I may be going insane...enjoy.

WHY I SHOULD TAKE MY MEDS


Warning: Poetry created by Stacey during periods of over caffeination, hyperactive insomnia and/or manic cycling may include disturbing imagery and may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

I’m bossy .
I’m rude.
I walk around in the nude.
I might pass gas
And blame it on you.
I think I have fleas
And possibly mange.
I’m a little bit loony
(completely deranged).
I’m 800 pounds
And was raised in a barn.
I’m very foul mouthed
And most likely armed.
I have unmanageable hair.
I’m ungrateful and needy.
You can try to pet me,
But please don’t feed me.
I bite. I have rabies.
I’m kind of a nightmare.
If you are disabled
I’ll probably stare.
I stole your boyfriend.
Ha! I confess.
I lied when I said “I like your new dress.”
Remember last week?
When you weren’t at home?
I went into your closet,
Tried on all your clothes…
Commando. I rant.
I go on wild tangents.
I flunked anger management
And punched both your parents.
I’m scared of old people.
I really hate gerbils.
I laugh like a psycho
When I throw rocks at squirrels.
But really, I’m sweet.
Just give me a chance!
I’m quite a catch.
Now, would you like to dance?
And by dance I mean fight.
I’ll use my best skillet
To knock out your lights.
I’ll grab a few eggs
Shreik like a banshee whose nuts
And fry up an omelet
Made with your skull guts.
The End.

DISCLAIMER: Stacey does not neccesarily endorse views or ideas expressed in this poem. Specifically Stacey does not support, violent acts committed with frying pans or otherwise, morbid obesity, consumption of human brains, firearms, boyfriend theft, ogling the disabled or throwing rocks at small woodland creatures. Stacey is not responsible for side affects associated with reading this poem that include, but are not limited to: emotional distress, feelings of disillusionment (involving your hopes for Stacey’s future as a sane, functioning member of society), sweating, fainting, vomitting, head shaking , paranoia, or social anxiety disorder. Have a nice day.

Overlord

I am my childrens' overlord.
I say they're not hungry,
But probably bored.
I decide that flip flops
Are not proper for winter
And they're not to squirm
When I pull out a splinter.
Yep. That's right.
I'm the boss
And you bet they know it.
When the grass grows too long
I'll make'em mow it.
With a snap of my fingers,
They'll fall into line.
They'll scrub their hands at dinner time.
Yes, I'm the head honcho.
I make the rules around here.
I run a tight shi...Oh, whats that dear?
You went outside and picked me some flowers?
You'd like to stay up another hour?
Well, I suppose it won't hurt to skip your shower.
Aww, thanks for the hug sweetie.
Will you look at this face!?
No, I won't tell your dad that you didn't clean your plate.
Now run on and play.
I love you too dear!
Where was I? Oh yes.
I run a tight ship around here.

By StaceyB

So last weekend was Sidney's 13th birthday extravaganza. I took her and carload of giggly, loud, gossipy, also soon to be teenage girls to the skating rink. This was the third "skating" birthday party Sidney has had and at the previous two I skated as well. This was okay because those other times, there were oher parents skating too. This time around, with the exception of two other parents (who left pretty early in the evening) I was the ONLY adult on skates. Luckily Sidney didn't seem to be too horrified at the prospect of me skating alongside her and her friends so I just went for it. I like rollerskating and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let a bunch of skinny jean wearing emo teenagers ruin my fun. It went okay. There was one girl who didn't know how to skate and spent the entire time in the food court. I kinda felt like it was my motherly obligation to sit with her and keep her company......buuuut, I really wanted to skate. Hey, I never said I was gonna win mother of the year. I did spend a good 45 minutes just trying to help her get comfortable on her skates, but to no avail, so I felt I'd done my part. SO, I skated. They play way too many games that took up alot of the free skate time though and at one point they did a "sock hop" where everyone took there skates off and danced on the rink. That lasted for like three songs!! LAME! Towards the end of the evening, after making my way around the rink a few times, I stepped out of the rink onto the carpet to make my way to the bathroom and wham! A skinny little punk with inline skates who was barreling his way out of the rink cut me off and clipped my skate. Both feet went out from under me and I landed hard on my rump in front of what seemed like 800 13yr. olds. It was brilliant. I must have also tried to catch myself with my right hand because i slammed it down hard enoug to bust a blood vessel and sprain my wrist. I spent the remainder of the evening in the car.
It hasn't deterred me from wanting to skate though. Sidney had so much fun that she wanted to go skating again on Sunday. We took Jordan and she brought a friend. Since Sunday is family day I got in half price :) We have decided we are going to try to go every Sunday, because its good exercise and the kids want to learn to skate better. Sundays are good because, first (and most importantly)there aren't NEARLY as many teenagers there, secondly its just not as busy, and thirdly adults are skating. Plus, it is kind of entertaining!! Remember that skating rink guy who worked at you local skating rink when you were a kid? Or even that guy in your grade who was a super good skater? You know the guy I'm talking about...he had all the moves. He made skating look so easy, he could switch from going forward to going backward more smoothly on skates that i can on bare feet. Plus he could moonwalk..and twirl in little circles landing on the toes of his skates. That guy was amazing...in the dim lights of the skating rink that is. When we were at the rink on Friday i observed one of these guys, probably about 15 or 16, weaving in and out of preteens like a snake through grass. He sorta resembled Napolean Dynamite, tall and lanky, curly hair, acne. I was thinking, this is probably the only place he feels like he is cool. Here, on this slick blue floor, under these disco lights, outdated pop music pumping in his ears, he is a god. Have you ever wondered what happens to those guys? Do they end up moving to some country where roller skating is actually a proffesion? Do they get a gig working at Sonic corporate headquarters training carhops? Well I happen to know what happens to them, because they were all at the skating rink on Sunday. They grow up and get regular jobs and wifes and have kids of their own who they then drag to the skating rink on Sundays so they can whip out all those old moves...and yes, they can still moonwalk on skates.

Grapefruit face

Today I worked for a Doctor who spent all afternoon giving old ladies papsmears and testing their anuses for fecal blood. It was rad. I had one old lady tell me that I have a lovely complexion and she wanted to know what my skin care regimen is. So I will use this blog to answer her question.

Dear Old Lady,

Firstly, thank you so much for commenting on my complexion. It is so nice to recieve a compliment every now and again. You wanted to know what products I use in my skin care regimen and the truth is I use nothing. In fact I never wash my face...like ever. Okay, maybe occasionally, but I wouldn't say that I do it with any sort of consistancy or frequency. I like to keep my skin guessing. Next, I don't drink enough water and I mostly eat very unhealthy food. I tend to squeeze anything that even remotely looks like a blemish and I do it with enough ferocity to often times give my self a bruise in the process. I will follow that with maniacally picking at any scabbing that forms until a what was a very small wound now looks like leprosy. I usually start each day by trying wipe off the previous days eye makeup with the side of my index finger. I then reapply copious amounts of foundation to cover above mentioned scabs as well as freckles. I may reapply throughout the day as it rubs off, or I may not give a crap. I drink three cokes a day, eat Mcdonalds for lunch and sweat too much. I then fall asleep that night with whatever makeup that still remains clinging disgustingly to my face. So there you have it!! Follow these simple steps to a much less than flawless complextion!!

Yours Truly,

Person who you thought was a nurse, but isn't

Old people are super blind. I had a lovely outcropping of pimpledge on my left cheek and an actively oozing puss volcano on the side my nose, plus several healing scab things in various locations...and my pores are huge, my face looks like grapefruit peel.

I think I can, I think I can.

So our mornings usually go like this. The alarm goes off at at 6:45 am, by which point there will be no trace of Sidney in the house, other than finding every light still on and 8-15 text messages from her on my phone(Good morning!, I am on the bus, it smells like b.o. on the bus, in english, fight in hall!, some kid just farted on another kids head, our science subs boobs r so big they look like 18 boobs stacked on top of each other). I getup, head to Jordans room and turn off his box fan (rainman can't sleep without his box fan). I then pick out his clothes for him, make him some breakfast and do my best impression of a reminder alarm while Jordan does his best impression of a snail.

It happens like that, every single day, like clock work. It happens like that whether he is with me or his dad. The kid is pokey and likes his sleep. Today, Jordans dad calls me and tells me a surprising story about their morning together. He said his alarm went off and, as usual, he gets up and heads straight down the hall to Jordan's room. Today, however, Jordan's fan was not on and Jordan was not in his bed. Jon said his first inclination was that Jordan had been kidnapped. After a brief search of Jordan's room, Sidney's room and the bathroom, Jon found Jordan in the kitchen, fully dressed, making himself breakfast. He says he felt faint at the sight. When he relayed the story to me, I asked him if I had somehow been transported to another dimension or an episode of the twilight zone. This is the same child who is constantly whining,"I don't know how", or, "I need help". I can't even get the words,"get started on your homework" out of my mouth before he has countered with, "I need help". It can be somewhat infuriating for all of us. He will insist that he needs help on a task that has been fully explained to him three times. If someone refuses to help him with a project that we know he is fully capable of doing himself he has designed a routine to try to weasel in Sidney. He will sneak into Sidney's room, generally with a peace offering of some kind (letting her use or have some toy of his that she likes), and will then go into a sob story to get her to comiserate about how mean (insert non compliant adults name here) is. Then he will follow that with flattery, "I just wish I was as good as you at (insert whatever assignment he has to do here)". He can be pretty crafty when he wants to get out of doing something. Luckily, so can I, and have generally employed every method he attempts at sometime in my day.
For example, the other day I informed the kids that we were going to clean the house. I realized after a while, that while Jordan LOOKED busy, he wasn't actually doing anything. He would be gone for an extended period of time when he returned something to the room where it belonged and at one point he was walking briskly from one place to another with a dustrag in one hand and a trash bag in another, but not actually dusting anything or picking up any trash. Once I stopped what I was doing and took a minute to watch what he was doing, I was a able to spot these anti-cleaning techniques that I myself used as a youth. Me an my sister used to employ the old "pick up things and move them from one counter to another so that we look busy but aren't really doing anything to help" ploy many a time when forced to clean. Then of course I remember being really fond of, "I really have to pee, I'll be right back" whenever my mom made me help her with dishes.
Anyway, I am really proud of him for showing a little independence this morning, even if it was just so that he could buy himself some cartoon time before school. Hopefully this new behavior will stick around.

I want to be the shoe! Wait..wrong game.

I wish real life was more like the game Life. You know, with little cards that told you what to do. Get married, congratulations its a girl, go to cosmetology school instead of nursing school. Little magical game cards with all the answers, that's what I need.

I need a padded room.

Sidney- "I am building a concentration camp" (legos spread out on floor before her)

Jordan- "You better watch it Sid, dad will put you in there"

Me- "I am pretty sure that Jordan just called his dad Hitler."

Meme- "Yeah, me too. They really find nothing offensive do they? Just sitting around joking about concentration camps where millions of innocent people died."

Me- "Blah, blah blah blah blabbety blah" (giving history lesson to kids)

Kids- (completely ignoring me)

Sid- "Nevermind, its an insane asylum, mom you can come live here."

I probably need to.

A blog is born

So, here I goes, making a blog. Why? I have no idea, boredom I suppose. I'm hoping that eventually it will be a fun use of my spare time where I can post my musings and what not. So where shall I start? Hmmmm....how about I just start with what I did yesterday because I haven't really done anything today. Sounds good to me! Well, yesterday, I went to class...late as usual. In fact, I missed my first class (math, blah)...but boy did my hair look good!! I had it up in the forties style "rolls" i have become so fond of with a big red flower in it. I wore a black dress with little white polkda dots, skinny jeans and leopard print flats. I looked pretty darn cute if I don't say so myelf. Oh! I also wore my new owl earrings from Forever 21, they are swell.



So, anyhoo, I went to the remainder of my classes, child psychology (unpleasant), speech, student success strategies (also unpleasant) and personal health and wellness. I think the unpleasantness of the above mentioned unpleasant classes has more to do with the prof's than with the subject matter. My child psych teacher looks like this:

She likes to ask the kind of question where she leaves of the last word or two off the end of her sentence. I hate that. They are usually not the kind of questions that anyone is really going to know the exact answer to. Not the kind of question where you can just look down and scan a paragraph in your book looking for the bold face word that will complete the sentence and make her stop. No one wants to answer and so she always ends up answering it herself. Example:

So, when a child is ignored by their mother, okay, when she is too busy to give them her attention, that child might feel?....what.....what might that child feel? (looks expectantly around the class while pacing back and forth with her arms held out as if she is about to catch a ball) that child might feel?.....might feel?......(silence).....that child might feel like they have a boo boo on their heart. Right? Okay, lets move on.

It is completely asinine. A student might mumble a weak and unconfident "sad?" but whatever answer is offered is never the right one. It is very annoying.

If i could find a picture of a preying mantis in a pantsuit wearing glasses and lipstick, you would have a pretty good idea of what my other unpleasant professor looks like. She has a similar "ask stupid questions and make students feel uncomfortable" teaching style. She asks questions that really don't have an answer, then she stares at us until someone answers. Once she recieves the answer, she picks their answer apart like a pack of ravenous dogs on a dead deer. Then she asks a follow up question, that like the original question, does not really have a direct answer. I am sure that this is probably supposed to foster "critical thinking skills", or some such nonsense. But, I am pretty sure that she just likes to watch people squirm. You can just tell by the way she looks out over her glasses, trying to select the dumbest person in the room to devour. She also employs a technique that I haven't seen since 6th grade. When people are talking in class, after she has begun her lesson, she just stops talking and stares at them until they notice that she is hating them with her eyes and then she continues as if nothing happened. I really don't like it when people talk while the teacher is talking, I have A.D.D. and it is very distracting. Plus, it is very f-ing rude. That being said, I just don't like anyone being singled out and embarrassed in front of the whole class. Especially in college, where we are paying to be there. I like the way my speech teacher usually deals with talkers, she just stops and looks over at them and says, sweet as pie, "did you have a question?". It usualy catches the talkers off guard, because they weren't paying attention, and then they realize they weren't paying attention and simpy say, "no ma'am", she says, "oh, okay", and continues with her lecture. It takes care of the problem without making anyone look like an a-hole, which is a good thing. :)

Okay, well, I kind of went off on a blabber fest there didn't I? The rest of my day went pretty good, but now I have to focus on making today a good one and get off my keester and do something productive. Later!