I'm not a parent. I will never be a parent....well. I'm going to be a step-parent, which is totally cool, because they're basically grown, and I get to skip all the diapers/prom dramas/snotty teen stages and get right to where they're actually cool people and then I get to be a grandma.

Anyway....I strayed off topic. I'm not a parent, so the only thing I have to go on is how *I* was raised. So these.....brats....these days..... And the good ones.. Oh MY, I have to bite my tongue so many times a day.

One of the lessons I would give these people... is one that I learned VERY early in life. If you, as a parent, threaten to do something, if the desired reaction is not achieved. YOU DO IT. To set the stage: At my bakery, we give kids a free cookie. No real requirements, just a free damn sugar, sugar sprinkle, or chocolate chip cookie as a way to bring the parents into the bakery. That being said, there's this....I can't call him anything other than a brat. Spoiled. Rude. ROTTEN. At times, we will run out of one type of cookie or another. Usually sugar sprinkles, as those are the most popular. This kid.....he's got to be 6 if not 7 years old. Will PITCH A FIT if there's no sugar sprinkle cookies. I'm serious ya'll. He will scream. He will cry. He will throw whatever is in reach (once, a jar of pesto, which broke, and made a huge fucking mess. And his parents DID NOTHING).

Today, I saw them coming, and thanked the fucking gods that I'd just baked some more sprinkle cookies, since we were out. They get up to the counter, and brat-future-pampered-jr.-ASSHOLE see's there's no sprinkles. I know him. I know his name. His mother is asking him which of the two he'd like, and he's mentally preparing for a nuclear sized hissy fit. I, like a damn psychic-warrior, ask him by name if he'd rather have one of the sprinkle cookies I'd just pulled out of the oven. His mom nodded happily. He is still stuck in pre-hissy mode. I hand him the cookie, which he immediately inspects for sprinkles, as his mother tells him to tell me Thank you. He starts nomming on the cookie. Here's the damn problem. Mom tells him, "If you don't tell her Thank You, I'm going to take the cookie and eat it myself."

.......I'm sure, by this rant, you can guess what happened. He was busy licking the sprinkles off the cookie, and hides his face the FOUR times his mother repeated this statement. Annnnnnd Mom gives me an apologetic look, says ty herself, and is on her merry way. SERIOUSLY. YOUR KID IS A FUCKING DICK. AND WILL ALWAYS BE.

On the flip side, I have seen parents tell their kids the same thing.....the kid refuses, or wants to cry because we don't have the cookie they want, and the parents walk away with the crotch fruit, happily munching the cookie, while the kid cries. GO THEM!

I was walking towards the bakery one day, and there was a kid pitching a fit about something or other. I could hear him from across the store. As I was walking towards them, Mom leaned down, caught kid's hands in hers to hold them together, and all but hissed, "You are going to STOP. NOW. Or I'm taking you to the bathroom and spanking you!" Kid shut up. I wanted to give the lady a fist-bump. She looked up and we made eye contact, and she had this...guilty apologetic look on her face. I just smiled and winked, and whispered, "Mom? Is that you?" to her as I walked by. She laughed. I smiled. It was epic.

There is a huge difference between discipline and abuse. True story. I got my ass reddened a time or two (or 30). I was stubborn as fuck. So the hand gave way to a wooden spoon (broke that bitch), which lead into a leather sandal (that fucker would NOT break),and ended with me NOT doing shit to get me paddled!

I'm just saying, the point of this blog, if you're gonna THREATEN to do something. FUCKING DO IT. Honestly, after the 3rd or 4th time, everyone knows you're not going to do it.

Oh. And "counting"??? FUCK THAT. Watching parents count down....many times in a row....with no repercussions... fucking useless.

*throws hands up and is thankful today she can't conceive*

So I went to my CCW class tonight. CCW= concealed carry weapon, or the many variations of it.

It was a relaxed, chill day I FINALLY got to spend with Meaniebutt. We went riding around, looking at property around here, then grocery shopping. I LOVE grocery shopping with him! So much damn fun.

Get home, take another nap. Snuggling with ma darlin is always a high point of the day.... Wake up, get dressed, and head to my class. Of course, I show up early as shit. If you're 15 minutes early, you're late.

Class starts and I'm in the majority! 6 females, and 5 males. Which to me is pretty damn cool! The instructor is awesome, and I learned a LOT. One of the requirements of passing the class is to shoot a live gun in front of the instructor. Judging by his comments, I've have a damn good teacher (Meaniebutt). Didn't get corrected about my holding the gun, my stance, he didn't have to correct my sighting, and he didn't have to "catch" my hands once I'd fired.

Yes, I passed. Magnificently, actually. Meaniebutt had me prepped well. I even got words of praise from the instructor about my carrying my knife. All Meanie, honestly. He protects me, and in his absence, makes sure I protect myself.

All in all, a fantastic day, a wonderful class, and I'll be proud to strap on my Glock here in a few more weeks.

I know, I know. It's been ages. 20 whole blogless days, as a matter of fact! True story, I've been stupid, crazy busy at work.

What's been happening, you totally didn't ask? Let me tell you! *snicker*

I have honestly been working stupid hours at work. There's been a major upset in the company, new DM, new RM, and at our store, new store manager, produce manager and assistant, meat manager and assistant. .....it's been nuts. Everyone wants to impress everyone else. *throws hands up* I don't have to try to impress. It just happens naturally.

Valentines day was......magical. Even if I did work 12 hours. I came home to the arms of my loving man, and not to mention the plethora of old school girlie valentines gifts I'd sworn off getting excited about...ohhhh...about the 10th year I never got them. hehehehe Roses, chocolates, lingerie, my favorite beer, a delicious meal, and a card to make me melt.

Yesterday was seriously nuts at work. Which was funny, because I came home and Meaniebutt had a lil surprise for me. He is consistently bringing me lil love notes, a wild flower he stopped by the roadside to pick, or my favorite hummus. Yesterday it was a tee-shirt he'd seen and thought I should have it.



Cute, huh? Oh! And there's ma new glasses I'm spending all of next week in a class, which will be a major change. Spending 50 hours sitting on my ass, rather than 60 hours running it off!

*muwah* Hope you have joy, love, hope, and happiness with you.

Okay. So this might get a bit political/offensive. If you're easily offended or prone to bitch, exit the blog now.

So last night I was watching the Super Bowl. And of course, all the commercials. The Coca-Cola add..."America the Beautiful"... well, it brought me to tears. I thought it was beautiful, and showed us as the melting pot of a country we truly are. Goosebumps! Seriously!!!

In case you've lived under a rock, here it is, for your viewing pleasure:

It was moving. It was beautiful. I actually shed a tear watching it. (And I have again, re-watching it)

Que today. FaceBook is OMG flooded.... People up in arms about the commercial for 2 reasons. 1. The singing of the song in foreign languages. and 2. A gay couple skating with their daughter.

..............Seriously. Dude. We're called "THE MELTING POT"... Little known trivia: The beginnings of the "give me your tired, your poor" was actually a poem. Didn't know that? You should read it! Lookit me go! educating and such! It's actually called "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus.

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I thought the commercial showed how America has been populated by many nations, and how we integrate into one. We are ONE people. Have been. Will always be.

My #2 gripe about the griping....A 5 second spot of 2 daddy's....skating with their daughter. *faints dead* OMG!!! OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, seriously, I had to go back and re-watch because I didn't even NOTICE a gay couple with a kid....TWICE. It was on the 3rd viewing I realized the heartwarming family moment I'd been seeing was....*gasp* GAYSSSSSSSSSSS! Oh for FUCKS sake, people. It's a fucking commercial. And yeah. A DAMN GOOD ONE.

If a kid can have two people loving it, supporting it, and guiding it.... does it really fucking matter if it's a man and a woman, or a man and a man, or a woman and a woman?!? Love is love. End of story.

The whole controversy is driving me nuts. Really. Why hate on love???

Good fucking GAWD what a day! Got up early and went in for my eye appointment. Meaniebutt came with me, for moral support and to help me pick out my glasses frames. Hell, he's gotta look at em more often than I do, right?

Anyway. Get there, do paperwork, and the owner of the joint (his name's on the sign) is the one doing my consultation. MAN! Optometry has certainly changed since the last time I went...which was about...ohhhh.... 24 years ago? *facepalms* I know, I know, shut it.

When he heard how long it had been, he decided to do ALL the tests...the poof of air into my eyeball, the pokey thing into my eyeball...lots of read this line, now that line...

He drops a few drops of something into my eyes and I ask what that's for...he says to numb my eyes a bit. Because he's going to dilate my pupils, and that tends to sting a bit. Wait....what?!? Uhhh...can you drive after they've been dilated? No? Dude....I gotta go to work in 2 hours! Crap! So he says he'll reschedule me for that part of the tests. He did put some dye into my eyes....for whatever tests he did. The good news is my eyes are working together. When I was young, one was farsighted, and one was nearsighted. So they operated independently, and put me at risk of having a lazy eye.

Now I'm just farsighted, but extremely so. We'll nail down the exact prescription Tuesday after I get off work. Meanie can drive me home, and I'll have the rest of the night for my eyes to go back to normal.

I did pick out my frames. Let me say...another different experience than the one I had 24 years ago with the military eye doctors/glasses I could choose from. Dude helping us was pretty good...narrowing my few responses and choices of what I liked to a good selection. He handed me a pair that just looking at, I was like...NO! FFS....they're RED!!! Only hipsters and fashionistas wear red glasses. Then I put them on. They.....fit. They look good. Cute. But professional. Stylish, as stylish as I get, anyway...lol. It came down to those and another pair. Professional eye-guy voted for option A. Meanie really liked A. And *I* really liked A. So....them's the ones I'm getting.

I promise, I'll blog pics when I get them, prolly Thursday or Friday.

Oh! And I got bored last night and dyed my hair. Nothing crazy, just a bit redder than my natural color. No more grey Hey...If I'm gonna be rocking glasses, I can't be rockin the grey hair too!! FFs....

The past two days both my eyes have had that annoying muscle twitch... so much so that it's interfering with my vision.

So I made an appointment, finally, with a local eye care clinic. I go in tomorrow morning. I've not had glasses since I was in my teens... I know I need them, just haven't been able to afford them.

Here goes nothing, right? See ya tomorrow, literally.

So....It started as kind of a joke. This "Severe Winter Storm" that we had expected to get last night, into this morning. So much so that I was told by management the store wouldn't open until 9am, and no one would be there until 8am.

Awesome! I get to sleep in!! Whoohooo!!

Set my alarm for 7:15, but about 7am, I hear this pounding, like someone's banging on our door. I reach over for Meanie...and he's not there. I hop out of bed (naked) and realize that it's HIM banging on the door!

EEP! I grab a coat and open the door. He's in full-on protection mode. He was off work today, and had decided that he'd drive ME to work. Huh? He points out the door.... the cars in the lot, the road, the trees, EVERYTHING.....under a blanket of ice.

O.O Holy FUCK! I start texting upper management...Yeah, I'm seriously needed. We're gonna be a skeleton crew as it is. Take a deep breath, and off we go. We can't go over 40 mph, the roads were covered in ice. Meanie was.....magnificent. He's been driving in this type of shit since he started driving. Bless him.
We got over the biggest bridge in the area, doing 25 mph, and it was so very stressful. (Found out later the bridge was closed about 5 minutes after we crossed it)

He get's me to work a good 10 minutes before anyone else shows up. And we really are a skeleton crew. 90% of the store's associates have to cross one of the three bridges in the area....By the time Meanie got me to work, all three bridges had been closed.

As a matter of fact...even the "out of the way" 4th bridge had been closed. Poor Meanie was trapped. I spent the day busting my butt, trying to fill the shelves. Gawd we were busy. Since we were basically on an island, and the surrounding roads weren't all that horrible...all the locals and tourists came to OUR store, for lack of anything better to do.

I spent most of the day worrying how we'd get home, if all the bridges were closed. I was offered space at several of my co-worker's places. I was just about ready to book us a hotel room for the night. When one of the bridges opened.

*whew*

We made our way home, him...singing along with pandora, and reaching over to pat my leg or squeeze my hand. Me....white knuckled and chain smoking the entire way.

The roads are mostly clear (ish)...expecting another freeze tonight. I should be able to drive myself in the AM. If not, Meanie has already said he has final say, and he'll drive me if need be.

I can sum up my thankfulness and faith in the man by this text convo between me and my Mom as me and Meanie were driving home

Mom: "Just be careful, please?"

Me: "He said "Ain't skerred." It's not his first rodeo"

Mom: "I know it isn't his. But it's mine. So let me do my job and worry about my kids"

Mom: "I trust him with your life. It's the other idiots on the road I don't trust"

I trust him with my life too. And he proved again today that I can.

I'm home! And in my fuzzy pj bottoms, and the epic robe ma Meanie gave me for Christmas.

His blog made me feel better. I'm not feeling so guilty about doing nothing.....lol. I've logged a good 70 hours since my last day off. I think I shall take his suggestion of being a lump.

Better blog tomorrow

It's been a long ass day. Seriously. I thought if I got to work early, I could get out on time....maybe even a lil earlier...

Yeahhhhhh..... Not so much. My feet hurt. I threw (unloaded and put into both my freezers) a 200 piece frozen truck. 200 boxes, weighing from 10 lbs to 60 lbs, and my back is screaming at me in what seems to be German or Russian. Just because it was loud shouting, and I didn't understand it, but there was lots of phlem.... (flem? plem? ffs....lots of guttural spitting)

But guess what?!? I'm still dancing around the apartment. Why? Because I love my Meaniebutt, and this song requires you dance.

And I'm happy

I did it. I've been wanting to for quite a while. The only thing that held me back from taking down my pics were the comments on them from people who have left NN and/or left this earthly realm.... wets, ...whispers..., MD, etc. I had to take screenies of these comments, just to keep them with me...

But all of those pics were me before I was me. They were pre-me. Who I was, who I used to be.

It's quite liberating, emptying my gallery one pic at a time. I remembered when and where the pic was taken, where my mind was.

There are two pics left in my gallery, one by choice, the other because I literally can't take it down.

The first pic I posted on NN, I kept. As a kinda reminder of how far I've come in 8 years of my life. The other I've kindly asked NN to remove for me, since it's my verification pic, and apparently, I am unable to remove it myself.

I understand that with the deletion of the pic, so goes my gold shield. I get this, 100%.

I also figure, after this long....if you doubt that I'm who I say I am, I don't need to waste my time with you anyway.

So. Back to square one. I might take and post more pics. I might not. Depends on my mood. Until then.... How's that 26 year old ass lookin