Saturday, February 28, 2009

The Post That Should Have Been About Peas And Carrots.

I did an about face tonight. I originally had planned a post about the elderly woman who asked me to help her find DelMonte peas and carrots at the supermarket. It's a funny story.

I came up to bed with my trusty computer. Turned on the tv. Channel surfed. Don't ask me why, but after a few flicks I came upon Fox. Ugh!!!!

Are these people for real?????

I pray to MY GOD that Sean Hannity(does he remind anyone else of the "whose on first" comedy routine?) loses his job and has to apply for health benefits plus looses his house.(Not to mention rot in hell. think that's a little harsh?)

I'm just going to rant here. Sorry. Here goes........

The deficit? W (aka Republican) ran the deficit so high that it equals ALL PREVIOUS 42 PRESIDENTS COMBINED.

So much for small government. Yeah, those Republicans. So fiscally responsible.

So here's the thing. Its been stated here many times, I am a reformed Republican. I know, I know. What the fuck was I thinking? WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING?

It took tragic events in my life for me to see the light. Really. It did.

My husband provided for his family our whole married life. I was basically a stay at home mom. We had wonderful health benefits, including vision, dental and $1.00 prescriptions.

When I went into premature labor with Devin, the pharmacist told me I was damn lucky I had the insurance I did because the pills were $90.00 for 10. I had to take them for two months every four hours. You do the math. Plus were talking 22 years ago. Just thank God we had insurance. What if we hadn't? Was my Devin from Heaven's life worth less than someone who had insurance. I think anyone who has met him knows he is a gift from God.

Fast forward 20 years. Husband drops dead. Wife no longer has insurance. Wife has masters degree, but since wife stayed home to raise kids, degree is pretty much worthless. Wife goes back to work. Wife works for dentist office but has to purchase own insurance. Wife applies for health insurance. Wife denied insurance.
REASON: History of depression.
Wife says: WTF, history of depression??????

Turns out after husband dropped dead in kitchen, wife just happened to have Dr. appt. about a month later. Started crying in Dr. office after Dr. asked me how I was doing. So Dr. gave me Prozac. With two refills. I filled the Rx . Took it for a few weeks. It got a little easier as each day went on. I was finally able to complete sentences. (notice I didn't say write complete sentences!) Never felt the need to refill Rx.

Fast, fast forward. Wife applies for health insurance. They deny me because I have a history of depression.


Moral of story: when all the Republicans talk about bailing lazy asses who don't want to work out. FUCK YOU. My husband would still be alive if he would have just taken a day off to go to the Dr.

Plus, I didn't have a high risk mortgage that I couldn't afford and shouldn't have gotten. My husband just happened to drop dead. So there went my income. Sorry. I kept up for over five years. Don't think I can do it much longer.

So before you judge all us lazy ass so called Socialists, I'm probably 99% sure that my husband worked harder than most all of you. And it's a damn shame he was worth more dead than alive.

So all of you who are against the whole nationalized health insurance. Please, please rethink. Most of you work for a corporation. You have never had to worry. They just insure you and you have no worries.

In this economy, what happens when you loose that corporate job? Or if your company makes you purchase your own insurance.


So when you talk against Obama's stimulus package. And you say "I work hard and it's not my problem that these people are in trouble." Remember "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

I'll tell you about the peas and carrots lady another time. I promise.

*Next day: Just remembered I wrote this late last night. Gee, I sounded a little more pissed off than usual. I think I'll get Fox (Faux)News blocked from my TV. Rum and Fox and late night blogging are not a good mix for me. Sorry.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Working On A Dream

Last night I had a dream I was dreaming. Isn't that weird?
In the dream I was sleeping at my parents empty home; I was dreaming about their dining room set. And I woke up (in the dream) and told my brother that I know mummy's china closet isn't in the dining room but I had a dream that it was. In the dreams dream I woke up walked down the steps and leaned on the china closet and then went back upstairs and woke up and told my brother about the dream. And then I woke up. For real woke up. Really.

Does anyone have a bookie friend to get a number on that? Whats the number to play if you dream of dreaming? Or dream of a china closet? Or dream of a empty house? Or dream of your brother? Oh, the possibilities are endless. I'll be rich! Or broke from playing too many numbers.

I wish my Nana were alive. She would certainly be looking up that dream for a good number. She was always looking for good numbers to play.

If my mom were still with us, I'm sure she would ask the girls at the beauty parlor. They always had the number books. One time she had a dream about something I can't remember but they told her to play 215. She did. They all did. And they all hit.I swear. Maybe I should call Ruth and Frans Beauty Salon. Is that still open?
If not, I guess a psychiatrist will do.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Shout Out To All The Homo Lovin' Commies!

Is it just me, or did anyone else think Sarah Jessica Parker looked like The Wicked Witch of the West in Glenda the Good Witches' dress?

Just askin'. Not to be invidious or anything, but she is not aging gracefully.
The real reason for this post is that I just wanted to let you all know that I want Sean Penn to be my next husband. I love, love, love him. He would fit into Anger Management quite nicely, don't ya think?

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Laissez les bon temps rouler

At one time or another, all of the Anger Management Girls have had "a night" at Le Mardi Gras.

No need to regurgitate old news here. We all know who did what. We all know who rambled "wheresmycarwheresmycarwheresmycarwheresmycar" for two consecutive hours. Or who fell asleep on the bathroom floor (ah hmm). Or lost their lunch. We've all been there, done that.

This Tuesday is Fat Tuesday at Mardi Gras. I was thinking we should do a special Tuesday edition Anger Management this week. Think so?

For all you brave souls who want to join us, we will meet up at Les Mardi Gras on Copeland Street in Shadyside around 7:00. (first one there save a table, it gets crowded)
Who knows, you just might find your king!! HA.

Laissez les bon temps rouler! (“Let the good times roll!”)

Saturday, February 21, 2009

We Get By With A Little Help From Our Friends.

Something is wrong folks.

Something is seriously wrong.

I don't want to startle anyone. But something is wrong with me.

This morning I woke up in the am and MADE BREAKFAST. I know, I know. You all need a minute to catch your breath.

OK, so I am a little worried, because not only did I cook breakfast. I planned to cook breakfast.Those of you who know me, know I don't plan anything.
So yesterday I cooked a ham. Another shocker. Last night I cut it up and made one of those breakfast casseroles that have to sit overnight so the bread soaks up all the egg.

Oh yes I did. At 2AM.

Then, this morning I got up and put it in the oven and we ate breakfast. Just like a normal family. As a matter of fact, if you didn't know better, we could have been in a Norman Rockwell painting. Sort of. OK, lets just say Norman Rockwell on acid.

Please don't let this get out. My reputation is on the line here.

If I get up on Sunday and start making corn muffins (I actually used to do that EVERY Sunday) Will you all have an intervention?

Thanks, I knew I could count on my friends.

Speaking of needing the help of friends.

Our friends down at Hamebones need some help. If you can stop by and just spend a few bucks it would really help. This article was in today's Tribune Review.

Friday, February 20, 2009

The Inmates Take Over The Asylum

Allrighty then, the Anger Management Girls hook up with the Hashers. And as you might imagine. It was not pretty!!!!

Why, oh why didn't someone rescue that poor kid???????

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Up With The Big Dogs

Last night my beloved (cough, cough) dog Smokey went to the big kennel in the sky. That damn dog was a big pain in my ass. And that's exactly how he stole my heart. He was just like me.

You see, I've pretty much been a pain in the ass to people my whole life. My mother used to tell me that if I was her first child, I would have been her only child.

Teachers in school used to tell me if they didn't know my parents, they would wonder where I came from.

When we were cleaning out my parents house last week, I found about a dozen notes from my mother. They all said something on the order of "Dear Eileen, I went down Grams. You are grounded. When you get home from school STAY HOME." It seems I was always grounded for one reason or another.

So you get the point here.

Smokey was always in the dog house. He tried to be good. Really, he did. He would look at me. Then look at the cat he wanted to chase down the street. Look back at me. You could see the look on his face. Sort of like "Oh, please let me chase that cat. Please. Oh, I really, really need to chase that cat. Awww hell, I'm just going to chase the cat." And off he'd go. Chasing the damn cat.

Then there's the whole fixation he had with beds. He ate giant holes in every bed in the house. But that was just a phase. He got over that. He had to, there were no more beds in the house to chew.

He sat and watched my house get robbed. But then he bit my brother when he walked in my house. He also bit a neighbor and a jogger running down the street. Hey, they might of wanted to attack me or something. Ya know, a dog just never knows. Then he would look at me like he did a good thing. Like "hey ma, did I do good, did I? Did I?

Every morning when I would roll over to wake up. There he was. Staring into my face. Like he was saying "Mornin' Ma, what are we doing today, huh. huh? Lets go, up and atom!"

And just like me, he loved to dance. He did. He could stroll across a room on two feet. It was amazing. My son used to say if he didn't see it for himself, he would have never believed it.

He also stood on two feet er paws and unlocked doors. I swear. That little trick landed him in hot water quite a few times.

Smokey and I were like two old dogs that found each other.

Our very favorite place in the whole wide world is St. Mary's Cemetery in Lawrenceville. The first time I took him there and let him run loose, he thought he died and went to heaven. He would run in circles, run back to me and look at me as if to say "this is so much damn fun" and then run and return to me. He was a riot. We went there all the time to just walk around and visit old friends. Now I will add him to my list.

The last few weeks Smokey The Guard Dog (as he preferred to be called) just wasn't his usual self. He just didn't feel like dancing. If you know what I mean. So we went to vet last night and by the time I got him there, he could hardly breath. And, well you know the rest.......

When he was in trouble (which was often)I used to tell him he was going back to the big house. He just looked up at me with those sorry eyes. He knew I didn't mean it.

Bye Bye Smokers, you were a good dog and don't let anyone tell you any different!!!!!

And one more.

*Weird thing, these two pictures were taken last night before we left. I was grabbing my purse to go and the camera just happened to be sitting there so I took a few pictures.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Talk About Hugs And Kisses!!

So I think I've written about my nephew, Jeffrey Andrew David before. You know, the rock star. I brag about him to anyone who will listen.

Well, Jeff is "The Madonna's" first born. He was born on my 21st Birthday. Which happened to be the same day Pope John Paul II became Pope. October 16, 1978. He is my first nephew and also my godchild. So it's not like he's the favorite or anything. He has that same quality his mother has. Golden Child Syndrome. Bits knows what I'm talking about. Every family has one. The Madonna happened to be ours. So Bits and I have to live our lives knowing we'll always be second. Just like my cousin George!

Sigh....anyway, Jeff got engaged over the weekend. Maybe I'm just prejudiced but I have never seen two people so happy. I really haven't. When they are together, it's like no one else is in the room with them.

So it's been sort of an emotional weekend. While I am so happy for the two of them, I am so sorry my mother didn't live to see it. Oh my, no one would have even tried getting through on that phone line. I could hear her now. "Oh Babe, wait till you see the ring. Oh Babe, she is so sweet. Oh Babe, she's so gorgeous. Oh Babe, my Jeffrey Andrew David, I can't believe he's old enough to be getting married. Oh my Babe, what am I going to wear?"

A few hours later she would be saying "Oh Pats, wait till you see the ring, oh Pats, she is so sweet, oh Pats........"

The whole fun thing about all of this. Jeff was born and raised in Maryland. He met Kristy at work. They live in College Park, Maryland. But Kristy is from Pittsburgh.

They are looking at houses in Lawrenceville, of all places. A few short blocks from where my mom grew up. She would be so, so thrilled Jeff is finally moving to Pittsburgh.

God, I wish she were alive to see it.

I honestly believe that mom found Kristy for her Jeff. Anyone who knew my mom knew her grandkids were the most important thing in her life. Jeff was the apple of her eye. She never gave up getting him or Bits (Queen Elisabeth) closer to her up here in Pittsburgh. Even from her grave..... Harriet always gets her way!

So congratulations Jeff and Kristy. Not to rush things or anything, but look how gorgeous both of them are. Can you imagine how beautiful their kids will be. Wow.

Psst. Let's not mention to Kristy just how crazy our family really is, 'kay? "Don't let on." We don't want to scare to poor thing away.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

While We're On The Subject of Hugs and Kisses....

Six years after the death of my husband I still can't get over two things:

1. Every day I miss the look in his eyes. The look that says without a doubt, whatever happens in life, he loves me. There wasn't a day in our 20 plus years of marriage that we didn't know that we would spend the rest of our lives together. Those of you who've been on the receiving end of that look, know what I mean.

2. Kisses. We never, ever walked past each other, even in our house, without giving each other at least a peck on the cheek. I especially miss the kiss on my forehead he gave me each morning before he snuck out of the house to go to work at 4am.

*The sign in picture above was written by my son when he was in 7th or 8th grade. I found it with some other stuff while cleaning out some drawers a few years ago. Funny.

Saturday, February 07, 2009

Just askin'

What would you do if someone you were dating bought you this for Christmas? He's an airline pilot, mind you.

Oh boy, did we have fun with this on Thursday. Most comments are not fit for printing on this here blog! Not to mention what we did with the damn thing.
Did I mention he left price tag of $7.99 on the bottom?

Tuesday, February 03, 2009




One final note. Thank God there were no arrests because this was my favorite quote from the Post Gazette "The throng around the intersection was so thick, including school age children with advanced black and gold fever, it forced the nearby St. Mary of Mercy Church to cancel confessions." Well at least there were no mortal sins committed!
And this from a vendor: "These people love their Steelers. You could sell a used napkin if it's black and gold."

*I'll post more pictures when my son gets home!
*The Steelers jumping into the crowd were Troy Polamalu and Ryan Clark.