Creepy UPS Guy

The UPS Guy that delivers to our office looks relatively normal at first glance, late 20's, clean cut, but I assure you he is not all there. He gives off "creepy" vibes and talks in the most obnoxious voice about the weirdest shit.

Submitted for your consideration:

About 20 minutes ago I was outside our office, walking into the building. He's getting out of his truck, carrying our vital, urgently sent packages and I hold the door open for him.

UPS Guy: "Thanks, it sure is going to be a hot one today,"

(High of 88 predicted, much better than the 95 plus from last weekend)

Me: "Um, yeah."

UPS Guy: "Make sure you drink enough water and Gatorade today, you don't want to pass out."

Me (thinking in my head): WTF, I'm wearing a skirt and heels, it's obvious I don't work out in the elements, but an over air-conditioned office.

Me: (saying out loud): "Ok, you be careful too"


See, this wouldn't be really that weird if I hadn't have had a similar run-in on the Monday before Thanksgiving.

Him: "Have you started thawing your turkey out yet?"

Me: "Well, we're going to my mom's..."

Him: "Don't leave it out on the counter to thaw. That's how people get sick."

Me: "Ok."

Him: "I started thawing mine in the fridge last week, just so it'll be ready."

Me: (walking briskly away) "That's good advice, thanks."


I guess the guy's got some major issues with health. I can't figure out why he would completely, out of the blue, totally unprompted by any sense of camaraderie, give health advice like that to complete strangers.

Maybe I just attract the weirdos. I don't know.

Since I know you're not doing anything...

If you're in the KC area, check out the KC Fringe Fest. It's July 21-27th and it was really amusing last year.

I can't go this year since my MIL and FIL are coming into town, I've got to see my husband's non-fringed show, go to cast parties, work at the museum and attend a paranormal investigation. Plus, squeeze in time to see a very dear friend of mine who is briefly coming into town.

But you should totally go.

It's only $5 for an admission button and $5 per whatever show you would want to attend. Cheap! I would recommend the improv groups. I know a lot of them and they are actually really great. The art was really cool last year, I didn't get to hear any of the musicians, but like anything, I'm sure it's hit or miss. Some of it looks questionable, but who am I to judge?

Anyway, go out, support local artists, and enjoy more art than you can fart.

Not in KC? Fringe Fest is actually a worldwide event. Check out the history here. Pretty awesome concept, if you ask me.

Man-scara and Guy-liner

Subtitle: Honey, your gay is showing...


As an actor, my hubby's got a stage make-up kit. He's actually probably better than me at putting make up on, but of course, my daily spackle doesn't include cool scars and occasional facial disfigurements.

Handsome's latest show opened last weekend and he was running low on supplies. Here's how the conversation went:

Handsome: "I need to stop off and get some more stage make-up, I've been borrowing Gay Friend's guy-liner"

Me: "His what?!?"

Handsome: "His guy-liner. And his man-scara."

Me: "Are you serious?"

Handsome: "Yeah, I ran out during dress rehearsals."

Me: "No, what did you just call that stuff?"

Handsome: "You heard me."

Me: "Hand it over."

Handsome: "What?"

Me: "Give me your Man Card. Those terms just officially terminated your manliness."

Handsome: "Johnny Depp wears it. Pirates are manly."

Me: "You, sir, are no pirate."

Handsome: "ARRR!!!"

Me: "Keep working on it."

Handsome's not even remotely gay, but he does have distressing blips on his gay-dar. Like the fact that he likes Barry Manilow, is in musical theatre, cries during chick flicks and can do his own make-up so well.

The only thing saving him is his lack of fashion sense, his affinity for contact sports and his general handiness around the house. Oh yeah, and he likes girls, not boys.

When it rains, it pours

I've always hated that phrase. Sometimes it sprinkles. It's not always a huge storm.

Any way around it, this has been an incredibly busy freaking week and a half.

And there's no sign of it getting calmer until at least next week which seems like light years in the future.

This latest shitstorm of activity literally blindsided me. I wasn't expecting to be this busy. Sure I knew I had all this stuff on my calendar, but with a few extra irritations/opportunities thrown in, I'm now officially over my head.

Luckily, I'm usually a good swimmer.

I've had about 5,000 ideas for posts, I just haven't had the time to write anything. Which just makes me itchy to type. I'll start correcting that.

Maybe this week...we'll see.

Sorry Guys...I'm Lazy

I wanted to update my profile this weekend, but I got hella busy. Opps....enjoy the Red Necks in my previous post or the ones found here in the meantime. I still love you...Stay tuned...

Moxie Loves the Ignorant RedNecks...

Semi-Organized Changes

Stay tuned, Constant Reader. I'm going to attempt to shake some stuff up around here in the next couple of days/weeks (in my own good, but limited time). Now that I've said it out loud to the whole blogosphere, maybe now I'll actually do it.

Phase One: I've updated my blog roll to reflect my Google Reader blogs, so if you don't see your blog posted, let me know and I'll add you!

Phase Two: I'm also going to put my limited web design skilz to use and maybe come up with a better masthead/layout.

That will truly be interesting. Pardon the freaky electronic dust as I start my project soon.

Have a great weekend!

I know my ABC's...

A is for age. 31
B is for Burger of Choice. I'm going with the Lew Burger at Lew's Bar and Grill. It's perfect. Honorable mention goes to Red Robin and Westport Flea Market...
C is for Car. A silver Ford Focus. Sensible, reliable and cheap.
D is for daughters. I have the greatest little gal ever. I can't believe she's going to be 4 in another month or so.
E is for essential item you use every day. Cell phone. Which is constantly ringing.
F is for favorite tv show. No question about it. Mad Men on AMC. Brilliant and Season 2 starts July 27. But I also like "30 Days" and "Cities of the Underground"
G is for groceries. I'm currently in a cooking rut, relying on the easy, well-worn recipes. I need to shake it up a bit and hit the store with a list of ingredients. I did just discover a new recipe blog A Year of Crockpotting. Interesting stuff.
H is for how often you embarrass yourself. That's pretty hard to do, even though I'm semi-klutzy...
I is for ice cream. Foo's Fabulous Frozen Yogurt...Turtle Concrete.
J is for juice. I'm not a huge juice freak, but Darling's on a big Mango Juice kick right now, so that means I am too.
K is for kids. One beautiful little daughter.
L is for Lipstick. I have never found lipstick that looks remotely decent on me. But, I can't live without my kiwi lipgloss.
M is for Mexican food. I love it. My favorite is probably Manny's for "real Mexican" but I also love Chipotle (is it weird to crave cilantro rice?)
N is for number of piercings. 3 in my ears (one in the cartiledge)
O is for Optometry. Contacts. I'm blind.
P is for People You Were With Today. Co-workers, then hopefully tonight my hubby, daughter and my BFF. I'm dying to meet her 2 new Great Dane puppies.
Q is for Quiet Time. This is essential for my mental health. I love the 8:30 to 11 pm slot in my day. Darling's asleep and Handsome isn't home from rehearsal yet. Just Moxie time.
R is for Biggest Regret. I'm not sure I really have any that are too serious.
S is for sports you play. I played softball for my college team and taught Red Cross swimming for 11 years, but I like most sports.
T is for tattoo. None. Needles kind of freak me out a bit, so does searing pain. But if I ever did get one, it would be a Celtic Trinity Knot.
U is for what is unique about you. Probably my fear of garden gnomes, the fact that when I'm pissed, I curse in German, and that I can read Tarot cards scarily well.
V is for Vegetables you Love. I love veggies in all forms. My iron must be low because I'm craving beets, red cabbage and a spinach salad.
X is for number of x rays. Just one when I broke my arm falling on ice when I was 13.
Y is for Yummy Food you ate today. So far, just a Pop Tart. But I'm gearing up for lunchtime. Maybe a little Sweet Tomatoes for my veggie fix?
Z is for Zodiac. My zodiac signs are split. I was born on the Aries/Taurus cusp and while I'm technically a Taurus, I do have a splendid temper and passion for life.

Check out Average Jane and I, Shane's...pretty interesting memes!

To Forgive Is Divine, but is it really human?

So, my BFF and I were discussing the relationship of one of our really close friends tonight. Said friend shall be named Wronged, because, well, she was.

Wronged's husband cheated on her 2 years ago with a girl, Horse Face, we'll call her, because, well, she is.

It was a 2 night stand that he promptly cut off once he tamed his "passion"/trouser snake. She continued to carry on a psycho-stalker obsession that I'm pretty sure he didn't encourage. (Who knows, really?)

Wronged found out about it about 6 months after it happened and confronted him. He confessed (eventually) and they are trying to work it out. Counseling, talking it through, all that...

Good for them. Sometimes I think people give up on marriages that could be salvaged too soon. Sometimes it's just best to walk the fuck away. I don't know what's the right thing to do, but I'm proud of them for trying.

So, BFF and I were talking. I've been with Handsome for 11.5+ years and she's been with her hubby, Tony Soprano (we'll call him that because, well, he looks like him) for going on 9 years. We both are Catholic, moderately spoiled wives. Neither Handsome or Tony is likely to cheat.

But what if? What would we do? Tear his balls off or forgive and try to forget?

Wronged has been having a really hard time lately. Only a VERY few of us know what happened and Horse Face is in the Circle of Friends. There's no escaping her without it being obvious/questions being asked.

I respect the self control Wronged has shown in not scratching the bitch's eyes out for this long, but as BFF and I agreed, how incredibly hard is it to keep up the facade so no one else can see the seething anger and resentment she must feel?

Wronged is focused on fixing her marriage but because of Horse Face's nonchalant attitude is unable to forgive her/move on.

BFF and I both agree the marriage relationship is the most important thing to mend, but BFF argues that Wronged should forgive Horse Face.

I say she owes Horse Face nothing so compassionate as forgiveness. If it was just a one time stupid drunken mistake, sure, forgive, move on.

But it wasn't.

For months, this "friend" of Wronged deliberately tried to re-seduce her husband.

Why forgive if there is no sense of remorse or desire for true forgiveness?

Maybe I'm just cold and evil. But, I just don't think Wronged should offer unearned forgiveness. This isn't very Christian of me. I know it's mean, but when there are children involved and you're supposedly friends, how could you cheat with someone else's husband and just not care? (Believe me, she doesn't care. It probably makes her feel powerful that she caused such a scene.)

Am I right or is BFF right?

I always think forgiveness should be given, but in this situation...I just don't know. I love my Wronged friend, and walking a mile in her hypothetical moccassins just makes me cringe.

What would you do?

Stop Thief!

Oopps...

Handsome and I totally ripped off Quik Trip for $33.

Yesterday Handsome went to fill up the car with gas. When he put his gas id card in, it told him to see the cashier. He did. The cashier said we drove off last week without paying for our $33 worth of gas.

Handsome balked. Told him he always came into pay for gas. The cashier said, "No big deal, sometimes we switch to the next user before the last person pays so the system gets messed up."

And then he voided the $33 from last week.

Handsome makes it out the door and to the car before he realizes what happened.

Last week we went to QT. He filled up at the pump and I went inside for essential road trip snackies. I misunderstood Handsome who told me to let them know we had gas on pump 11. I paid for snacks alone and took off. I thought he was paying at the pump, as he sometimes does.

Handsome did not pay for the gas.

We just ripped off QT. I kind of feel bad about it. But then again, gas is expensive and we have absolute brand loyalty to that chain (Handsome will drive on fumes to get to QT). They are starting to get a bigger chunk of our paychecks each week.

Besides, it would be ridiculous to go back in a say, "Oh yeah, we really do owe this" because well, we'd look dumb.

I still feel like a thief...

Nope, still seething....

What's wrong with me?

Moxie Meltdown occured at 16:00 hours today. Now it's almost 22:00 hours.

And I'm still seething...

I'm not like this usually. I'm calm, cool and professional when it comes to disagreements. Then in private I rave at Handsome and release my anger on his sympathetic ear.

He listens. He makes me laugh about it. We hug. I'm done.

'Cept he's at rehearsal and I'm still in a frothy lather of anger.

It's nights like this that I crave stress relief in a softball bat and a whole lotta balls (in a batting cage, stop cringing boys)...

Or a really stiff, hard drink....

Or both...

I'm not going to sleep when I'm this angry...

That's a problem.

Speaking of Incredible Fireworks...

So how was your 4th of July?

Did you swell with patriotism?

Did you blow up Chinese fireworks in the name of Uncle Sam?

Did you sit on your butt and do nothing?

Me?

I went to my Mom and Dad's and had a little of this...

and some of this...

and a whole lotta this...

Don't worry, I'm not on vacation anymore, you will soon be returned to your regularly scheduled Moxie fix....

Seething...

Today I spectacularly lost my temper.

I was so filled with rage and indignation I was actually physically shaking. All because of a service provider. I won't get into details because I'm weary but ho-LEE SHIT (!) was it a blow up, kids!

Bigger than the Fourth of July fireworks.

Bigger than the eruption of Pompeii.

Believe me, when I say it was bad.

Handsome is usually the one that blows up, not me. I play the good cop to his freak out in situations. I'm the calm, cool, collected one. I never yell at worker bees.

I think I scared Handsome a bit....I might have even scared myself at my loss of control.

He's never seen me blow up at piss poor customer service in the almost 12 yrs we've been together.

Justified wrath can be beautiful. And quite the rush.

I should have used that adrenaline rush to have wild, thrashing sex with my gorgeous husband, but the moment passed and people would have stared (sorry, TMI). But it would have been incredible.

I feel righteous and cleansed any ol' who...

Summer of the Strippers....

Ok...I know there's a few people who are curious, from cryptic past posts...so I'll divulge it at last.

Summer 1998. Handsome and I have been dating a year, living in our first apartment and my weakness for lost causes shines thru.

We come home from a churchy function and a roving ska band is using our apartment to shower before they hit the road for Tennessee. There are towels, half naked men, drugs and tattoos everywhere.

But not Roxie. She was busy making out with a stranger in her bedroom.

It was the last straw....

Let me explain Roxie....

She was one of my best friends in high school. She was a year younger than I was but we met when I was a freshman and she was an 8th grader in our foreign language class. (Kanst du Deutsch sprechen?)

It was immediate connection for both of us. I was the good girl and she was the one who shook me up. Made me really challenge my bourgeoisie background.

Even though we grew up in the same small suburb outside of KC, we were inseparable and if you believe in reincarnation and that there are people you are always destined to meet, she's on my buddy list.

Even though we were as different as night and day. I used to call her my "Punk Rock Girl". In fact, we'd blare that song and sing/scream it in her car with all the windows down on warm, summer, teenage nights.


When I went away to college in KC, we lost touch for that year, only occasionally checking in. Some friendships don't need daily reminders...

Then, my sophomore year she started coming around a lot more. She moved out of her parents' house, was going to Longview Community College and every so often would show up on my doorstep at my college.

If ever there was someone who danced to the beat of their own drum it was her. Yet she was one of my greatest creative inspirations, even now, 10 yrs after our friendship ended.

She was the one who opened me up to "Trainspotting", Nutella, the English punk rock band Pulp, and creativity for the sake of art.

Ours was sometimes an unspoken friendship.

Like the night she wrecked her car and my roommate and I went and picked her up, not questioning why or how ...

Like the night she broke up with her boyfriend and I saw the bruises on her arms and I just held her when she cried...

Like the night she unexpectedly showed up like an angel after I was raped....when I took/smoked some drugs I shouldn't have and she rescued me and took me to my room and put me to bed, even though I begged her to let me die.

Things we never talked about afterwards because we didn't need to.

My junior year, she ended up in a bad spot. She moved in. She needed a place to stay and of course I'd say yes....

She needed a job.

So, she became a stripper.

I was surprised. I was the one with the athletic body and big boobs. She was the one who looked like a 6th grade school girl (her act I guess). I never thought she could/would do it, but she did.

Do you have any idea the look on the face of the checkout girl when we paid for our groceries in $1 and $5 bills?

Then it got out of hand. She spiraled down. She asked another girl, Trixie to move in with us without asking Handsome and I if it was ok. At our parties, she'd show anyone who wanted to see her clit ring. Weird people started hanging around Roxie and Trixie. In our apartment...our home...I got scared.

Trixie wasn't bad. She was a voluptuous blond from our hometown that was trying to earn money for college (cliche, I know, but in this case, it was true. She went back to school after that summer, easily able to pay tuition.) We developed a decent friendship.

Roxie got jealous and paranoid.

By the time we moved out, we weren't speaking. She left a huge stain of red and blue tempra paint on the carpet of her bedroom. (I still have the painting she painted and gave me for my high school graduation)

She moved out without a single word. Handsome and I did our best to get the paint out of the gray carpet, but it was a mess.

We haven't spoke since that time 10 yrs ago...

I think of her from time to time.

She's still a stripper. She moved back in with her parents.

I found her on MySpace last year and tried to contact her. Just to tell her I missed her and wanted to see her again, that all was forgiven. Water under the bridge and all of that. She just wrote back and said, "Sorry, I'm not her, hope you find your friend."

I know she's embarrassed that she hasn't moved on. That I married Handsome, have a child, a house, a real career. I know she always wanted those things but they just never seemed to land in her lap.

And that's how she liked fate. Nothing hard, nothing demanding. Just easy....

I still miss her. There's a little piece of me that isn't there any longer. Every time I hear someone speak German I think of her. Every time I see Nutella next to the Peanut Butter on the grocery store shelves. Every time I listen to Pulp.

I hate unfinished business...If not now, our next life...I hate that thought.

I miss my friend, but I rest easy for now.

Because I tried.

Because friendships are ultimately 2 way streets.

I did the best I could.

And I still love her.

For you, Roxie...tonight, 'cause I miss you...



Hey, wherever you are, Roxie, I hope we can mend it this time. I hope you "Choose Life" because you choose another strip tease and you know what this means...I hope you find the electrical tin opener someday...

Good Advice I was too young to understand at the time...

I watched "Romeo+Juliet" tonight and it sparked my Baz Luhrman....

I remember this the year I graduated high school (1995) and especially college (2000). Years after the fact, I realize the wisdom that I was too idealistic/too young too understand...geez, Kidz these days should take it more to heart than I did...

Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen!
Wear Sunscreen

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You're not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind…the race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time it's 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen...

Never piss off historians...

Especially if you're trying to get elected. Remember who writes the history books for the winners?

I was really kind of surprised at this story.

What was Obama thinking? What a horrible slip up. Obama's handlers should be spanked for not having him visit the library and Truman's grave.

In a time of political change, calling on the plucky spirit of "Give 'em Hell, Harry" could have and should have been on the agenda. If I were the library people, I'd be ticked too.

What was more important than visiting/giving your respects at a former president's grave? Let's be honest. There's only 3 things Independence, MO is known for:

1. The Oregon-Santa Fe Trails
2. Harry Truman
3. Crystal Meth

So, if it wasn't #2 that was so interesting, what was more important, Mr. Presidential Hopeful? (Let the conspiracy theories begin...)

I want to like Obama. Why? It's easy (almost too easy) to kick McCain, I want changes in our government and I certainly wasn't a Hillary supporter. But he certainly didn't win brownie points with me today. Especially since he was supposedly defending his patriotism. Snub a former president, a Democrat at that. That'll show 'em!

Can we resurrect Truman? He didn't give a crap if his politics were popular or not, he just did the right thing to make his country a better place to live. That sort of seems more patriotic to me than just wearing (or not wearing) a flag pin and giving speeches.

I'm just saying...

Here's some of my favorite Harry quotes:

"My choice early in life was either to be a piano-player in a whorehouse or a politician. And to tell the truth, there's hardly any difference.”

"I never did give them hell. I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell."

“The 'C' students run the world.”

"Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day.”

"I wonder how far Moses would have gone if he'd taken a poll in Egypt? What would Jesus Christ have preached if he'd had taken a poll in Israel? Where would the Reformation have gone if Martin Luther had taken a poll? It isn't polls or public opinion of the moment that counts. It is right and wrong and leadership--- men with fortitude and honesty, and a belief in the right that makes epochs in the history of the world".

"It's not the hand that signs the laws that holds the destiny of America. It's the hand that casts the ballot."

Everybody's best friend

Maybe I'm over-reacting, but Darling's friendly. Maybe a little too friendly....

She greets everyone that crosses her path with "Hi, I'm Darling. I live at (Moxie Address). What's your name? Where do you live?"

It's cute, but she has no sense of Stranger Danger and just a splash of that is a good thing. Handsome and I worked so hard to get her to come out of her shy shell and now, she's way out there.

We're both worried about how to reign her in without sending her back to wallflower status. This is so confusing. Parenting sucks sometimes, you know?

Why don't kids come with instruction manuals?

Va-Ca Fever!

It's only Monday morning and I'm itching for my Fourth of July break already. I made the executive decision to take off Wed-Sun this week and I'm SO not motivated to get stuff done in my stressful 2 day work week.

My mind's already vacationing...I'm dreaming of sleeping in on Wed/Thurs, swimming, maybe laying out, reading, relaxing...

In other words, no Marketing job, no Museum job for 5 days straight.

AHHH....

Don't get me wrong, I love my jobs and I don't sit still well for very long, but I really need this relaxation.

Today and tomorrow are going to drag.

Bummer.

Explanations....

Argue with me if you must, but I'll shoot you down...

My favorite song ever written is "American Pie" It's the first vinyl (yes, vinyl album as in record) that I remember ever seeing. My parents played it over and over again. My first history lesson came from my dad as he explained the symbolism behind the song. I was hooked on history forevermore...

I fought it, but I am my father's daughter after all...

I love the symbolism contained in Don McLean's greatest song...

I found this on YouTube tonight and I love it...nice explaination of it all...


I love you, Daddy for the world you opened to me...

Mr. Presidential Hopeful, I just peed my pants

I admit to sometimes indulging in the whole lolcats thing. I admit to enjoying funny picture captioning, corny, I know, but this, this my friends is a gem...

check out PunditKitchen and Graph Jam when you're bored at work.

Random stuff in my head

I'm bored at the museum today. So, I'm blogging about absolutely nothing of any real value. My mind is racing with a bunch of crap though...

In no particular order:

~ Are all tourists from Rhode Island such big assholes as that last guy?

~ If I picked some oregano from their garden, which I enthusiastically accepted, what the hell would I actually do with it?

~ Do I have enough chicken in the freezer to feed 12 tonight?

~ Shit...grocery store here I come...

~ Is it too wet to have a picnic?

~ If the MIL and FIL get to our house before I get home for work, she better not start cooking the crap she brought.

~ Has anyone ever had the nerve to tell my MIL that she's a horrible cook and she should let her husband (who is a pretty good cook) do it? I want to watch when somebody gets the balls to do so.

~ What the hell am I going to do with that Donut Maker Handsome "won" yesterday?
~ How did "The Executioner's Song" actually win a Pulitzer? It's the most depressing, tedious book I think I've ever read.

~ I never quit in the middle of a book. I'm tempted though.

~ I hate museum visitors who interrupt my tour to tell me how smart they are. (9 times out of 10 they're not.)

~ Questions are fine, ask away. Don't lecture me with your misinformation. It only embarasses us both.

~ Am I a snob or just fussy today?

Crafty....

I hang out with a lot of crafty/talented people. I don't do crafts. I'm great at designing things (like junk mail) on the computer, but I don't sew, knit, paint, play music, cook gourmet or even scrapbook.

I should be able to be creative with my hands beyond making pictures with dry 15 bean soup mix with Darling.


Right? Everyone should have a unique creative talent.


I'm envious of quilters, photographers, weavers, gardeners, etc. I would love to cherish something that I made with my own two hands.

Maybe I'll take up woodworking. (I know, kind of butch, huh?) I've always liked watching my dad make things out of wood. Except I'm scared of splinters.

Maybe this is just something I should think more about. I love hobbies. Maybe I should just find one and stick to it.

This Doesn't Surprise Me....

40 As a 1930s wife, I am Poor Take the test!

Just one more month!

I realized today that it was June 27th, which means only one thing to me....30 days until "Mad Men' Season 2 premeries! I'm so excited. THIS is the show I get all gushy/nerdy over!

There's new video clips! Damn corporate for blocking streaming video and ruining my afternoon eye candy. Now I have to wait until I get home! ARGH!

Jon Hamm, here I come!

If you've missed the first season (like just about everybody else), you can catch Season One which will be repeated in a marathon on July 20th.

Man Cave Gone Wild

I did earn "Coolest Wife" points from his friends for encouraging Handsome to build his fortified Man Cave/Temple to Testosterone.

Whatever. I've been a great wife in all of this. I even helped him track down the perfect corner desk for his computer stuff on Craigslist. Because this isn't supposed to be an expensive venture, remember?

He can have whatever he wants in there (except the 52" plasma, that's out of the budget, buddy)It's his well deserved space.

However, I'm starting to regret it.

He primed the walls and is now considering painting a mural of all the shows he's done. Here's how it went:

Handsome: So I'm thinking of painting a mural on that wall with all the shows I've done.

Me: Umm, sweetheart, you remember that you're colorblind, right? (So much so that he can't tell the difference between red/green and when he was a kid, he thought their black and white tv was color)

Handsome: So?

Me: I've seen your high school art class paintings (green instead of yellow, red instead of brown..you get it, right?)

Handsome: Yeah, so?

Me: Will you at least let your brother (the one that isn't colorblind) help you pick out the colors? (Thinking to myself, "That's going to be a bitch to paint over when we sell this house in a few years")

Handsome: I can read labels, I can do it.

Me: Have him help anyway.

I know it's literally not my place, but why a mural? Over the last 12 years of shows, he's collected quite the memorbilia stash. Plus, mural painting will prolong the siding, the bathroom remodel and painting Darling's playroom. Not to mention refinishing the hardwoods in the living room and dining room. We're a DIY, Can Do Operation here at the Moxie Family Compound. Thank God between his father, uncles and himself they can do all this work.

I'm just going to keep biting my tongue, because I promised him, and if company comes over, I'll just shut the door.

That's reasonable, right?

Social Networking Competition...Apparently

I've noticed an odd phenomenon among my Facebook/MySpace friends circle lately, but I wasn't sure, so I put it to the test last night.

Darling and I were kickin' it inflatable poolside last night and as we silly girls are wont to do, I pulled out the camera and started taking pictures of her unparalleled adorableness. We both love doing this and she's gotten much better at hamming it up.

I can't help myself. My parents were not "picture takers" and it was something I was determined to remedy as a parent. I hate not having many pictures of me when I was little. Our child is thoroughly documented thru visuals.

I always post them on Facebook or MySpace when I get around to it. Darling's aunts and uncles and distant cousins are always bugging me for pictures (she's one of the only little ones in our family right now until some them decide to reproduce, so she's a novelty) and I figure if they really want them, they can download them. My SIL gave me a really cool collage of Handsome, Darling and I for Christmas last year simply from yanking pics from my social networks.

So, last weekend I posted pics from Family Date Night at Loose Park, the Tinkerbell dress up day, and visiting Grandma at the Lake's house. All packed with cuteness and fortified by the funny captions I try to create.

Within hours, 3 mothers and 4 girlfriends/wives had posted pics of their fun times. I thought it was odd there was such an onslaught of pics all of a sudden, so I decided to test it.

I posted our swimming pictures last night and within a few hours 2 others had posted and by this morning, 3 others had pictures of their kids up.

Girls, it's not a competition...

It got me thinking about why people even bother joining Facebook/MySpace. Is it for the "SuperPokes" or to keep up with friends or to brag about your "fabulous" life?

Sometimes I think it's just a facade we all put up.

Is social networking just high school reinvented? How many friends can I accumulate to impress others? What I'm doing this weekend that's so much better than what you're doing (laundry and housecleaning)?

Moxie just doesn't roll that way. I don't care enough to compete. Does that make me boring? I don't know. I know I started this blog to stay away from their prying eyes so I could breathe a little of my own true opinion into things (not wanting my sometimes strong opinions to affect my husband's chances of getting into shows, that's not fair to him).

I joined them so that I could stay in touch with old friends (who are not in the picture posting category, it seems only to be Handsome's theatre posse), so I won't forget their birthdays, so I know when theatre stuff is coming up...it's brought me and my cousin who I fell out of touch with over the years closer together.

It has it's advantages, but then I realize the invasive power of it all when I see a friend out of the blue who asks me if my back is feeling better. "Oh yeah, I posted that on Facebook" I remind myself. And then I wonder if I'm sharing too much. But there are people I want to know what's going on in my life but if the stage manager's husband from Handsome's cast 4 shows ago wants to be my "friend" doesn't it make me a total bitch to deny their request?

I hate the invasiveness of it all right now. I hate the invisible competition that I seem to be in without wanting to be in it.

Moxie's always kind of danced to the beat of her own drummer and I know that there are people in Handsome's circle who think I'm weird because I could give a rat's ass about "America's Next Top Model" or "Sex in the City". They're shocked that I'm not into that stuff. I'd rather read a book or see a show or go to a museum.

I think I forgot the point to this post. So sorry. I think it was something about feeling like I'm in a fishbowl.

Anybody else have thoughts about Facebook/Myspace? Am I just being a snob/paranoid?

Just Curious...

Being the Marketing Maven and Ad Guru that I am, I'm curious....help me out on this one.

We had a huge discussion today about what was worse....junk mail in your mailbox

or spam in your inbox...


Thoughts, comments, suggestions?

The Glory of Spam

I have a love/hate relationship with the potted meat product known as Spam. However, as I was browsing thru the latest edition of Advertising Age, I was shocked to see that Spam is making a dramatic comeback in these times of economic crisis....

Go Spam.....

Mind you, my first experience with Spam was in high school junior year history class. When we had to "use the facilities" we were given a hall pass attached to a can of Spam. It was our teacher's trademark hall pass. When our IB History class graduated, we all got Spam shirt...


Deep, dark, dirty serious confession time...

I've yet to try it. It scares me....

Nonetheless, I'm fascinated...I love it's "pop culture icon" status.
Maybe I just love Weird Al...


Maybe I just love "Spamalot" (One of the most incredibly funniest musical ever written)...



Check out their website. Check out the ads...


Maybe check out some recipes such as...

Caesar SPAMBURGER® Hamburger
Mac 'n SPAM® 'n Cheese
Maple SPAM™ Stuffed Squash
Reuben Baked Potatoes(This one's for you, DLC!)
SPAMBALAYA™ Jambalaya
And, Of course, for dessert.....

SPAM™ Cupcakes

*Moxie Mama is not to be held responsible for any gastronomical difficulties incurred by trying above recipes. I have not tried them, nor will I be coaxed into doing so. Cook and consume at your own risk.*

Shutz Up. I want thez....

Lol cats...retarded, I know...I still want these magnets!

Pain in the back...

Friday morning Darling didn't want to get out of bed, so I decided to pick her up. She went one way in her obstinancy, I went the other in my insistence.

Annnnnddd...my back went out. I could barely walk.

I was pampered and babied Friday/Saturday. I even was able to sit thru the Royals game Friday night (Thanks, Mr. Budweiser) and saw the incredible fireworks show.

Monday morning I woke up in abject misery. Maybe I overdid the housework on Sunday. I still screwed myself up something fierce.

Heating pads, Alleve, even a muscle relaxer haven't touched it. Maybe it's time to go to the chiropractor that I use in cases of emergency. I hate going, but this is getting ridiculous.

first ever baseball game

If you haven't seen this and you call yourself a true baseball fan, slap yourself, watch, pee your pants and move on with your life. Sorry I can't find a better video. Close your eyes and just listen and imagine...

I'll get crucified for this

If I see one more Facebook/MySpace/Blogger/news item related to the untimely and admittedly tragic death of George Carlin, I'm going to go postal.


YES...I agree, he was incredible.


YES...I agree the 7 bad words you can't say on tv was one of the funniest sketches EVER.


YES...he was a comic/pulp culture ICON...


YES... I loved him ever since "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure"


Let's move on...Ok? I'm done.


As much as I enjoyed his humor, honestly...guys, seriously? It's not like we've lost a great icon in American History. Be honest...I was more upset when Mitch Hedberg died. George made a little moment, stirred a little mud...his funnyness/salient point is done. Mitch was cut down in the prime of his glory (Belushi anyone?)


And yes, I realize by posting this post, I'm only prolonging it...

Rest in peace, George...ya done good. Thanks for passing the torch/challenge to others...I'll drink to you everytime I watch something you're in and curse like a drunken sailor, just for you, because you were one of my first comedic adorations...

Antebellum Underwear

Dearest Constant Reader...If you are a Constant Reader, you know that I work at a local museum a few weekends a month. I've also promised myself (and my advisor before I graduated) that I would be a serious historian and never break down and do "living history" (ie. be a crazy obsessed reenactor who has no sense of academia to the period).

But.....wellll.....Moxie wants a pretty dress.

I'll admit I have hoop skirt envy. There's just a splash of me that wants to channel my inner Scarlett O'Hara (shut up! She was a strong independent woman in her own way).

It will come in handy for several events that are coming up this fall. It's tax deductible since it's for my job and well, after 5 years, I'm ready for a pretty period appropriate dress (see...I'm justifying my purchase in a totally sensible and reasonable way!).

So I've started researching. I can, within my museum's time period, pick one from the Civil War to the 1930's....who am I kidding? I'm going Civil War ball gown. Not practical, but, oh so pretty.

I discuss with Handsome, who spoils me and let's me have what I want usually when it's completely reasonable. Which I am since I hate spending money.

Me: "This is the dress I'm thinking of..."

Handsome: "So, you'll need a hoop skirt..."

Me: "Yep"

Handsome: "What else?"

Me: "Well, probably a corset..."

Handsome: "Really? What else?"

Me: "I'm not sure, probably ear bobs, a fan, a hair snood, lace gloves, maybe a choker...I need to research..."

Handsome: "What else underneath? Did they wear garters or something?"

Ahhh....I see where this is going...

Me, playing cool/dumb: "Why do you ask? People aren't going to see it. I was planning on just wearing a regular strapless bra and underwear, I don't need to be TOTALLY authentic..."

Handsome (my actor always): "Well, you should be in character..."

Me: "You just want to see me in my chemise, don't you?"

Handsome: "Well somebody has to help you get dressed...and undressed....and I know how modest you usually are, I'm glad to volunteer..."

Me: "Aha....a fantasy?!"

Handsome: "I just like being helpful"

Me: "Uh-huh..."

Handsome (blatantly staring at my boobs): "I do what I can to support you"

Me: "Thanks, honey, I appreciate it. You realize mid-1800 undergarments aren't exactly Victoria's Secret, right?"

Handsome: "That only makes them all the more intriguing..."

Me: "Ok, but that means you need to start wearing your kilt around the house more often.....authentically...." (He wore a kilt for our wedding).

Handsome: "No problem, I'll even bend over seductively for you"

Me: "Thanks"

Handsome: "I do what I can..."

So, the entire point to this post is, well, there is no point except I'm kind of shocked that he would find corsets and petticoats and hoop-skirts sexy...

Not that I'm complaining...There have been costumes that he's worn that might have been brought home for extra-curricular activities a time or two, but I'm not used to being on the receiving end of such intrigue...

So much for the SI Swimsuit Edition, I'll get him Godey's Ladies Journal for his porn time fun....

I'm SO getting laid when I get that dress! SCORE!

Man Caves, Beware

So, Handsome's Father's Day present was to allow him to take the spare bedroom in our house and turn it into a Man Cave (a very small one, since it's the third small bedroom).

A nice restful place that he can set up his home office (he works from home at least once a week), have a place for all of his theatre books/paraphenalia from shows he's done and a closet for all his tools. A place that all his video game stuff can go when his friends come over.

He deserves it. He works hard and he spoils Darling and I rotten.

I know he had visions of being on the show Man Caves on DIY Network, but we both doubted that a Musical Theatre themed Cave would be a very good episode for the average red blooded American male. (I assure you his virility is well in tact. They aren't ALL gay.)

Everything was fine and dandy until his brothers started chiming in. With their crazy crack-pipe ideas. Now walls want to come down and extensive electrical wiring is involved.

We're not even going to mention the need (desire) for a 52" plasma TV (to save space you know).

In my mind, it only involved a new coat of paint, a mini-fridge, maybe some new "manly curtains" and furniture moving.

Sigh...what have I gotten myself into?

A KC Mob Hit (to be)!

So, if you're in the greater Kansas City metro area tomorrow night, Tuesday, June 17th, head down to Union Station.

It's the 75th anniversary of the Union Station Massacre and they are commemorating the lives lost during that horrible day.

Plus, you'll be one of the first to see "Shooting Back in Time: The Union Station Massacre" by local historian Terrance O'Malley.

If you're interested in KC mob history, this will be pretty cool. It's only $10 and it beats sitting at home watching re-runs on tv.

Oh yeah. The "bullet holes" aren't real. I've seen them up close and no way a machine gun did that. But, local legends are always interesting, true or not.

Check out this article, just so you're "in the know" in case you don't know. Tony would be tickled to know our city hall has been corrupt for decades!

Oh yeah, they are STILL there . . . be careful of the other dead bodies lying around the place.

No Extra Insurance Needed on Friday the 13th

Stats can be warped to prove anything. Apparently Friday the 13th is safer than any other Friday.

Huh. Guess it's safe to pet my mom's black cat, Vader tonight if we go over there for dinner. That's good to know. I love that cat.

I still like the folklore and superstitions anyway. Makes life a bit more interesting.

I guess I need more thrills in my life.



Still, if I hear that creepy music today, or see a guy walking around in a face mask, I'm outta here.

F'in Disney Princesses....

Fine. Alright. I quit. I gave it a hell of a good fight. Burn my damn Women's Lib card.

Today, after a 3.5 year struggle against the Marketing Gods of Disney, I'm throwing in the towel.

I hate the Disney Princesses (for the most part). Weak, shallow, "Oh come save me Handsome Prince" crap.

Yes, Darling owns "The Little Mermaid", "Sleeping Beauty", "Aladdin" "Hunchback of Notre Dame" etc. but I've always drilled into her that she should never ever settle for "Princess-ship" when being the "Queen" is the ultimate in control and self-determination.

We've repeated over and over, "I'm the Queen, not the Princess. I can do it myself"...

It's not so much women's lib stuff but self determination and a sense of adventure. Seriously, who wants to nap thru the excitement (Sleeping Beauty) or have to dress up to impress a guy who can't see it in the very first place (Cinderella)? I'm a do-it-yourself, rely on yourself kind of girl and want my daughter to never be dependent on a man to make it thru life. That's all..

Yeah, well, so...

Today Darling came home from the babysitters with her hair re-done (GRRRR!!!!) out of her usual cute pigtails into braids.

Like Pocahontas.

"Look Mama! I'm Pocahontas!"

And my ancestors (my whatever generation it was great grandmother was her granddaughter) wept and rolled in their graves.

Sorry, guys, I tried, but ya can't beat Disney.

I know that kids movies can't be completely historically accurate, but seriously. "Pocahontas" bugs me beyond belief and I swore she would never see it, so help me GOD!...Thanks, Babysitter...but it's not like I'm going to say anything to you because I don't want to be one of "those parents" and most people would see it as slight liberties with the truth...

SHE WAS KIDNAPPED, CAST AWAY HER FAMILY TRADITIONS AND DIED OF F'ING SMALLPOX!!! JOHN SMITH MADE THE WHOLE SAVING HIM THING UP!!!

Hardly admirable and hardly a Disney ending, really.

I suppose it could have been worse. Don't even get me started on "Anastasia".

Nevertheless, I'm weak, I'm weary, can't fight preschool peer pressure and I give up. As long as I can balance those negative woman images with something more positive like "Mulan" or even "Belle" maybe there's a chance for her self esteem yet.

Handsome says I'm too uptight about it all, but it makes me sick how many ADULTS think movies like "300", "Braveheart" "Glory" et al are true depictions of what really happened.

Sometimes the true stories are more dramatic than the Hollywood versions. They may not be as "cinematically pleasing" but sometimes we need to learn from tragedy and others' mistakes....

But whatever. Someday when Darling's older, I'll sit down with her and have the "Good Heroines/Bad Heroines" talk.

Sigh...

Creating positive self esteem in young girls is a frightening battle.

MO has the cheapest gas!

Huh. Living near the KS state line, everyone knows gas is cheaper in Missouri. Apparently here are the reasons.

That's great and all, but gas is still WAY too expensive.

My Grade School Arch Nemesis

After reading Sizzle's fabulous (duh, as usual) post, and then running across Sturdy Girl's equally brave post, I started contemplating my own school age arch nemesis. I'll call her Hickey for reasons I won't explain. Needless to say, she caused me incredibly painful moments throughout my 3rd to 11th grade years (then I realized she was pathetic, shallow and doomed to be a "soccer mom"...in a not good way and she didn't disappoint).

Let's start at the beginning...When I was really young (kindergarten to 3rd grade), my BFF lived 7 doors down from me and was named Annie...(so named because when we were in first grade we were both obsessed with "Annie" the movie that had just come out. We were so dedicated, Annie dyed her beautiful chestnut hair with red Kool-Aid and cut it one very naughty afternoon.)

Around 3rd grade, Hickey showed up. She moved 3 doors down from me on the other side. She was an only child of divorced and remarried parents. She set her sights on my BFF.

Being the way that I was (and at the constant encouraging of our parents) the three of us tried to be friends...

Well, friends and neighbors, 2's company, 3's a crowd and I was the odd gal out mostly because I refused to see the bad in anyone. (A tragic flaw of mine to this day.)

Anyway, I slowly got ebbed out of Annie's life. I had not at 9 yrs old learned the art of warfare. I was the oldest of big family of 5. Everybody accepted everything. Apparently (in retrospect), Hickey was too paranoid to accept anyone but Annie.

In order to break our bond, she employed all tactics of pre-pubescent cruelty upon me. When I got glasses, she was the first to laugh, if I wore something that she didn't approve of, she criticized (in front of everyone). Since I didn't like "Sav ed by the Bell" I was ostracized. When I fell in the lake (where we lived) trying to jump from the dock to boat, she laughed. She destroyed my self-confidence in those delicate years...I was never cool enough or good enough for the trampoline parties at Annie's next door neighbor's house(whose older brother I had a DESPERATE crush on).

Annie's fault, in retrospect, was that she was weak and just wanted to be everybody's friend. That's what I wanted, but I got shoved to the side, all the time missing swinging on her swings and digging in the sand under them for buried treasure.

The ultimate Hickey insult came when we were in 8th grade. I had given a speech and was nominated to go to the State convention to compete. Hickey laughed at the bus stop about me orating about Martin Luther King.

Annie didn't defend me that day.

I remember riding the bus to our junior high that day, tears silently rolling down my face...even 20 years later there's a spark of pain over that memory. Even my statewide victory didn't quell that pain....not even still...

By my junior year of high school, Annie and Hickey were on the cheerleading squad and I was a State award winning editor of our school paper, a State award winner of our debate and forensics program and in the advanced English and History classes. I found my niche and my nerdy people. I was happy (except when she looked down at her nose at me).

I still am feeling inferior (in retrospect).

I didn't go to my 10 yr reunion, not because I was afraid of seeing Hickey and the football player (stereotypes do come true!) she married a few months out of high school...I was at my cousin's wedding that weekend....

Fuck, I would have loved to have looked her in the eyes and asked if she was truly happy...

I would have loved to have shown off my drop dead gorgeous husband and compared him with the potbellied sack (but oh so dear hearted, truly...why did HE marry HER?!?) guy she married...

I would have loved to have compared notes of how, yes, yes I do have an incredible career after I GRADUATED COLLEGE, 'cause see, I didn't get knocked up right away..Have you seen my art? Have you ever visited my hobby of a museum? See how incredible the guy I married is, how much he loves me compared to the used car salesman burn out you married? See the pictures of my beautiful daughter? She's somebody who will change the world. Your kids?...Oh...they're ok....

I have learned the art of the well placed snub...

Alas, I guess there is always the 15 or 20 yr reunion.

Damn....I'm more petty than normal tonight, but fuck...it's empowering...

Getting To Know You Meme

Ohhh...I love these things. There should be a self-help group dedicated to answering quizzes. Got tagged for this one by Brigindo at dirtandrocks.

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was living in my first apartment with my then Handsome boyfriend. We were both still in school and I guess in June of 1998 I was busy teaching swim lessons at Longview Rec Center and trying not to kill my 2 stripper roommates. (Grocery shopping was fun with them.)


2. Five things on my to do list for today.
finish up work projects, pick up Darling, make frozen pizza, flop on the couch next to Handsome and catch up on all our DVR shows.

3. Snacks I enjoy.
Peanut M&M's, apples with peanut butter and sour cream and chedder Ruffles

4. Things I would do if I was a billionaire.
Set up all the members of my family for life (ok, only the deserving ones), quit my job, travel the world, start a theatre company for Handsome and donate the rest.

5. Places I have lived:
I'm really boring. Only metro KC.

Biggest Loser: Presidential Edition

They say that history is written by the victors, and well, that's true. I'll be the first to admit that I'm disgruntled and uninspired by the 2008 POTUS Candidate Crop. I really wanted the Democrats to get their party in order and kick some Republican butt in this election because I think it's time for a party shift in the White House. (I vote by the candidate and issues, not the party.)

I'm neither an Obama Mama (he seems slightly smarmy/slimy to me, like a snake oil salesman) nor do I have McCain Mania (He reminds me too much of a Reagan-gopher love child, plus, I don't like his politics either).

I don't care which one of them wins the election because, quite frankly, John and Jane Q. Public are still ultimately the biggest losers in '08. We need a Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt (hell, I'd settle for a Madison or a Wilson at this point)this year and apparently we're SOL.

So, I think I'll write a few posts about the guys who've ran The Big Race and gotten the toughest electoral spankings by the voters.

First up is good ol' Barry Goldwater who embarrassed himself by losing to LBJ in 1964(61.1% LBJ over 38.5% Goldwater in the biggest landslide of the popular vote).

This Republican Senator from Arizona was considered "Mr. Conservative" and during the social unrest of the 1960's actually campaigned with a platform calling for the end of The New Deal programs of FDR, labor unions and welfare. His foreign policy was labeled as so hard-line militant anti-Communist (he had also served as a Major General in the Air Force Reserves) that LBJ was able to use that against him and declare nuclear annihilation by the Soviet Union if he got elected.

Goldwater lost so badly that he carried only 6 states, including his home state.

So, was he really all that bad? That depends on how you feel about conservatives, I guess....

Apparently McCain liked him, summing up Goldwater's legacy thus: "He transformed the Republican Party from an Eastern elitist organization to the breeding ground for the election of Ronald Reagan.” (Way to go, Barry, just what we needed ~insert sarcasm~)

This is a funny antidote:

Journalist Robert MacNeil, a friend of Goldwater's from the 1964 Presidential campaign, recalled interviewing him in his office shortly afterward. "He was sitting in his office with his hands on his cane...and he said to me, 'Well, aren't you going to ask me about the Iran arms sales?' It had just been announced that the Reagan administration had sold arms to Iran. And I said, 'Well, if I asked you, what would you say?' He said, 'I'd say it's the god-damned stupidest foreign policy blunder this country's ever made!'"

HA! Too bad he died in 1998 and missed out on the stupidity of the 21st Century~

Here are some interesting things Barry Goldwater has said...

"Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And let me remind you also that moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue."

"Let's lob one (nuclear weapon) into the men's room at the Kremlin."

"…we, as a nation, are not far from the kind of moral decay that has brought on the fall of other nations and people…I say it is time to put conscience back in government. And by good example, put it back in all walks of American life."

"Everyone knows that gays have served honorably in the military since at least the time of Julius Caesar . . . You don't have to be straight to be in the military; you just have to be able to shoot straight."

"I certainly believe in aliens in space. They may not look like us, but I have very strong feelings that they have advanced beyond our mental capabilities....I think some highly secret government UFO investigations are going on that we don't know about — and probably never will unless the Air Force discloses them."

"Hubert Humphrey talks so fast that listening to him is like trying to read Playboy magazine with your wife turning the pages."

"I could have ended the war in a month. I could have made North Vietnam look like a mud puddle."

"I think every good Christian ought to kick Falwell right in the ass."

Armageddon or this week in Kansas City...You Decide...

Saw this AWESOME picture on Gary Lezak's Weather blog this morning. Wow. Very cool! Unlike the weather that seems to be approaching this evening...

Taco Bell Munchies

I'm starving...Mexican Phone Book Company, anyone?

Intense, Irrational Fear

Go ahead and make fun of me...everybody else does.

I can't help it. I can't control it. I'm incurable.

I'm afraid of gnomes, garden variety or otherwise.

I know how it sounds, but ever since I was a little child and saw them in picture books with their rosy little apple cheeks and pointy red hats, I just didn't like them. And then when I was about 11 our neighbors put about 8 of them in their yard. And those creepy little f*ckers would stare out at me behind the shrubs and azaleas. No matter where they were, they would be staring right at me. I swear they even moved around her yard, even when she was on vacation. I hated them.

Popular mythology has painted them with a kind brush, but I know better. I don't buy into that David the Gnome propaganda. That Travelocity gnome? Just a patsy for their plot to take over the world. I'd never buy plane tickets thru that little f*cker. What's with the English accent? Authentic gnomes are from Germany...suspicious or a conspiracy, I'm not sure...

I'm proud that JK Rowling had the courage to expose them for what they really are: mean tempered little bastards that bite.



Sure, I get alot of teasing about my fear. My husband's friend even threatened to defile our front yard with them on my birthday as a form of shock therapy. (Handsome wisely advised him not to do so).

No one can understand why a mostly rational, college educated adult would quake with fear over something in my imagination. Sorry, but I just can't shake the heebie jeebies from my childhood.

I did find this very helpful site to assist me in justifying my fear: Garden Gnome From Hell!
See! I'm not the only one!

So, tonight, tired from work, I come into the house and Handsome calls me over to the computer:
"Hey, watch this!" pointing to a YouTube video.

I squint. Stare. "What is that? Bigfoot or something?" and then it becomes all too clear...GNOMES IN ARGENTINA!!!! AHHHH!!! My worst fear caught on some kid's camera phone! This was worse for me than "The Grudge". I almost peed my pants.

Aparently there's been gnome sightings there in the last year or so. Is there such a thing as Gnome Busters, I wonder?

Watch this real life horror film. It's truly scary. Wait for :45. That's all I'm saying. Very frightening.

Thundery Thunder

Oh my God, I'm having a meterological orgasm RIGHT. NOW.....

I love summer thunderstorms. LOVE, love, LOVE them. Hardly anything is as exhilirating and powerful as a good ol' fashioned window shakin' holy-crap-are-the-windows-going-to-shatter summer thunderstorm!

I've had a long, steamy, humid and wet affair with Mother Nature's temper tantrum....

When I was growing up, I would lay on my parent's dock (grew up at a lake) right next to the alumninum fishing boat and just rock with the waves as the rain pelted me. (Think Lieutinant Dan ala Forest Gump).

When we lived at our turn of the century shirtwaist, we had a deep, deep front porch that would allow me to sit in comfort and enjoy Mother Nature's rath.

When we lived at our 1920's airplane bungalow, I had a screened in, deep porch that would allow me to sit in comfort and enjoy Mother Nature's fertility as I contemplated the scariness of my first pregnancy.

Where we live now? I'm enjoying the small little portico over our front steps as I am lashed with early summer rain and dream of the day Handsome and Best Father In Law In the World build me my screened in porch.

Sigh...

Better to Love or Be Loved?

I'm going to get all philosophical here for a bit.

I'm a notorious re-reader. For me, my relationships with certain books, like old friends change over time. I grow, I mature, I understand them differently. Some stories are just too good to read just once.

My most recent re-read was an old favorite: "We the Living" by Ayn Rand. I haven't read it in probably 10 years, so I figured it was time.

I went out with one of my favorite gal pals the other night and we emptied a bottle (or two) of wine, which is always a great precursor to philosophy. Since she was a lit major in college, I mentioned that I just got done reading Ayn's first book. (We're both big fans, even if we don't agree about Objectivism)

My friend posed the question: "Stripping away all of the 1920's Soviet influences, Rand's personal agendas, etc. it's the classic love triangle. So, which is better: to love someone who doesn't love you or to be loved by someone you don't love?"

My stance? I'm a "giver"...I couldn't help myself if I wanted to in loving someone who doesn't love me back. Even if I get hurt, I'd rather take the risk of heartbreak. I'd rather feel something rather than nothing. Maybe I'm a glutton for betrayal?

My friend? She's security minded. She would rather have someone take care of her who truly loved her even if she didn't feel that way. She would at least have someone she could always count on.

I'm still torn...discuss amongst yourselves....

Sidenote:
Moxie's Summer Re-Read List:
"The Historian" by Elizabeth Kostova
"Time Traveller's Wife" by Audrey Niffenegger
"A Tree Grows In Brooklyn" by Betty Smith
"Main Street" by Sinclair Lewis
"House of the Seven Gables" by Nathaniel Hawthorne