It's whatev

Way ahead of its time.

So I went to Home Depot on Sunday to get some end-of-season plants for my front yard and this is what greeted me:

Wha?  This is just riDONKulous.  It's the hackin Christmas display!  I haven't even put out all my "fall decor" yet much less even thought about Halloween.  Now you want to shove Christmas down my throat?  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely lurve decorating for Christmas - AFTER THANKSGIVING!!!  Every year it's earlier and earlier.  Where do they think we live?  In Canada?  With all of the holiday shifting going on up there I could see this happening.  But Christmas in September?  In Ohio?  It only stands to remind me that we are about to start 9 months of the season from hell.  Ugh!

The cutest Single Ladie yet.

What the hell is a Hubby?

Seriously, in almost 20 years of marriage I have never once referred to this man as my "hubby". So I asked myself, "Self. Why are you calling him hubby"? I suppose initially when beginning a blog one hopes to retain some sort of anonymity for themselves and their family. At least I did. However, since I blog using my name, why not give this guy the credit he deserves? He is too awesome to remain anonymous, or to be called "hubby". When I say the word "hubby" I feel like we should be driving an RV wearing matching Disney World t-shirts.

Blogland, may I introduce you to Steve. This is my Steve. And he is a keeper!!!

Steve, meet blogland.

Cat Fix

photo courtesy of Simply Seleta

I own 2 cats, Josie & Ozzy. You may have seen photos of them here on my blog. My desire for another cat is driving me nuts. Since hubby is totally against the idea, and smack me silly but he gets to make "those kind of decisions", I have been getting my cat fix online.

How cute is this guy? Does he want to be the baby? Or maybe he is just missing the baby?

In my experience if there is fabric involved, the cat is there.

Wordless Wednesday

My Magnificent Monday

OK, so it has been quite awhile since my last "Magnificent Monday" post. One would think that all of my Mondays suck. Nope, just a handful of them. I'm basically just too darn busy on Mondays to blog about my day, which may be the reason that my Mondays suck in the first place.

Anyway, here is another installment, since today is a slow work day and is basically not too sucky.

My Monday is magnificent because:

1) It's a slow work day.

2) My boss is out of town.

3) I had a decent night's sleep last night.

4) The sun is shining despite the downpour of last night.

5) My kids are pretty cute, I think I'll keep 'em.

5) My cat is curled up next to me in my office, which she is every day. Is it just me, or does she look absolutely thrilled? I think she's giving me the stank eye.

So there you have it, another installment of Magnificent Monday. I cannot guarantee when you will see another one. Let's all weep over that letdown.

Country Jam (aka Drunk Fest)

Last weekend I volunteered to oversee the high school cheerleaders while they were working the Country Jam. This is a huge all-day country music concert sponsored by the local country music radio station and held at the county fairgrounds.

Let's analyze what I just said: 1) country music, 2)all-day, 3)concert. Listen y'all, I know how to add and last Saturday 1+2+3= drunken rednecks.

Country Jam, 2009

Wow. I thought there were a lot of drunks when we worked the Oktoberfest a few weeks ago. The lederhosen wearing germans have nothing on the barechested, boot-wearing, CowboyHat-donning country music fans. Those folks can drink!

Oktoberfest 2009

Fortunately for the cheerleaders they worked the Lemonade Stand all day for a fundraiser. And they were slammed. They were so busy squeezing lemons, scooping sugar, and shaking drinks that they did not have enough time to go and mingle in the crowd.

While working this stand there were mainly 3 types of people that bought lemonade: 1) Those that don't drink, 2) Designated Drivers, and 3) Drunks who have somehow realized that just one more beer might not be such a good idea.

That was our main customer base until about 4 or 5 hours into our shift when we (the cheerleaders and I) were accosted by "crazy, drunken mom". Hereafter we will refer to her as "CDM". This woman appeared out of nowhere and in a drunken tirade proceeded to call each girl at the booth a different unflattering name (bitch, whore, slut, tramp, just to name a few). All while pointing her finger in each of their faces one by one. Wha? Huh? I responded in what I felt was like slow motion, leaping in front of the girls (my daughter included, did I mention that?) with arms outstretched, prepared to do battle.

I am not a confrontational person. I can be moody and a bit cuckoo at times, but I am not known to engage in screaming matches (ahem, unless it's my hubby or kids - sorry guys). But here is a little taste of what happened in front of the cheerleaders and a crowd of, oh I don't know, about 100 people give or take a few.

Me: Stop! Stop! These are just girls here. You can't talk to them that way!

CDM: Well, these girls are a bunch of bitches. And I hope you girls know that I can't stand any of you. You are all little tramps.

Me: I said Stop! I'm sorry you will have to leave. You are a grown adult and you should not be talking to children this way. Please go away so these girls can do their job. Go have another beer and enjoy the concert.

CDM: I am 47 years old and I'll do what I want. You give me a call sometime honey and I will tell you about these girls. (Apparently her daughter goes to school with all of the girls. Her daughter by the way is fine with these girls). They are sluts and bitches!

Me: If you are 47 years old you need to start acting like an adult and stop this. We are not in high school anymore and you need to start acting more mature.

Oh Snap!

CDM: (backing up about 10 feet and screaming for all to hear) You wanna come out here and say that to me bitch?

WHA??????

CDM: You come out here and we'll settle this. Let's go. Come on.

Me: I am not interested in fighting you.

CDM: You don't have the BALLS to fight me.

Me: (Pretty much in agreement with that last intelligent statement). I am not going to fight you. I am an adult and I didn't do this when I was 22 and I'm not going to do this now.

CDM: You're not WOMAN enough to fight me!

Woooow! Did she just say that?

Me: (Really ticked and a bit confused) No! I am just not TRASHY enough to fight you!!

Oh Snap! Yeah, through her drunken haze she realized she didn't like that particular little insult. I was gearing up. I was on a roll. I was gonna let her really have it!

Me: I am going to call security if you don't leave right now!

She spewed forth a few more pleasantries in our general direction and then stumbled off into the night. Wow! Did that just happen? I was shaking, and glad it was over. Did I mention that the guy grilling the food in the other half of our tent watched the entire thing. Then after she left he had the nerve to chastise me for speaking to her. I should have just ignored her. Yeah, OK, and let her stand their vomiting up insults and accusations at a group of 15 year old girls? I dont' think so!

Did I also mention that a couple of my girls threw those insults right back at her? Yeah, in the midst of trying to get her to go away, I had to hold back and try to silence a couple of the girls. Yikes! Apparently everyone (and their mothers) have already have had dealings with this mother. They knew all about her, have had experiences with her, and generally agree that she is CRAZY!!

So there you have it. My drunken redneck fest. Turns out that the rednecks were harmless, amusing drunks and that a crazy high-school mother was the one causing all of the fuss.

Unless you count the drunken 60 year old man in the Hooters t-shirt who asked me which one of the girls he could @#*!

Yeah, I think we will stick to carwashes and coupon books in the future.

(Disclaimer: The term redneck is only used with the utmost love and respect, seeing as how half my family and my best girlfriend fall into that category. Later y'all. I'm fixin to go to bed now.)

"Bright, strong, and golden...Shine it all around"

So the big day has come and gone. And I survived. My 40th birthday flew by in a flash of family and gifts and tattoos and crying. Crying? Yes, crying. I had anticiapted the day all summer. Two days before my birthday I lost it. Maybe it was the fear of all the attention I was anticipating. Believe it or not, I don't crave birthday attention. Maybe it was the build up. Whatever it was, I began crying Sunday morning and I couldn't stop. I put my hubby through heck that day. He didn't know what to make of it and honestly neither did I.

By 3:00 in the afternoon I had to pull myself together for a family birthday dinner planned by my wonderful mother. The rest of the day I was pefectly fine. The next day I was too busy at work to freak out. Then Tuesday, Sept.15 arrived. The day I had been dreading. My 40th birthday. What a great day I had!

So what was all the fuss about? As I look back 5 days later I still have no idea. I am not freaked out about turning 40 because I am getting old. I really don't care about saggy boobs, and wrinkes, and gray hair. All of that hit me at 25 when my daughter was born.

I realized that this past year I have really been dwelling more on the passage of time. I might even admit that I obsess over it. Not about death and dying, just the passage of time. It really does fly by. My son was just yesterday playing with action figures in the bath tub and now he is 20. My daughter only just learned to ride without her training wheels and now she is a sophmore in high school. Only last week I fell in love with a cute boy with glasses in 10th grade biology class, and now we are in our 20th year of marriage together.

Time flies by, and dammit, it just won't slow down. I have become one of those annoying "deep thinkers". I find myself dwelling on things like the meaning of life, the passage of time, the "we only live once and it's just a short time", and the "I don't want to look back with regrets".

This week I realized that I have been "dwelling" just too damn much. I have been spending too much of this precious time worrying about precious time. What an ass I have been. Time will pass. There is no stopping it, no slowing it down, no denying it. So we need to embrace every moment of it. We need to live each moment not with the thought that we will never get it back, but with the thought of how precious that moment is and how blessed we are to be living that moment. In the moment.

That is my goal for this year. To really live in the moment. No more worrying about my kids growing old. No more worrying about what a short life we have. Because the truth is we do have just one life, and how beautiful is. How beautiful it has been. And how beautiful it will be.

What a beautiful life I live!! Ready, Set, 40!

You can visit Melissa at The Inspired Room to hear others tell about what is Beautiful in their lives.

Turner 4 Life

My sister Rachael and I have been talking for some time now about getting tattoos. We were going to do it a couple of years ago and plans just never materialized.

A few months ago we began to kick around the idea again. But what to get? I mean, if you are going to ink something on your body for all of time then it better be something with some meaning, right? If were going to be tattooed on a whim, then I would have done it in the 80's when I was in high school. Then I would now be walking around with the name "Bon Jovi" on my chest, and a tramp stamp in the shape of "The Artist Formerly Known as Prince".

No, tattoos are serious business to me. I got my first one in 2007 when my son graduated high school. I designed it to represent him and I got inked in honor of him. I told myself I wouldn't do it again until my daughter graduated high school, but my sister convinced me otherwise. We decided a sister tattoo would be the way to go. I searched high and low for some sort of chinese or buddhist or egyptian symbol for sister. Yeah, they were all like 6 characters long. Not something we wanted. So we put it off some more and waited for the right inspiration.

Then these 2 knuckleheads got tattooed (love ya guys):

These are 2 of our 5 brothers. They both got "Turner" down the back of their arms. Obviously it is because that is our last name. Rachael and I decided this would be the perfect tattoos to get: "turner". Obviously we didn't want Old English lettering down the back of our arms. No offense boys, but not the most attractive thing on a lady (OK, you're saying "neither are tattoos in general". Whatever!)

Our brother Brett hooked us up with his buddies at Tattoo Faction in North Olmsted, OH. They were really cool and we are very pleased.

Do we look nervous? I was as cool as a cucumber. Remember, I have done this before. I was not nervous in the least. Rachael on the other hand was a nervous wreck. She was so afraid she would pass out. It's a habit of her's.

Cool shop. Even cooler red leather sofa.

Finally the time arrived and Dan the Tat Man commenced the needlework on Rachael's foot. She reached out for something to hold. She wanted a pillow, but grabbed my purse and held on for dear life.

Priceless:

The finished product. Nothing fancy. It took longer to design it with him than it did for him to ink it. We didn't want calligraphy or scrolls or swirls. His cursive just didn't look right. We must have had him revise it 5 times. Bet your ass we did. It's permanent after all, isn't it? Finally I wrote out the name, and we used his "T" and my "urner". Loving it!!

OK, my turn. Um, yeah, my brother Greg was wrong. The foot definitely hurts worse. It hurt like a sumanabitch! I don't remember the back being so painful and the back took an hour. This was 4 minutes - at most.

My foot:

Dan the Tat Man:

Sisters for life.

4 siblings down, a couple to go.

Check another one off my "39 Things" list. Total coincidence that we went on my actual birthday. I wasn't putting off till the last minute. Really I wasn't.

My 40 days and nights.

The big 4-0 birthday weekend has come and gone. I survived. I made it through the drunken arguments, the redneck fest, my own "it's-my-party-and-I'll-cry-if-I-want-to" pity parties, the audience with the pope, the gorging ourselves with food, and the tattoos.

Wow. Read that sentence again. Sounds like we are just ripe for our own reality TV show over here. Really it's just a fun filled, never without drama, 40th birthday weekend for me. The drunken arguments, redneck fest, and pity parties are stories that will have to wait for another day.

Right now I would like to just say what a wonderful family I have. My husband is a saint and is so loving, my parents and family are so loving and generous, and my kids are the best. I truly feeled blessed to have the family that I do.

Here is a little birthday recap beginning with an audience with the pope.

More like "the pope room" at Bucca di Beppo! You didn't think I had an acutal audience with the pope did you? Yea, I can see how that one would go. "Oh hello your Eminence, bless me father for I have sinned by declaring myself an ex-catholic because I think you are all a bunch of narrow-minded, ritual driven, misogynists that have nothing better to do than throw guilt at little children and condemn to hell those that dont' think like you do. Um, yeah, so I sure do dig your crib."

Wow, did I just say that?

Anyway, Bucca's was as fabulous as ever and the food was scrumptious. Of course I have zero photos of the food cuz once those family style platters hit that over-sized lazy susan it was a Turner family free-for-all. That lazy susan was whipping back and forth, serving spoons were flying, everyone filled their plates, and then there was dead silence for the next 15 minutes. Yea, we like our food and the restaurant did not disappoint.

If you've never been to Bucca di Beppo's, it is an italian restaurant that serves their food family style and is known for their kitchy italian decor. As you can see in the top pic, we were in the "pope room" which is just large enough for a round table that seats approx. 12 people. In the center of the table is a giant "lazy susan" with the pope bust in the center.

The pope approved of my sangria. Yummy!

My beloved Aunts Terri & Mary and my Uncle Ralph:

My Uncle Ed & my little sister Rachael:

My son and his girlfriend lookin all cute:

Me & hubby after I had one too many sangrias:

I love this picture of my parents. The candlelight, the statue on the wall, the peace on their faces. So ethereal. Such treasures.

Here's the hat they all signed with well-wishes and made me wear. No. You wont' be seeing a photo of that.

After dinner Sunday afternoon we went back to my parents' home where I was showered with yummy gifts:

Gorgeous set of dishes from my parents. My current set is from my wedding shower and is so, like, 1990.

My parents also gave me this adorable set of canape plates and serving dish. Now I just need to figure out what the hell a canape is, and how to make it.

A purse from my aunts. How did they know red was my favorite color? And did they dead-on pick my style of purse, or what? Yes! They defintitely did!

Some fun reading material from my Dad. I am such an American Idol junkie. I can't wait to dig into this book.

So we move on to Monday and that passed by like Mondays always do. Work all day, have an hour off and then head to the 2nd job in the evening. Yeah, I prefer not to discuss Mondays. Especially since it involved yet another heated conversation with yet another crazy cheer mom. What is with these trashy women? Again, another story for another day.


Moving on to yesterday, Tuesday, and it's my actual 40th Birthday. Yay! It's here. And I had a GREAT DAY. Of course I worked all day, but once I was off of work my daughter and I headed to Le Nails and I got my nails did. I let Lizzie pick out the color and she chose straight up "O.P.I. Red". It's got "hey big guy, here i am" written all over it. But it is pretty and well, my favorite color is red after all.

When we got home my hubby had the MOST DELICIOUS dinner for me. Ribeye steaks that he grilled outside along with baked potatos and green beans. OK, I can't even begin to describe how delicious his steaks are. Folks, he has a gift. Again, no photos of the dinner, cuz hey, I smell steaks and it's just all over for me.

I did get a shot of the yummy peach pie that he had for dessert. (Note to readers: Peach is my favorite pie. In case, you decide to hit up Ohio and take me out for dessert or something).

After dinner my sister Rachael showed up and brought me this next little bit of heaven.

Hello my precious ones. Come to mama. By the time I got the camera out we had one cupcake gone and 2 half-eaten. The one with pink frosting in the back row was a casata cake. Heloooo!

Then sister Rachael and I headed off to get tattoos. "Girrrl, no you di-ent". "Girrrl, oh yes I di-id". I already have one, but this was sister's first.

We got our last name, Turner, on our foot. Of course there's always a story behind a tattoo, and again that will wait for another post later this week.

So I settled in at midnight last night for my daily Oprah viewing and sighed with contentment and happiness thinking over my wonderful family and my fabulous birthday weekend.

Then my son walks in the door and showers me with this bit of awesomeness:

So today is Wednesday and the birthday has come and gone and it's back to the usual grind. Oh but wait, what was sitting on my front porch covered in dew this morning? It's a sweet bouquet of flowers from my brother Chuck, who got in from the road at midnight last night and made a pit-stop to leave me these:

So that is my birthday extravaganza and it's over and I survived and hey, I got to cross 2 more things off my list (which I'll update later today).

THANK YOU FAMILY! THANK YOU FRIENDS! 40 ISN'T SO BAD AFTER ALL. I AM BLESSED TO HAVE YOU ALL IN MY LIFE. YOU HAVE MADE ME FEEL SO LOVED - AS YOU DO MOST EVERY DAY. LOVE YOU!!

Diggin' on this song.

Shine It All Around
by Robert Plant

This is the land where I live
Paint it all over golden
Take a little sunshine - spread it all around

This is the love that I give
These are the arms for the holding
Turn on your love light - shine it all around
Turn on your love light - shine it all around

Shine it all around - shine it all around

These are the times of my life
Bright, strong and golden
This is the way that I choose when the deal goes down

This is the world that I love
Painted all over troubled
Take a little sunshine - shine it all around
Send a little sign now - spread it all around now
Shine it all around now, when the deal goes down now

Shine it all around - shine it all around

This is the heart of the man
This is the heart of the matter
Break a little bread now - spread it all around
Come on, make a little bread now - all around

Shine it all around - shine it all around
Shine it all around - shine it all around

Don't Tempt Me

For the Children.

So today is September 11th and I have read many posts online this morning regarding the day. Some just post a photo, some tell the story of where they were that day, some offer prayers and words of thanks.

I don't know what to say honestly. I feel like I should make some grand speech about patriotism and sacrifice and honoring those who perished.

The only thing I can think and feel about today is a deep sadness for all of the children.

I am feel sorrow for the children who lost a parent on 9/11:

I feel sorrow for the children who have to say goodbye to a parent going off to war:

I feel sorrow for the children that have to live with a war raging in their country:

I feel sorrow for the children that have lost a parent to the war:

I feel sorrow for the children like our Anthony (pictured below) who have lost their youth and innocence by fighting in this war. Children like Anthony who was trained to be a sniper and had to kill for his country, while his buddies were back home chasing girls and playing video games.

Today and all days I feel sorrow for the Children.

It's The End of the Internet.

So I was catching up on the zillion blogs that I follow in my Google Reader, when I reached the last post, clicked next and got this message from Google:

I know it's fuzzy, but it's the best my little camera could do. It reads, "Congratulations, you've reached the End of the Internet".

When I clicked on "End of Internet", I got this message:

"The End of the Internet.

Congratulations! This is the last page.

Thank you for visiting the End of the Internet. There are no more links.

You must now turn off your computer and go do something productive.

Go read a book, for Pete's sake."

HOW FUNNY IS THAT???