A Jury of My Peers

Weeeeeeeelllll, I have now seen it all. That's a pretty big statement considering that I have seen quite a bit in my 40+ years.

I had to report for jury duty. Or as I now like to call it "Holy Batsh*t, our legal system is in a whole lotta hot water duty". I don't even know where to start with the whole-lotta wrong I saw.

I get to the court house early and finally find a parking spot that is somewhere between the building and the middle of bejesus nowhere. I park my car, pay the meter, walk in the rain/drizzle to the courthouse while avoiding the advances of a couple of "displaced" persons. Then I get to the courthouse and have to go through a metal detector and a security screening process that would be an embarrassment to even the White House screening staff. I took my knitting bag and a book since anyone who has ever been called to jury duty knows, you are going to be bored off your bum for hours on end. First off, my knitting needles were bamboo and the tips are rounded, so any threat this middle class white chick was going to be was to her yarn and not to the judge. Bubba the cop-wanna-be who was in charge of checking my bag, kept trying to UNSCREW the needles from the plastic cord that attaches them! Yep, boy wonder was a mental giant among men, but he is nothing compared to the people I got to spend the next couple of hours with in an air conditioned (it's 40 degrees outside!) room.

Once I sat down, I quickly got out my knitting and tried not to make eye contact. I heard somewhere that it's a sign of aggression in prisons and since a lot of the people in that room looked like they were fairly intimate with that part of our legal system, I wasn't taking any chances. Somewhere between my fifth K1P1 row, I looked up to see something that even in a Ho-ho/xanax induced craze, I would NEVER have thought up. There was this woman, weighing in at roughly 275 pounds, walking towards me. By looking at her hair and make up, you would have thought she was going to a casting call for The Love of Ray Jay. Then I caught full sight of her fashion choice for the day.

When I got my jury summons, right there at the bottom was a little note about wearing clothing appropriate for the somber atmosphere of a court room. I have no idea what it said at the bottom of this lady's jury summons. I think it might have said "Pimp and Ho attire welcome" or wear what you wore the last time you were in front of a judge. She had on jeans in a size she probably wore back in 1997, but hasn't seen since then and ~ wait for it~~~~~~ A TUBE TOP!!!! With sequins!!! And this tube top was working overtime trying to keep her massive mamas hidden from view. Personally, the fact that everyone in that room didn't get a full frontal assault from those jugglies is a testament to the strength of cotton. Did I mention it is December? It was 43 degrees outside? The jury room was freezing as well? To her credit, she had completed the outfit with a big Michelian Man looking parka, but she wasn't wearing it. Just carrying it around as a fashion statement. All of this was being moved around by a pair of 6 inch, bright red, plastic-leather-clear-heeled hooker heels.

It took me five minutes to close my mouth and realize she was not going to topple over me as she passed. And trust me, I was so relieved when she chose to sit on the bench two rows away from me. I spent the rest of the time waiting to be called, looking at this woman and thinking, "If this was your best choice of the things you had to wear. What was your second choice?"

After that it was pretty much a blur. I was called. They asked questions. I answered in the manner I felt that would work best to insure I NOT get selected. Yes, I believe in the death penalty for stealing candy from babies. Yes, I think we should bring back the guillotine. No, I don't think embezzling should be a capital offense, if you are taking rich people's money. Could we hurry this up my Knights of the White Magnolia meeting is in two hours and I have to pick my sheets up at the cleaners. Yeah, none of that worked because I was impanelled and have to report back on January 11th.

As we were being released for the day, I saw Ms. Tube Top walking out of the court house. Guess what? She had a nice notice of impanelment piece of paper in her hands as well. I now feel free to commit any crime I want, because I can tell you that if that woman was on my jury, I would have significant grounds for an appeal. None of my peers would be caught dead in a tube top, let a lone a tube top in a courtroom, in December!!

An Open Letter to my Cats

Dear Family Felines:

As you well know, things have started to settle into a nice routine since the newest edition to the Tastrophie household arrived. Now that we have overcome the small issue of a certain orange someone's addiction to my panties (see blog post of September 23rd), I would like to address some of the other issues we are experiencing while cohabiting.

First, my house is not a NASCAR race track. Nowhere does it say Indie 500 or Churchill Downs on my property. I know the lay out of the rooms makes a nice little circle if I leave all the doors open. It is tempting to take a lap or two around the house every now and then and being the competitive siblings that you are, I understand the need for a little race-and-chase. However, we might want to rethink the timing of our daily workouts. I suggest some time between 7 a.m. and 5 p.m. when I am at work and not likely to get my legs broken by the sudden impact of two felines going top speed around the corner. And not between 5 a.m. and 7 a.m. when I am still coming to terms with the fact that I have to be awake, for which I am not the happiest of campers to begin with. Notice that I did not include any time after 9 p.m. or before 5 a.m. This time is reserved for Mommy's sleeping and should be revered as sacred. I have inflicted bodily harm on people for messing with my sleeping; I am not above knocking your racing rear to the curb at 5 a.m.

Second, if it is in a glass/mug or on a nice plate and it smells good, it belongs to me. I do not need you to check my drink/food for poison as I am the one who fixed it and poisoning is not the method I am going to chose to off myself with any time soon. Especially after you have just returned from using the cat "facilities" and have litter mushed in your paws. Please be so kind as to at least do a preliminary wash down before attempting to check the coldness of my ice cubes with your paws. I bought you both some really nice, overly priced prices of "flatware" on which your meals are placed every morning. I can't really imagine that your culinary tastes run towards the Lean Cousine and South Beach Diet pallet as you mostly lick your rear end or fur on a daily basis. I still find it a stretch that the makers of cat food pretend you actually know the difference between roasted duck and chicken tartar. Seriously, I don't know why they just don't flavor them like fur and hinney, since that's what you are licking half the time anyway. Either way, since my tastes do not run in the fur and hinney directions, I would appreciate it if you would not mess with my food.

Third, personal habits. There are boundaries to our relationship. Do I go and stare at you when you are in the litter box? No. I would appreciate it if you would not walk in and sit smack dab in front of me and stare while I am trying to use mine. First, it creeps me out. Second, I don't work well under pressure and your need to have the end-all-be-all of staring contests at this crucial moment in my life really messes with my head. I am coming to terms with your fascination towards the shower/bath. I have stopped having small heart attacks at the sight of you jumping through the shower curtain and shower liner a~la Psycho/Norman Bates. And I no longer hear the theme from Jaws every time you stalk me while I am in the bath tube. Which pretty much leaves your staring at me while I put my make up on the only thing that we have left to deal with in the bathroom.

This brings us to other things for which I don't need an audience. To put it politely, if Mommy is gettin' jiggy with it in the bedroom, you should go entertain yourself in the other room. Really. I can't tell you what it does to my psyche to look up and have the two of you sitting on the dresser staring at me like the olympic gymnastic judging team. Half the time I expect you to start holding up score cards and to hear Nadia Comaneci doing a recap of the night's activities. I had both of you snipped to keep the feline population in check, not to create two voyeuristic peeping tom cats.

Now, I know that I have some issues in our cohabitation as well, and I promise to work on these. As soon as I win the lottery, I promise to stop working 14 hour days and be home more often or at least awake when I am home during the week. I understand your addiction to that kitty-crack-cat-nip and will make a sincere effort to have a better stash on hand at all times, and not just when I remember to pick it up while standing in line at the pet store after running out of cat food at the end of the month and having to feed you tuna for two days in a row until payday. In addition, I promise to try to curl into an even smaller ball while sleeping in order to give you maximum bed space available for your night time slumbers. I know it was wrong of me to think that my bed is there for my own sleep comfort. Silly me.

Love

Mom~tastrophie

Turkey for One

I have had the best Thanksgiving! School got out on Tuesday and the Fearsome Foursome headed out for some celebratory ritas and enchiladas. Nothing like starting an American tradition in the Tex-Mex way :-) I was so looking forward to five whole days of nothing to do! By nothing I mean I planned an entire list of "To-Do's" to get done.

Since this year, I was not going anywhere for Thanksgiving, I had planned to spend the five days powering through my list and relaxing. Now, I love spending time with my family and my family has always come first, but this year it was nice not to have to haul my rear around the country like a turkey with it's head cut off. I spent Thursday knitting, watching movies and cheering on my beloved (yet losing) Aggies as they once again lost to Texas. Judging by the fact that I never got out of my Pj's ~ it was awesome!

Now, there is that "To-Do" list I was talking about. Being the anal-retentive-control freak that my mother raised, I have a pretty long list of things.

The list looked something like this:
1. Clean out and organize personal files
1a. remove outdated files
1b. make new folders for old kept items
1c. make new folders for non-filed items

2. Balance and prep budget for upcoming holiday season
2a. checkbook update
2b. holiday spending list
2c. Estimate Birthday money wind-fall :-)

3. CLEAN (not clean, but scrub the ever loving daylights out of type CLEAN) the house
3a. clean & Detox cat box
3b. dust, vac, and mop all surfaces
3c. Clean in this order: Living room, bdrm, ktch, bath, then cat stuff

4. Laundry ~ including mending and ironing
4a. dryell
4b. bleached items

5. Update my knitting on Ravelry (knitting website)

Told you I was annal about it. I like to think that in a past life I would have been Martha Stewart or Leona Hemsley.

Here is what I have actually managed to accomplish:
1. Ate an entire package of Sultana Biscuits (my favorites that I get in Bonaire)
2. Knitted the bodice of two sweaters (waiting on yarn to finish one)
3. Finished reading "Shopaholic Ties the Knot"
4. Slept
5. Watched Cake Boss marathon ~ all 12 hours straight!
6. Made napping an Olympic sport.

Since I am now three days into my five day holiday break, I am thinking I am not going to make a dent in my actual "To-Do" list. Being one who hates to do anything half-arsed, I think I will chuck the list all together. (Save those things for another more productive time.) Bummer thing is that I can't blame my lazies on the Turkey-trypto-thingy.

Here's hoping you had a Wonderful and Happy Thanksgiving.

Will Read For Food

Once again this year I am teaching Language Arts. Ironic isn't it? Since I tend to be the Queen of the Comma Splice and the run-on sentence. Not to mention, that my writing style is so not exactly in line with the MLA style. But hey, you know what they say, "those who can do ~ those who can't teach". (Which is truer than you think.)

I also got tasked with being the "Reading" teacher. Now when I was a kid, by the 7th grade, most of us knew how to read, so I took that as an indication that my students would also know how to read. Yeah, I was wrong. I was thought that everyone valued an education...eventually. Yeah, I was wrong. Less than 60 years ago, we read pretty much as part of our daily lives. Until T.V. came into our world and started sucking our will to learn straight out of us. As kids we used to read from books! Not iPods, Kindles, or computer screens. And kids read things like Shakespeare, Keates, and Shelley; not Patterson, Rowling, and Meyers.

Today, I spend more time "dumbing down" my lessons than I do actually teaching. Remember learning to diagram sentences in order to learn about subordinate clauses, noun - verb agreement and dangling modifiers? Ah, we don't teach that any more. "It's too difficult" for students today to "grasp" that concept. Did IQ's drop suddenly since the 1980's? I have students who are reading "Curious George" because they can't comprehend a sentence structure that includes a noun, verb, adverb, and an adjunctive. They are still amazed when I tell them "She swam" is a complete sentence! I don't think any one of them today would be able to survive the educational process that was in place 100 years ago. Come to think of it, neither would I since I couldn't speak Latin if my life depended on it.

Education used to be HARD. If you were privileged enough to get any education, let alone a "good" one. Most people who were able to go, went to a one room school. Where all grades were taught simultaneously and no one gave a rat's ass if you were a kinetic, auditory, or whatever learner. You got what you gave and you earned your grade. Today, I have to give "participation" grades in order to even out GPA's and I am not allowed to "give" below a 50% on anything! This includes assignments where a student does NOTHING!! I have to give this "grade" when a student doesn't even TURN IN THE WORK!! Tell me, what I am "teaching" my students by rewarding them with a grade for nothing! WOW! If I had known I could get half my paycheck for doing half or none of the work, I would have been surfing the net on company time years ago. Yeah, that's a real life lesson. And it still doesn't teach them to read.

The students tell me they don't need to read because they can watch everything on the TV or listen to books on audio! I am beginning to think that one day job applications will be completely verbal. No writing, just answering into a little microphone your response to things like name, age, education level... Who needs a high school diploma or a college degree?

Sixty years ago not everyone went to college or finished school, but just knowing how to read, cypher and do math were impressive things. If you were blessed with the means, your education was more robust and harder. Seriously, anyone out there (other than MJenks) know how to read Latin? Speak two or more nonnative languages fluently? Know how to fence and ballroom dance? Can you run a household with a staff similar to that of a small business while maintaining proper decorum and finding a suitable mate before you become a spinster at the rip-old age of 20? How about knowing the simple basics of being a gentleman or lady? Don't even think this stuff is taught these days. I went to cotillion classes when I was in 8th grade. My students have never even heard the word cotillion. Please and thank you won't come out of their mouths without a crowbar and a jack hammer.

No Child Left Behind has not left our children behind, it has lowered the bar to the point that a slug could pass over it and be considered a rocket scientist. I hope one day we will remember that not everyone gets to be a rocket scientist and start making education worth earning. Not just a baby sitting location for children ages 5-17. Society can't handle a 30% drop out rate. The jobs just aren't there anymore and the military isn't a holding ground for them. I am off to figure out how to inspire a new generation to read and write, so that one day their generation will be able to take care of themselves.

Update on Not Being Up to Date

I would like to take a moment to apologize for the long-time-no-post thing.  I have been battling with a pain in the @$$ thing called why-the-hell-will-it-not-stop-raining-and-let-the-sun-out?!  Which makes Ms. Tastrophie a little blue.  If you add that to the laugh-a-minute fun I have been having at work lately (seriously, I didn't know the word cock-sucker was still used among the under 15 set), I haven't been in the mood to write much other than my last will and testament, or my confession when cornered by the po-po for finally beating the sh*t out of one of my lovely little juvenile delinquent gang-banger-wannabes.

That doesn't mean I doesn't mean I don't have stories for ya.  My goal this weekend is to get them written and ready to fly come Monday.  Now, go about your weekend and don't bother mommy, she's getting her write on.

OH MY GAWD GIVE IT TO ME!!!

I am somewhere between nirvana and a toe curling scream right now.  I was watching t.v. and this vision appeared to me.  It was if the Ghost of Drinking Binges Past had come to visit me. There on my t.v. screen was the one thing that would make Ms. Tastrophie break down and beg for more.  If Elvis were alive and it was 1950-whatever, I would be screaming my throat out and tossin' some panties.  It's as if God knew my most secret-of-secret dreams and decided to grant them to me all at once.

Little Debbie, the makers of that little life saver known here as the Ho-Ho,* has created a contest just for me!!  They are giving away A MILLION HO-HO's!!!!!!  Just go to their website and enter.  OMG!! OMG!!! This is almost as good as sex!!  Except it has been so long since I have had sex that I am thinking this is as good as sex.  I maybe wrong.  Now if the makers of Xanax would just come out with a similar contest, Ms. Tastrophie's world would be perfect!!  

*Side note: Ho-ho's in Lisatastrophie's world are really Swiss Rolls (also made by Little Debbie), but have been called Ho-Ho's ever since a really crass girl's night several years ago. It's my blog/world and I will call it what I want.

Note on Nooners

The following is from my days in corporate life, when I worked for the nation's leading healthcare tech company.

Dear Co-worker:

Hi!  How are you?  I am going to assume that you are doing great considering the glow you have after returning from that extra-long lunch you took today.  In fact, I am going to go out on a limb and guess that you had a wham-bam good time at lunch.

I only say this because, we (your fellow co-workers) have noticed a few changes in you since you came back from that small 2 hour lunch you and the hot new guy from resource management took.  Like how bouncy and fluffy your hair is now.  It's a complete 180 from the semi-plastered look you were sporting this morning.  And speaking of sporting...  Do you remember in the 6th grade when they taught us about the birds & the bees?  Did you by any chance happen to pay attention to that part where they talk about hormones and pheromones?  You should have.  While, I am not one to knock knocking boots; I am one to advocate good hygiene and a quick little shower or some perfume after the quickie would be a good idea for next time.  

While we here at work are all so delighted in your happy-go-lately attitude that has suddenly developed ~ it is a welcome depart from the uptight b*tch you usually are; we did want to let you in on a little secret.  Yours is out!  No amount of sitting on a dead phone line while pretending to talk in an overly developed stage whisper to your best gal-pal "Cynthia" about how you just couldn't find the shoes you were looking for during your lunch hour and how the sales lady made you late getting back because she kept bringing you the wrong size, is going to make us think you did anything but get jiggy with it while you were gone.  

Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, we work in a glass building ...On the fourth floor.  One floor above the parking garage.  The garage that you and hot-guy from resource management both use while managing to park right next to each other...On the top level.  So, that little last minute grope session you two had right before you came back to work was a nice peep-show for those of us blessed with window cubicles (and anyone else we could manage to get the attention of during the fifteen minutes of fame the two of you were having).  Seriously, park on the second floor.  No one parks there and therefore would not have seen that you are not wearing panties or hose anymore.  Which, by the way, was another thing that tipped us off.  You had pantyhose on this morning.  Might I suggest having a back up pair just in case these little afternoon delights get a little rough on the original pair.  Just a suggestion.

Sincerely yours,

Ms. Tastrophies & 

The ENTIRE PathNet Team*

*cause you KNOW I told everyone and their uncle about this.