Yet Another Reason to leave Hell....

CENSORSHIP!

Yesterday evening I was fixing chili for Sweet Man and me. Yes, I know I'm scaring y'all. I was cooking again. I had the local evening news on in the background...well, local in that it was from the capital of our lovely state. The local affiliates suck even more.... it was right before the show ended and the real news came on (national). A segment came on about a new network series that was going to premiere that night. It's called "The Book of Daniel".

According to my bible (T.V. Guide), this drama is "about a vice-riddled minister struggling to keep the faith"......"throw in a drug-dealing daughter, a gay son and a few visions of Jesus and you have the perfect poor soul to complele your prayer circle."

I don't know about y'all, but that sounds pretty realistic to me. Well, maybe not the "visions of Jesus" part. But I guess it depends on what kinds of drugs the minister is abusing. And it is T.V. and it is fiction, after all.

The news show had gathered a group of what they were referring to as "specialists in their fields" for a "forum". This "forum" consisted of a member of management from the t.v. station, a "theological professional" ( local small college theology professor), and a "journalist" (journalism professor from same college).

This little group discussed how the show was going to be aired that night despite complaints from area viewers. Evidently alllllll the good Christians of the area were up in arms about this new show. Management stated that after the first hour of the episode, viewers could call in to the station and leave comments with members of station management. No discussion with said members of management would take place. Just the leaving of comments.

The theologial professional stated that the show is a "contrived" view of Christianity and a "bad place to form one's opinion on theology".

The journalism professional stated that he was "happy to see that the station was responsive to their audience". Apparently some stations are cancelling the airing of the show. At least this station is "letting" it be aired and "letting the viewers make up their own minds".

Gee, thanks station. I'm 49 years old. I need your permission to "make up my own mind".

Sweet home Alabama...... gotta love it.

But it could be worse. At least I don't have the misfortune of residing in "certain areas of Arkansas and Oklahoma" where the show is not being aired at all.

I Freakin' Hate.....

Court on Fridays!!!!

Damn new Judges.

Everyone in my office, with the exception of Baby DA and me will be wearing jeans tomorrow because it's Friday.

Baby DA and I have to go to Circuit court for FIVE freakin' cases. That's it. Just five. But because of that~ suits must be worn.

ARGGGHHHH!

Editor's Note* If I didn't like to shop so much, I'd quit. And not just because of this. But that's another post....

Pissy's Potential New Home

I'm excited (hence, the pink print)! For awhile now I've been toying with the idea of hiring someone to design a blog for me.

While at my desk today, I found the people for the job. I''ve been working on design ideas and have exchanged e-mails with the designer. It'll be a couple of days before she can even begin to work on mine, but still.......EXCITED!!!!

This should be fun! It'll look the way I want it to, with all the ideas I have but have no idea how to put into place. I won't have to pester City Penguin to do things for me and I sure as hell won't have to try to figure out how to do it for myself. Like that would ever happen. And all for the low, low, low price of $25.00.

I know it's low. I shopped around. You know me.


*editor's note* I needed this. I was in a funk this morning because another blogger was so offended by my "R E D N E C K" post that SHE did a post about me! and what a "snob" I am. The snob part didn't bother me. Her holier-than-thou attitude is what pissed me off.

Tastefully Tacky T-shirt Tuesday

I've decided to combine several of my favorite things: shopping, clothes, t-shirts and smart-ass remarks - all in to one fun-filled event.

Well, I think it's fun...I'm calling it: Tastefully Tacky t-shirt Tuesday.

Each Tuesday I'll post a pic of me in one of my t-shirts with an explanation of why I love it.

*editor's note* this also gives me an excuse to keep shopping for more t-shirts should I come close to running out. Ha! Like I'd need an excuse!


Really. Need I explain? It's pink, it's bitchy and it ORDERS the reader to do something for ME!

*editor's note* Sweet Man took this pic. He's never used my new camera before. I think my boobs look crooked. Not sure whose fault that is..... mine, his or the camera's...

Ultimate Insult (so far this week)

I'm sitting here in my office, at my desk, trying to work (yeah,right) when wham! It hits me.

The Ultimate Insult.

I had notice earlier when I glanced out my office door, that some skeezed-out-coke-smoking-derelict-looking guy wear a Hawaiian shirt of all things, was sitting at Unit Secretary's visitor's chair. He and Unit Secretary were chatting. Whatever.

My intercom rings. Its Unit Secretary sounding all giddy. She says "Pissy, guess what this guy just asked me?!?!" I'm thinking "where he can buy a new shirt?" But I'm trying to be less bitchy in '06, so I let it go. Instead I act interested and ask her what he said.

"He wanted to know if you are my MOTHER."

I'm currently considering the many different ways I could kill him. I'll keep you posted.


editor's note* I'm letting Unit Secretary live. She does all the work.

Redneck Moment

Not to piss anyone off, but I experience some redneck moments that I consider too good not to share. Believe me when I say that some of the nicest people I know consider themselves to be Rednecks. Those are not the particular breed of Rednecks I'm talking about here.

This particular breed are R E D N E C K S. There is a difference.

Due to the many sightings I have down here in Hell, I've decided to have a weekly post that I'm calling Redneck Moments. ( Hence, the title.) It may be difficult for me to keep the moments down to just one a week. But I want to keep things fresh, so to speak. So I'll try not to over-share.

Yesterday being New Years day and all, Sweet Man and I decided to go out to eat for a late lunch. First we went to our favorite bar-b-que place. Closed. Then we tried our favorite place for chicken fingers. Again, closed. Apparently all of Hell's finer eating establishments were allowing their employees to enjoy the holiday. So as a semi-last resort, we went to Wendy's. It was either that, or Mc Donald's and I wasn't in a McDonald's kinda place, if you know what I mean.

We get there and of course, it being 3:00 in the afternoon, the place was fairly empty. We walk up to place our order and there she was.

It was the bright red fleece of her pajama pants that first caught my eye. As I got closer I could see that the fabric was printed with large cartoonish black and white penguins. O.K. she looked to be around 16 and it was still technically the "holidays". I would have let that go. But then I saw the t-shirt she was wearing with the pants. It was large, faded and gray. Hung almost to her knees. On the back was printed "Battle flags of the Confederacy". Below that, were of course, all the flags. No, I don't know how many. I was trying not to stare. With this lovely ensemble, she had chosen to wear a pair of fuzzy slippers and her hair in a low ponytail. Of course. What else would one wear with an ensemble such as this?

I was so shell-shocked from this "What Not to Wear" moment, that I hadn't noticed her companion. He had to be one of the shortest adult men I've ever seen in my life that was not a "little person". *editor's note* I'm trying to be politically correct here, people, but in my mind they'll always be "midgets". I'm old school. I can't help it.

This little fella had on what unfortunately around here would be considered a more normal outfit. He was attired in a pair of over-alls covering a long-sleeved Nascar t-shirt. Normally I wouldn't have known it was a Nascar t-shirt, but it had the name DALE EARNHARDT in large letters running down the sleeve. He had on a trucker hat covering his long, gray ponytail. And I'm not talking mullet here. I'm talking full-out ponytail. Middle of his back-ponytail.
The trucker hat was camo. I'm thinking maybe to hide the ponytail? Who knows what he was thinking when he put this outfit together.... Afterall, this man had to be at least fifty-five years old. He probably had been dressing like this for years.

So Sweet Man and I eat our lunch. As we go to leave, we pass the girl and the little fella. I tried not to stare one last time to take it all in. I made a comment to Sweet Man about how nice it was to see a teenage girl and her dad out to lunch on a Sunday afternoon.

Sweet Man said, "You know, Pissy, that wasn't her dad. That was her husband."

It was with that statement, that I proclaim this: "Redneck Moment of the Week".

Reflections on transitions, loss and change...

I had already gone to bed for the night. Fireworks going off in the neighborhood, everyone in the household asleep except for me, cozy in my bed with my little Buster curled up behind my knees...perfect set-up for slumber.

Then I started thinking..... I'd been hopping around from one blog to another off and on all day today. I visited two that I'd never been to before that had some very powerful and thought provoking posts about loss. Loss of loved ones. How that changes your life and the life you had planned. The lives of those around you... The posts I read today were still on my mind and led me to thoughts of the losses in my life and the changes and consequent transitions I've had to make in my own life due to those losses.

I don't want to come across as whiny or a crybaby or a complainer- for that matter. The losses I read of today are so much more recent than those I've experienced. One was the loss of a pet of 10 years. I've experienced that. The other was of the loss of a spouse. One that, oh so fortunately for me~I've not experienced. That particular blogger was so honest in her emotions of all the different facets of her life that will change now that her beloved spouse is truly gone forever.... I can hardly imagine that. I'm selfish, remember? I don't want to even try to imagine it.

The personal losses I'm referring to began in January 2003, when our treasured Dacshund, Barney, had to be put down. Barney was 16 years old and had led a most wonderful life with us. He shared in everything our family did and grew up with my two children. We brought Barney home when he was 6 weeks old. Little P was in 2nd grade and Penguin was in 5th. We are convinced that there could not be a sweeter dacshi with a better dispostion than our "Barn-barn". He was one of those dogs who was just cool, you know? Everybody who came in contact with him loved him. One of my favorite pictures of him (before digital or I'd post it) was of him sitting on the kitchen table amidst a card game that Little P and her friends were having while I was out of town. You know those kinds of parties.... There sat Barn~right next to Little P and her beer bottle. He looked like he was telling her which cards to play. :)

But that January 17th, Barney had reached the end of his days with us. We knew he wasn't well. The last few Christmases we'd think "this will be his last". But that Christmas he was relatively healthy-for him. Maybe he knew it would be his last one and he didn't want us to be sad.... Right after Christmas he went down hill fast. January 16th, I had a feeling the end was near. He'd already had so many teeth removed all he could eat was soft food and now he wouldn't eat much of that. That evening I went to check his water bowl while he was asleep in his favorite bed, covered with his favorite blanket and in front of his special little space heater. The bowl was full of blood....

I phoned the vet at home that night. You can do that in small towns like this. He told me to just keep Barn comfortable and to bring him in the next morning. Barn acted like his usual self the morning of the 17th. He walked down to get the newspaper with Sweet Man like he always did. He even ate a little of his favorite food.... I went to the office because I had court that day, so Sweet Man took him in with a promise that he would call me the instant the vet told him what was wrong.

At 8:15 my phone rang. Sweet Man was crying and could hardly speak. The vet came on the phone and said Barney had cancer throughout his little body. He really didn't know how Barn had managed to stay alive as long as he had. The vet said for me to come now.

I got there in less than 5 minutes~small town, remember? The vet had tears in his eyes when he told me that this would be the last best thing we could do for Barney.....and he would give us time alone with him first.

Walking into that room was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. I knew that I was about to allow someone to inject my favorite little "boy" with something that would take him from me forever. No turning back. This was the best thing for Barney and the most painful thing for us. Sweet Man and I held him and cooed our silly special "Barneyisms" to him while they gave him the injection. It didn't take long for him to leave us....

Because we loved Barney so much, we couldn't stand the thought of burying him here and then moving away someday, so we had him cremated. He'll go with us when we move and then we'll decide what to do next.....even after two years, we still don't know. Seldom a day goes by that Sweet Man and I don't mention him or something that reminds one of us of him. Seldom a week goes by that one of us doesn't still cry because we miss him to this day. I'm sure we always will.

I'm sure anyone still reading at this point is thinking "enough already!" But I feel the need to get this out even though it's 2 a.m.

My oldest and dearest friend, M, passed away March 2004. M was a breast cancer survivor of one and a half years. But she called me the week before Christmas 2003 on her way to the hospital. M was sobbing as she told me she'd been to the doctor that day. The cancer was back. It was in her liver and her spine....

I'd met M in Germany in 1985. She had the BEST personality. Never met a stranger. Could sell ice to Eskimos. Had FUN everywhere she went. We'd been through all the things best friends go through. We'd both been married to Army pilots, divorced them, raised our children in the same town. Helped each other through all the crap best friends help each other through...I won't go into it all. Anyone with a best friend of almost 20 years has been through some shit together, you know?

I was there with M when the doctor gave her the prognosis. It wasn't good. I'd go to the hospital as much as possible. I'd spend nights with her there, bring her cherry limeades from Sonic, bubble gum and lifesaver. Tulips~because we used to buy them in Germany all the time and they were still our favorites.

The last time I saw M alive, was the Sunday before she died. She was in terrible shape...hardly recognizable....listless....sleeping off and on from all the pain meds she was on. I brought her some Girl Scout cookies because she loved them. Her lips and fingertips were raw from her treatments. Bless her heart, she couldn't put vasaline on her own lips~the pain in her fingertips was so bad... I did it for her. I put a lifesaver in her mouth for her when she asked me to. She drifted on and off while "Sanford and Sons" was on in the background. We chatted a little when she would wake up. I reminded her of some of the crazy stuff we'd done. M told me something I'll always remember. She said, "Ya know Pissy, people come in here all the time and want to talk about the old fun times we had together. I don't remember them. But I tell them I do-just to make 'em happy and so they'll shut up. But I DO remember the crazy shit you and I did together." She told me this with a little smile on her face and her eyes closed. I said, "I love you, M." She said, "I love you too, Pissy." Then she went to sleep. I stayed a little longer while she slept because I was leaving for a conference the next day. I hated to leave. But she'd gone down hill and come back up so many times. I thought she would this time too.

As I said, that was a Sunday. I got a call at the conference on Thursday that she was dying. The drive back would take me three and a half hours. They said she'd be gone by then....

I miss M every day of my life. She was the closest thing to a sister I've ever had. While I know she is no longer in the terrible pain she was in, it's been SO hard to get used to life without her. She was my movie- going-buddy, my Wal-mart-at-2 a.m.- just-for-the-hell-of-it-buddy. She'd taught Little P how to blow her nose when she was 2 years old, damn it! How could she be gone?!?!?!?

My dad, who I had been estranged from, died December 4, 2004. He was 83 and in extremely poor health. His passing was a blessing. There is a post about dad in my archives.

While all of these things were taking place, I had some major, serious issues at my workplace. I went so far as to consider legal action and consulted an attorney from a different part of the state. Things were very tense at work, to say the least. I was unable to take any legal action, but I have continued to work there. I've become very jaded and hardened over the years at my workplace. The people I come into contact with in my line of work put a person on the defensive constantly. Mediation is combative~regardless of the fact that it's called "mediation". Basically I have to defend my position, my unit and my office on a daily basis. It takes it's toll....

I guess what I'm trying to make myself come to grips with is that I've let these losses, changes and transitions change me. I'm not sure that I like the person I've become. I'm so much more agressive than I used to be. If I want to say something, I don't hold anything back. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a rude bitch~just an opinionated one. Do I want to be that person? I never was before... Have I let the loss of my closet friend keep me from making more friends? I already worry about my two "boys" and when they will leave us... What good is that doing me??? Maybe it was having my 49th birthday on December 26th, that got me thinking about all this. The age thing doesn't bother me a bit, believe me. I just consider the alternative. And afterall, isn't "50 the new 30" or some shit like that?!?! Ha!

If anyone has made it this far in my litany and has any insight, I'd appreciate it.