Wheeeeeeeeee! For Super Mario 3

Click on the image below to check out my new FireFox theme. Yet another opportunity to celebrate my secret inner Nintendo nerd. I am now only 2 steps away from taking over the world! mwa ha ha ha aha h a..........................

I love retro gaming more than grilled cheese sandwiches. I dislike modern gaming except for JAWS where you get to eat stupid people swimming at the beach. Now THAT's a game.

I'm Ret T'Go

For anyone who laid awake last night gnawing their nails to the quick about whether I was accepted for the job thingie (very technical term oft used by professionals for items related to the space station and general physiology). My last exam was 100% and I completed my interview/conference last night. As Wanda from In Living Color Would Say: "I'm ret t'go"

McCarthyism & Mastercards

Are you all dying to know what happened with the car shopping? I so know you are. So here's the deal. We always buy older cars with in house financing because our credit could be better we are big believers in staying under the federal government's radar. I have no idea why I associate credit with the Communist lists of McCarthy but I do. There is a correlation there, I'm telling you; I just haven't been able to fish it out of my brain yet because my medication is supposed to suppress my paranoid delusions I've been busy.

Anyway, on a whim we went to a normal car lot and applied for financing. Somehow we were approved within 10 minutes. Go figure, huh? We actually qualify for a car loan. While this is nothing for most people, we've spent the last 10 years surviving on pizza delivery wages, waitressing tips, and student loans trying to scrape by. We've never qualified for anything. Except once I qualified to be part of a drug trial for crazy people. I declined.

So, we got a vehicle. It's a Kia Sedona. It so new it's still under factory warranty and damn shiny to boot. I was going to take a pic of the van but it is thunder storming. So here's one I raped and pillaged from the internet.

Rumors Of My Death.......

.......have once again been greatly exaggerated.

We spent all day yesterday at the car dealer and I spent all day today finalizing my paperwork before the final exam for my company placement. I will spend all day tomorrow cleaning and all day Sunday planning lessons for the upcoming week.

I really love you all, friends & family. I will get there eventually. Remember, I never promised I was a dependable friend but I'm great at a party.

K-Fed for Daddy Of The Year

Is it really, truly possible that most of America is hoping K-Fed gets custody so at least those 2 boys have a chance? Stupid Britney, tricks are for kids! PS- Shaving off your hair isn't really going to get you around a conclusive drug test. Idiot. Poor stupid bald little idiot.

And you people think the world isn't ending? We're talking about K-Fed actually looking appealing as a father. It's all over but the crying people. The world is hurtling full tilt towards the apocolypse. I'm taking my Twizzlers and going to the roof.

Stealing My Stationwagon

We are scheduled to go to the auto dealer Thursday. While that isn't particularly exciting to most people, we only buy a car every 5 or 6 years because we have horrible credit from student loan to income ration believe in living debt free.

Each time we go through this we not only buy something "newer", we also aim to purchase something "originally nicer" so that the next time we are in a better position to upgrade. It's worked out pretty well. It was my idea, by the way. Michael refuses to take part in the car purchasing process so that if it sucks it's all on me; that's okay though because I have a pretty good car nose and so he has to give me props for it every single time he gets in the vehicle and it starts. Anyway, so far we :

• started out in a crappy Caravan
• minor upgrade to something we called a Frog (it was only an upgrade because it ran and the old van didn't)
• then to a Taurus Stationwagon
• next was to a Mitsubishi (which coined the forever popular Grantham term "tooling around town in your Mitsubishi")
• and finally landed in a Voyager (little Star Trek humor there in case you missed it)
  
• to which we added an exact replica of our original Taurus Stationwagon (two cars is always better than one).
  
• This time we were lucky enough to locate a Town & Country in our range and if all goes well we should pick it up Thursday. By the time we upgrade again people will probably be starting to get sick of their Hummers. Little auto humor there. Wasn't very funny though was it?

Affording this one has required me to not only turn over my van as trade in but also my stationwagon. I'm a little bitter over that. I had planned to put fatty tires on it, paint it red, add flames, a sweet stereo system and have it shag carpeted. The really sad thing is you all think I'm kidding; you just don't know me at all. So sad. Michael promised to replace it with an equally dorky one to fix up in a few years but he's lying.

Felony Theft's Relation To Cheese Whiz

I was robbed! Geez. I finished my last section of content training modules and went to take the section exam. After that I would've advanced on to the final exam and if that was passed they got one more shot at me with the training overview assessment.

I clicked on the section exam and it booted my butt directly into the final. Which is fine except LANGDON PUKED ALL OVER MOST OF MY NOTES LAST NIGHT and so I had next to nothing to refer to (I had planned on revisiting past modules and replacing my notes before the exam). And, yes, we are expected to refer to our notes because the amount of information is so massive and indepth that training is actually a bootcamp in note taking versus information absorption.

82.7% I was robbed I tell you. Ah, well there are worse things than mediocrity. Cheese Whiz comes to mind. I'm off to put on my khaki pants and admire how poorly I look.

Not For Wussies With Weak Stomachs

So Dexter threw up on me. He threw up all over my shirt and thoroughly saturated one side of my head. And I started yelling and running in circles trying to get the vomit out of my ear. The girls were no help as they stood there pointing and yelling things like "it's all over", "oh geez I'm gonna never have kids" etc. etc..........................

I am handed a towel. I began to try to wipe the vomit off my shirt and sqeeze it out of my hair. And I am struck in the back full force with more vomit. Lots of vomit. Macaroni & Cheese with Hot Dogs vomit. It was Langdon.

And as I stood there with puke dripping out of my hair, soaking through my shirt, and running down both legs it occured to me that all of this happened within 3 feet of the computer and they both had missed it entirely as well as missing the taxes paperwork. Life is pretty good. Although Lang managed to thoroughly saturate over 24 pages of handwritten notes for my work exams which is too damn serious. Ah, well.................. kids, right?

So it looks like Langdon is now coming down with it. Please, please, please dont' give up on me (Shanna, Kim, RYL, emma, Shanny, etc......). I swear I am going to get email, messages, etc. taken care of once things settle down here. I am literally knee deep in it right now......

I'm A Proficient Twinkie

It's strange being "academically tested" as an adult. In fact, I'm waiting for a response back from the ACLU on this very matter.

The company I work for is wearing me down with exam after exam, but I was pondering this afternoon and I've decided to sue. To test my proficiency in required skills is to indicate that you/the company believes that I didn't have the skills to start with originally. That is calling me stupid. You cannot call me stupid; it's illegal since the infamous 1974 court case (I'm bluffing - there is no court case so put Google down and walk away). I suspect that you are calling me stupid because I'm a girl and I look poorly in khaki pants. I have nothing to back that up but that's what I'm going with.

Which frankly is even worse because I work through the phone and you can't see me thus you are assuming I'm a girl because I have a whiney voice and complain a lot and you're assuming I look poorly in khaki pants because most women do (especially ones who call in for interviews eating twinkies which really wasn't my fault because I thought it was a machine I was talking to and everyone knows it's good joujou to interview with machines while eating twinkies so screw you).

Back to my point. Tests are discriminatory. So what if I'm not proficient? Can you really refuse me a job on those grounds under our current politically correct system of minority balance? Hmmm? Don't worry. I'm actually quite proficient. I never score less than a 97% and the one time I did I proved it was the test and not me. And it's usually a 100% but I thought that putting that up was just arrogant. Anyway, I'm just posting this in defense of all the stupid girls who look poorly in khaki pants since there seems to be so many of them.

My company loves me. They think I'm pretty. They want to marry me..........

Ooh La Lips

Stumbled across this site the other day and had to share it for obvious reasons.

Ooh La Lips

I think this site officially has more lip care products than I do. Now you see, that's impressive stuff right there.

Potty Humor Bridges Generations

Dexter is very sick. The actual vomiting has somewhat subsided since we put him strictly on Pedialyte and because he is consuming gallons and gallons every 4 minutes adequate amounts he is actually managing to stay hydrated. Surprisingly condsidering the diaper issues, as we shall refer to "it", has gotten extraordinarily bad. Horrible. Really, truly, mind boggling. Kick your mama in the face astoundingly bad.

I will never talk about what happened this morning. Never. Not even for candy. Suffice it to say that I had the experience you always hear about as a parent but suspect is a myth generated by other parents as an excuse to work potty humor (that was banned by their Mum at age 8) back into adult conversation with a straight face. Nay. I will not discuss it.

I'm really into prepositional phrases lately. I really need to get over that; it's simply annoying and not at all adequate in carrying my point to fruition. Ha. I love Dictionary's Word Of The Day.

Hydrangea Hoedown

So, I am training for a rather complex new part of my job. It is a challenge even for spastic (yet unapprecietedly brilliant) me. I had a shrink once that said I had ADD but I couldn't listen to him long enough to understand what that meant. I think I understand now.

I am also working having to work through the new curriculum, exactly as the kids will, in advance of them. In other words, I go to 2nd grade math, social studies, language arts, science and bible every night. I also go to 4th grade math, social studies, language arts, science and bible every night. Oh, and by the way I also go to 6th grade math, social studies, language arts, science and bible every night. I also go to pre-k but I can't complain there; I have this whole color and shapes thing down flat. Now let's not add in the enrichment activities I plan or the elective schedules (foreign languages, etc.) that the girls are dying to start this semester. Mind you, I'm not complaining. I have a well documented fear of women's thighs and let me tell you this: there is an immeasurable amount of women's thighs in a PTA meeting; absolutely immeasurable. Therefore I consider myself lucky; I teach and by doing so manage to avoid most situations involving cellulite spread over metal folding chairs. I just wanted you to understand be really impressed with and send me candy what I do every night.

Anyway, all of the above was leading to the fact that Dexter got horribly sick today. Fever sitting at 102 and projectile vomiting; so dehydrated the diarrhea wasn't working out for him and up so many times last night the neighbors said horrible things and I heard them through the floor. Buttheads, anyway..... Called the pedi and she has so many other babies in the office with the same thing she wouldn't even see him. Sooooooooo he's on pedialyte for 24 hours, a tylenol/ibuprofen cocktail, and lots of wiggling & jiggling while pacing. So I'm doing that while going back and forth from my computer classes and to the homeschool area to the curriculum.

I was going to complain about my marriage this post but will instead tell you that I bought a lovely bouquet of flowers today and smashed it on accident. And for anyone that is feeling like this post is a downer - YOU'RE WRONG.

I'm actually having a good day and just wanted to point out that I am a total bad ass. Therefore you should appreciate me more and add my name back to the family tree. And you should send me candy.

Designing Not Resigning

Yes, the design did change. No, it isn't complete. I haven't the time. Neither is it fantastic. I haven't the skills. I mean, I've got skills - my DH wanted 1 child and had 5. I obviously have skills. The question is whether that is in the dark or in the art of manipulation. I leave that to your imagination. And the only reason I included the rather disturbing verbal imagery (much to everyone's chagrin) in the last sentence is because I wanted the opportunity to point out that manipulation and imagination rhyme.

Anyway, I am allowing some advertising/sponsors to enter the L3 enviroment. While I understand they can be quite distracting, they are also kind of bright and shiny with snazzy little pictures. Like a raccoon, I simply cannot resist such things. Also, they can pay rather well, resulting in my being able to afford a design by a professional. One simply cannot take over the world properly when their blogs are dressed in secondhand togs. And again with the no one would've realized that blogs and togs rhyme without my bringing it to your attention. And you're very welcome. I blog to please.

Yes. We are entering a unit on poetry. On the bright side, I am merely bringing into this blog the rhyming baggage and not the haiku crap.

A Very Merry Valentine's Day To ME!

WoOt! Just got the email from the company I work for that I have recieved the much coveted invitation to train with a company I have been waiting to get on with for freaking ever. Yay me! This means however that I will be training while starting a new curriculum. Yikes. Oh, well, nevertheless, Yay ME!

And Family: The website is now fully functional. I'll email the link again this afternoon. Go participate. Please. I should be able to approve people fairly quickly. Am waiting for an email from the company as I locked myself out of the main account again. I do things like that. Often.

Christianity Goes Camping

Christianity has divided itself hundreds of times over the years. But it seems to me, and I could be oversimplifying here, that there are 2 camps of Christians in modern America. One that seeks to bring the Bible to the believer where he is at, and the second that attempts to bring the believer to the Bible where it is at (has always been).

And you can't join the two systems because they are foundationally at odds with each other in every single aspect. In fact, to subscribe to the biblical approach of the first, one must assume that scripture is A) not inerrant and B) open for interpretation - this camp leans heavily on teachers to tell them what it is they believe exactly and are easily swayed from the hottest new published book to the most attractive new singer to the best put together website or radio show. To subscribe to the second, one must assume the exact opposite, meaning that the Bible is in fact inerrant, and is not open to interpretation but is instead a literal communication. This group does value teachers but believe self study of scripture is absolutely necessary, which, to be fair, has on occasion led to things like Jonestown.

Pondering, pondering, pondering.................... I wonder which camp of thought wrote the curriculum I purchased? =sigh= Off to investigate. I should've done so before purchase but I had a molecular genetics induced panic attack. It happens. And if you reread that you'll understand why it's so deserately humourous. Or not.

Indeed

"It is…sometimes easier to head an institute for the study of child guidance then it is to turn one brat into a decent human being."

-Joseph Wood Krutch

Blowing Snow. Get Your Mind Out Of The Gutter.

It's been snowing since the wee hours of this morning. Why this may seem an expected aspect of winter for many of you, I just spent 6 years in the South where snow was regarded as mythical substance of which one heard about a great deal but never actually saw. Like unicorns. Like Leprechauns. Like families in modern America not rife with dysfunction; mythical, I tell you.

So we took one of our snow days. Such an announcement was so well recieved by the masses (my large # of children) that they did my chores for the day and decided to get along; which lasted extraordinarily well until one of them spoke. I suppose I won't let them know that we are awaiting the arrival of our new curriculum direction anyway, and the worst I would've academically demanded of them was math, creative writing and penmanship. But they don't need to know that because then I might lose my rockstar status.

Anyway, dear ones, it is snowing scads. It hasn't stopped or even let up really at all and is promised to continue into the night. I've spent a great deal of time today in my work area, looking out the window and thinking of unique ways to punish my husband for making me move to the South where I missed this for years on end; however, as he walks home from the train every night and will have to wade through ice, slush and snow in the bitter cold and dark tonight I'll let life itself serve up its version of justice.

PS - Everynight I offer to go pick him up but he won't hear of it. I'm not completely heartless you know; just mostly. Anyway, maybe I'll share my recipe tonight for what I'm cooking. It could kick off the long awaited series of posts called 101 Reasons To Dismember A Chicken. Very exciting stuff; most things involving small animal cadaveors usually are.

Stigmata For StarBursts

The popularly held belief is that the cumulative value of one's life lay in the quality of their intentions. I have come to the conclusion that this is incorrect. IDEAS. The cumulative quality of one's life lies in the quality and, in some notable cases, quantity of their ideas.

Instead of the gray areas of human nature when analyzing the intentions behind one's actions, ideas are extraordinarily black and white. As in: There are good ideas and bad ideas. Granted, there are some variations such good ideas that go bad, bad ideas that turn out good, etc. but in the overall ideas are transclucent indicators of the individual who originally spawned the enacted idea. Here are some examples:

• Good Idea - looking both ways before crossing the street
  
• Bad Idea - siphoning gas using your mouth (my retarded ex-husband can vouch for this one personally)

Now some variations, as I see some of you puckering your mouths in disagreement already:

• Good Idea Gone Bad - Cleaning your wood furniture is a good idea. Cleaning your wood furniture with Clorox SoftScrub and a metal brush is a bad idea. Together they make the ever popular Good Idea Gone Bad variation.
• Bad Idea Gone Okay - Stealing some lady's purse is a bad idea. Finding out that you stole the purse of a man dressed up like a woman and said purse was overflowing with written confessions of serial killer activities that you turn over to the cops for a large reward thus no longer having to snatch purses is a good idea and makes your Bad Idea Turned Out Okay variation which really is extraordinarily rare, but is far more common than the Bad Idea Turned Out Good.

So that is my explanation for all future posts in the ongoing series entitled Good Ideas/Bad Ideas by Becca. Here is the first.

Having a c-section with Dexter was a good idea as I probably would've had the hemmorage during labor instead of after thus killing us both. Having a tummy tuck at the same time I had the c-section was a bad idea as I am now horribly maimed and have no feeling in my belly and upper pubic area as well as having been left with the sign of the cross emblazened across my midsection (1st c-section went belly button to pubic bone - 2nd c-section went hip to hip). This Good Idea Gone Bad Idea situation has left me with 2 options:

• I sign a notarized statement promising the general public that I will never wear a 2 pc bathing suit again.
  

or

• I throw myself at the mercies of the Catholic church claiming stigmata (the sign of the cross on my belly) and hope they give me candy.
  

Eat Bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Eat Bananas.....

So Dexter likes bananas. This is a huge event in our lives as we have been attempting solids for an ashamedly long time in hopes of sleeping through the night to make his tummy feel better and we have gotten absolutely nowhere. Nada. Zip. Rare is the molecule of solid food that has stayed inside the mouth of Chubbles The Angry Piggy, and in fact, most solid foods have exited via the gnashing of teeth while using my face for target practice.

Tonight, because I had nothing better to do and am by my very nature a sadomasochist I care greatly for his health and well being, we broke out the bananas. And he ate the entire jar; rather hurriedly in fact.

I'm hoping this goes better than the time I attempted to force feed him prunes. He had an allergic reaction to those that involved a bad case of the hives, much screaming, and back arching all while attempting to claw out my eyes.

Unusual Degrees Of Flammability

Does one suppose that God hasn't stopped smiting people at all but is instead on a temporary hiatus from smiting as his favorite method -spontaneous human combustion- was written off by the scientific community as an anomoly instead of divine retribution? Hmmm? Anyone?

Yeah. I don't know either. I will say that spontaneous human combustion is totally sweet. Assuming that I'm not the one on fire.

Food For Thought. Or Not.

I rarely regret being poor at this point in our life. I am regretting it a bit as we try to find a way to acquire a new vehicle. I regret it a bit when I am denied chinese food by this whole "pay the electricity bill" sort of mentality that has engulfed my husband. And, as I stumbled upon this I regretted it terribly................ =sigh= Oh to be wealthy enough to sit on a such a toilet =sigh=

PS - No. I'm not kidding.

I'm Such A Loser

I just ordered a boxed curriculum for my offspring. I deserve to die a slow painful death that involves equally sloths and chocolate syrup.

I, however, cannot go on in the fashion that we are doing at this point. I am driving myself into the ground attempting to design a curriculum for 4 different grade levels in 5 core subjects (plus enrichment activities).

At 4AM this morning as I sat feeding my very fat and greedy little darling (because sleeping through the night is for loooooosers according to Dexter), it occured to me that if I opened the living room windows and jumped out in an exuberant fashion that the odds of actually dying were in my favor. And I think it was at that point I realized that something had to change.

And while I was pondering whether it would be unwise to ask Michael for help opening said window it occured to me that Summer is headed straight into molecular genetics. C'mon people, make an effort to stay with me; you're making this all very difficult........... And I threw up a little. I then spent a large portion of time trying to figure out a way to tie such a study into the current route of our curriculum this year and I realized 3 things:

1. I don't care about molecular genetics. I don't care at all.
   
2. I don't know anything about molecular genetics. Certainly not enough to formulate a curriculum aspect about it.
   
3. Michael has moved into the lab and so, while he knows a great deal about molecular genetics, he isn't currently taking our calls (j/k).

And so I did a very shameful thing. I bought a boxed curriculum. And I must admit that I feel equally relieved and guilty. But let's face it kids, I'm worn out and I'm talking on a deeper level than sleep is going to fix.

I'm off to do pennance in the corner while eating a Snickers bar and quietly giggling about all the new free time I'm going to have................ yeah, and if a frog had wings it wouldn't bump its ass when it hopped.

Why Mackenzie Will Not Give My Eulogy

Setting the scene: Mom is making out the menu for next week so she can create a grocery list. Mackenzie enters the room with a sweater from Mom's closet..................

Mom: (writing)
Mon: chicken & dumplings
Tue: jambalaya
Wed: leftovers or hot sandwich
Thur:......

Kenzie: Why don't you wear this? Are you too fat for it?

Mom: (writing)
Mon: chicken & dumpings dirt
Tue: jambalaya mud
Wed: leftovers or hot sandwich poo..........
Thur:........

Note To Family: I am never "too fat" for anything. I just occasionally go on religious hiatuses from everything I own.

Go Lick A Pole

It is snowing here. My children completed their schoolwork and went out to play. My oldest daughter dared my middle daughter to stick her tongue to a pole; which she did. And it stuck. The daughter that dared came and got me. We rushed own three stories with warm water. She had already violently removed her tongue and was bleeding no small amount. The neighbors were staring. The third daughter, who's light seems a little dimmer than 40 watts in certain circumstances, never even looked up from where she was drawing on the sidewalk, even while her older sister flailed around with her face stuck to a pole not 3 ft from where she was sitting.

So for anyone awaiting my response via phone, email or smoke signal, please read the above situation. Twice.

The Color Red Is In The Building

Mom: Today we're working on red, Lang. Are apples red?
Lang: yep
Mom: Let's color them red then
Lang: (scribbles wildly across the paper)
Mom: How about a valentine heart? Is that red?
Lang: 'spose I guess yit yis
Mom: Fair enough. Well, color it red cause we 'spose it's red
Lang: (scribbles a little less enthusiastically)
Mom: How about strawberries? Yum, yum! Are they red?
Lang: They yar now............ (scribbles one weak line) I'm yeaving. Don't fayow me.

Fayow means follow for those who don't speak toddler. Yes he actually said this. Yes I blame his sisters. And yes we were done for the day. I must say it went much better than Blue day.

Disputing 30 Days

I have a lot of children. I am past the 30 day return policy on all of them. Somehow that doesn't seem fair; I think a 30 year return policy is better. As babies they make huge messes, as toddlers they throw huge fits, as teenagers they cost huge amounts of money and in their twenties they cause huge amounts of stress and almost debilitating disappointment.

All of that times 5 in my case. Somehow it just doesn't seem right. I am taking the rest of the day off and the first child who loses the current round of the Quiet Game that I am making them play will go to the pound.

Meandering

Meandering means to walk stupidly this a way and that a way through the Wal-Mart parking lot.

This has been Vocabulary According to Becca. You may all get out of the sharing circle now and sniff glue go have a cracker.

Navigating Cities & The Humor Of Ham

Getting around a city, especially a new one, takes some getting used to. I have theory on this so grab your pen and paper because you are in for a real treat:

Follow the people who seem to know where they are going; if they are so sure they want to go there then they must be going somewhere good.

This has only failed me two times; both of those time I ended up at meat packing plants. Had I been able to come up with a plausible reason to go to such a place then the theory wouldn't have failed at all but it was extraordinarily difficult to come up with an excuse to frequent a place that overflows with blood and intestinal excess. On the bright side, now that we homeschool I will just waltz right in there and ask for a 3 hour tour because such establishments are considered a staple educational experience; this will mean that my theory never fails. Ever.

Friends & Family Type People - I hope to catch up with everyone this weekend. This week has kicked my butt up one side of the street and down the other. On the bright side we have advanced all of the girls into new math concepts, instituted a generally agreed upon proofreading system and spent a large portion of Michael's money (when he comes home I'll be sure to tell him all of these things except the money part). We also are approaching the end of our indepth study of biblical lineages and their ramifications on world population. The girls managed to not laugh too hard that Noah named one of his children Ham. A huge accomplishment considering the last time we discussed Noah and his son Ham they acted a fool all week claiming that they would name their offspring Salami and Bacon. Little idiots. Anyway, have patience; I do love you ever so much; certainly more than my IUD but that's another post.