where. Man, I didn’t think this BS would start until he was a teenager. Gods help me this probably means that he is going to take after me and be my reason for frustration in ten years. Why couldn’t he just take after The Sig? Damn Karma.