Are you "In"competent?

The Myers Briggs personality test…http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp, I recommend taking it and see where you fall. I am an ESFJ, I know most of you think that stands for “extremely sexy female jokester” and… you’d be right but that’s another website for another day. This ESFJ stands for “extraverted sensing feeling judging” which means I’m a hyper-vigilant (paranoid) entertaining (like a car wreck?) control freak (Martha?) that wrestles with “right or wrong”(I’m 4 years old) and gets their feelings hurt easily (big baby). Sad and here are my famous ESFJ’s counterparts… Don Knotts (true and scary), Loni Anderson (really?), and Donald Duck (believe or not, I relate). Now what I found amusing is that you can look into who would be compatible with you…boy the guys got to be frightful, looking for a toddler to fold his towels while dancing and singing all the while worrying about if everyone’s washed their hands but also crying about whether to return the accidentally swiped Band-Aids from the bottom of the shopping cart… wow, I sound hotter than I thought I would. How much would that cost to put on a personal ad?

over-medicated

Last week I got a lovely urinary tract infection, in turn I was prescribed an antibiotic. That same night I started my meds I got a sore throat, but hey I’m on meds no worries. Next night yeast infection crept into my life and then a few days later Aunt Flo came to town. I know I’m writing this all with ease but I assure you I have not slept and I am definitely homicidal. Plus I have placed caution tape all over me like as if I were a condemned building ready to be torn down. Anyway yesterday was the last of my meds and my throat is the worst! So I head back to the doctor. She bolts in starts asking me questions rapid fire then talks about a new regime of 10 day meds, somehow the yeast thing comes up she says don’t treat it till the end of meds cause you’ll just get another one…what!? Oh I forgot to check your ears... no I heard you said don’t treat the yeast…Are You SEriOuS! Were you in the Special Forces? Some high intense training program when they tortured you with the most unthinkably torturous torture ever! How brilliant the government must be, put women on a five dollar antibiotic then wait for the yeast, then send them in…the anger, the cricket quick leg movements because of the need to scratch, the clawing, the unintentional karate skills, these ladies would be WMD’s. Wait… wait for their menstrual cycle to start and double whammy, these would be the Jason Bournes’ but Jessica’s and wow, scary. Now I’ve been rambling for what seems to be hours and she starts to ask about my family history and mental health… crap I’m screwed… I’ll now be writing you on my rationed toilet paper from the “state country club”…ugh…

5-13-08

http://freakonomics.blogs.nytimes.com/

If you need any other advice on future articles please call my people...

Favorite emotion

http://www.hulu.com/

Arrested Development
The Office
Or Saturday Night Live's Sean Connery on Jeopardy

For kicks and giggles.
Cause I got nothing.

Misty Winds 4-28-08

Is it my job to teach a boy to pee standing up? (As I am a girl or a woman or a milady…the waitress kept calling me that the other night, no we weren’t in England) This is the dilemma I faced as my 4 year old had to pee so badly that when I asked if he could “hold it” until we got home meant him literally clamping down on it like a vise. So anyway we decided to just pull over and let him pee outside (grandmas and grandpas remain calm). Now he has been trained to pee sitting down… this is after the research I have done with my oldest and knowing you guys can’t aim for squat. Sitting down has a 73% chance of staying within the “boundaries” that are allotted for the average bowl. Now being that I, me, numero uno, is the only one cleaning that area then I am going with the statistics. Ok that said peeing outside was kind of a bust, some went this way, a lot went that way, but very little just went away from him. So this then led to the discussion of who should have shown him how to perform this maneuver. I believe I have clearly stated that I am not “equipped” to teach and so it is not my responsibility. Done. End. Finite. Another person in my household, his title rhymes with “paddy”, constantly proclaims his “equippedness” to anyone who can hear. Perhaps this said person should have taken the tyke out back for some “water gun” training? Um… I win…

Snazzy Seniors

Now that spring has kinda sprung (3 days in the 70's) I must officially ask my Grandma H. (again) to spill the beans on the top secret matching outfits that are popping up all over. We know the ones matching pant, t-shirt, and if you splurge... a vest, and even sometime the bedazzled/appliquéd purse. The ones that have colors even Crayola has yet to invent, with patterns and flowers that are not of this planet. Now my theory is... and you know I'm semi- brilliant, that when a woman reaches a certain plateau, level, maturity, whoamIkidding age, they receive secret entry to the underground of... let's say Sears. Here they must swipe their computer chipped card or perhaps they have some code or password to enter this covert subterranean hangout where the other blue hairs... excuse me... silver foxes are converging on the latest polyester treasure. They must all must sign some highfalutin contract, they probably use the lawyers of "Survivor", so that it won't be exposed on "Inside Edition" or Geraldo (he's still working, correct?) See my grandma won't budge, no hint, nothing so I'm thinking she scared of being sued of her social security. The only thing is I not sure of what age this transformation takes place... and how can I avoid, evade, escape, and bypass this elastic plastic invasion where I don't have the power to match on my own! I'm frightened...

Enviromentally hip

Welcome Earth Day! To do my part I am only eating the green M&M’s, wearing an attractive shade of hunter green eye shadow, only watching shows with eco friendly topics (crossing my fingers that American Idol will have a green theme), sparing squares(t.p. people), and I may even have salad for dinner! Baby steps…

Waiting...

Men you just don’t know what women go through when we go to the gyno’s office.
First lets start by saying it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve gone you can’t get used to it, so shut it with the prostate check stories. Always it seems that no matter early or late you arrive, you wait and wait in the waiting room for an eternity, which is lovely. So my visit recently wasn’t any different. An hour in the waiting room before I get to go back and “empty my bladder”, take my blood pressure, and get weighed, let the good times begin. Then off to the room where the nurse informs you everything off, robe open to front, sheet to cover, and he’ll be with you in a sec. So immediately you strip in NASCAR time only to waiting for another 40 minutes. This time though I had the pleasure of listening to the conversation the doc was having with another patient because of the paper thin walls. Apparently she (patient) had a “blue cap” stuck in her ya know. This went on forever, “well maybe it’s from my recent hospital stay?” “No” he replies “not that.” On and on she doesn’t know how it got there all the while I’m staring at the clock. Let’s go already and at this point I’m ready to storm over there robe open and scream “tell him were it came from already!” “I’m not double jointed and I don’t have an array of mirrors to help me do it myself!” Anyway this doesn’t happen and we still haven’t concluded where the mysterious “blue cap” has come from…alien abduction, some sort of government experiment, who knows! Finally the knock comes to my door …yea it’s my turn (ugh), let the small awkward chit-chat begin.

miscommunication

Is it me or is every time you give your child directions they silently must hear “and do it as loudly as you can.”

Example: Please get ready for school… slam all doors as you do it, huff and puff like you’re in Wimbledon, and make sure as you put on your cologne so the rest of the family gags (that means you got the right amount). Oh, but don’t flush the toilet you may wake your brother.

Example: Put on your shoes and grab your backpack…while doing so stomp hard so the house vibrates and scream complaints that have been bothering you while you were sleeping.

Example: Let’s go… but look for the largest toy in the house to bring with and when I reply with a “no” drop to the ground and scream and kick like you’re a ride at a carnival.

Maybe it’s just me…

Entomophobia

As I leave Wal-mart with my sister and three of our kids, bees converge on us.

I just load the car ignoring the pests. My sister on the other hand cannot, she freaks.

I try and tell her to calm down but this is as she pushes the cart away from her because they are landing on her grocery bags. The problem with this is that her one year old is in the cart also, and her 5 year old has wandered off to save himself not from bees but flailing arms. I finish loading my car then proceed to get a front row seat to the action.

She has now composed herself enough to get the cart to the car. As she begins loading the vehicle she uses items in the bags as weapons (also at this time another onlooker has joined her audience). She seems to prancing as she uses a Kraft macaroni and cheese box to “shoo” away the buggers. She turns in full circles, I guess to cover the entire circumference of the area. She then just throws the box. I, of course, am peeing myself and crying overcome with laughter. The box did not accomplish what she wanted, so she whips that in the car. At this point her mothering instincts finally kick in and she places her children in the van out of harms way (her). Now her dance technique has become a bit harder her prancing is more stomping and her weapon now is a whole bag full of stuff. But I absolutely enjoy that she has kept her 360 move because I do enjoy that the most. I am also grateful that the parking spot next to her is open because her movements span a larger area and again this show is for me. Watching her for what seems like 15 minutes she is done with her task and safely in the car. The performance is done. Brava!

P.S. Remind me to tell you about the time she was outside with the kids and a bee came she ran inside slamming the door leaving the little ones to fend for themselves, screaming, crying, and building there phobia. Priceless…