I miss you. I miss the act of writing, I miss being a snarky smartas, I miss having somewhere to vent, I miss my commenters, I miss having the inspiration. Maybe soon…


One of my relatives sent an email to some of her other relatives (am I being vague enough) to say she really didn’t want photos of her to be posted on Facebook.

Once I was done laughing (since you can’t really stop anyone except by asking your relatives like she did but which won’t really help for the other 450,000 relatives, friends and/or acquaintances on FB), I emailed her back with some screen shots of how privacy works on FB and the (only 2) photos I know of her that exist on FB, just to give her an idea.

It is pretty Orwellian, but she uses Gmail (which I consider more Orwellian than FB) and suggested also check her Gmail settings and that I could send some other privacy website links, etc.

Later, I went back to FB, got sucked into the vortex and clicked on someone’s friend’s picture (hey – never hurts to look).

For whatever reason (OK I was checking him out) I looked through his photo albums (because I could). To further illustrate my point that what photos you see depends on what peoples’ privacy settings are, I emailed one of the photos I found.

Now I don’t even know this guy, but because he is a friend of a friend who has his photos marked as viewable by friends of friends I ‘get’ to see pix like this.

One relative replied, saying “Oh good god.  I’m guessing that’s NOT making you feel any better <insert requesting relative’s name here>… I know I’m a bit traumatized by it.”

THAT cracked me up.

But then the “requesting relative” sent back the following message: “now I can’t stop laughing.  what the flarg?!?”

FLARG?! Now I can’t stop laughing!!! Where does she get these words?!

So here’s the photo that inspired such reactions. I’d say this dude (the one on the left is whose photos I was looking at) is fully comfortable in his identity and quite not going to be interested in me!!

Before the other night I had my suspicions but I didn’t say anything. But the other night my sister and her husband brought this up out of the blue because (I bet) they thought they were the only ones who’d noticed this.

I STG this is true: Our dogs do ‘fake pees.’ We take them out, tell them to go to the bathroom, they do a quick squat, make the motion, only nothing comes out.

I’ve seen Fanny do this before and thought nobody would believe me if I said something, but since my sister and brother-in-law were the ones to bring it up about their dog I felt the shackles fall, and confirmed their sanity (at least on that matter).

Don’t you wish everyone was as accommodating and eager to please that they would actually ‘fake pee’ (or whatever you wanted – hopefully not fake pee) just to make you happy? Dang, I sure would love that…

Mmm boy did I raise some hackles last night on FaceBook. I just snapped.

Normally, I mostly live and let live. If you’re effed up so be it. If I disagree with you about something non-religious or non-political I’ll let you know, but it’s usually about something trivial and I can joke my way out of most serious conflicts.

But believe it or not there are a lot of things I keep quiet about.

No really.

Especially with my family, which IN GENERAL, is a rather zealous conservative catholic lot. Plus they’re smart and they argue back and can cite footnotes and stuff.

Well, one of my cousins put up as her “profile picture” a “pro-life” image. I can’t explain it but it just set me OFF. Her view is totally expected, given her parentage and their seriously right-leaned catholicism, but all of a sudden I just thought “I cannot be silent any more.”

So I found an image of a hanger with the red bar “no” symbol through it and said, “You can’t stop women from having them so keep them legal and safe.”

And there it was: The Stand. Ooh the comments flew from the west coast contingent. Then my friends chimed in. It was the classic debate, only I didn’t want to debate. I just tried to say, “Look: this is how it IS. It’s not how you want it to be. You can’t stop it, so at least keep it safe.”

But people just kept wanting to take it to another level – the esoteric, theoretical, intellectual, scientific level.

Just couldn’t get people away from that, and back to the reality of real life, but it went the (in hindsight) predictable way. It was ugly.

To me* it came down to “Look: you can’t have it both ways. You can’t expect people who are on the bottom tier of Maslowe’s Hierarchy of Needs to give a crap about their ovulation schedule and use natural family planning, or tell people to not have sex or not use birth control, then not give them any leeway or support if /when they become unexpectedly pregnant. What do you do for the women after you go “save babies”? Do you give them emotional, financial, life-skills techniques?” No, probably not. Nobody said they did anyway.

They just vote on a single issue, expect people to live the way they deem right, and say “eff you” to the ‘post-saving’ practical support. It really pisses me off!

I’d just had it and felt like I had to speak out.

I feel my true “self” is muted enough from my family (I’m the raging liberal, pro-choice, agnostic, F word spouting feminist, although I’m really working on the F word part — not my most attractive quality), because a high premium has been placed on “being nice” and “not stirring things up.”

But I spoke out. No other family members really chimed in except in private mail. But I had good support from my friends.

Granted, it’s a heated topic that not everyone wants to discuss — usually I stay away from these debates myself, so I understand. We tend to avoid politics and religion anyway, right? and some would say this is BOTH.

But it’s kind of sad I got pushed to fury before I had the courage to say something. Still, I’m glad I did it. I felt (excuse the cliché) freed. In their minds I’m probably damned to hell (apparently they live on a different earth than I do), and I’m sure they pity and will pray for me. Well, cool on the prayer. I’ll take all the good wishes I can get.

Still, it’s disheartening that people are so stuck in their dogma that they can’t see past it to another way of looking at an issue. I was basically agreeing with them in the sense that there should be no abortion. But that’s where any possible commonality ended.

I gave a real example of how a guy who does work for me is so ignorant (in the truest sense of the word) that he didn’t know that once digital tv came in he didn’t have to lose all his tv channels. Not to mention that you could get a converter, etc. He had no idea, despite all the commercials and hype about it.

He lives in another world of surviving through the day, not thinking about or possibly knowing about, “natural family planning” or all that crap. It’s a world this contingent of the family doesn’t understand.

So disheartening…

*and this is my blog, so things will always come down to my opinion

Edit: forgot to acknowledge Karen for giving me the word/definition of ‘spoon’ in this context.

Every year for Xmas our (sibs and parents’) stockings contain a useful product that varies from year to year.

It’s become a joke of sorts (maybe you have to be there). Some past useful product stocking stuffers have been:

-paper clips

-masking tape

-scotch tape (This one lasted for at least 5 years.)

-super glue


For the past few years it’s been super glue. This year I got THREE tubes of it (to add to the 2 still left from last year).

Did you know super glue has a limited lifespan? I’d forgotten until I tried both of my super glues and re-remembered (from previous occasions) that they dry up pretty easily.

Both tubes I already had were solidly glued to themselves, even though one had never even been opened.

So tonight, as part of cleanup efforts, I tried to do some misc. tasks, including re-glueing my favorite spatula (wood and silicone).

I was going to give my extra tubes of glue to the Habitat for Humanity Re-Store this year, but luckily (or so I thought), the Re-Store was closed the week I was going to drop off a bunch of stuff, so I still had the 3 tubes I got this year.

Go down to the basement and get them all (I don’t know why I got all of them either) and selected the tube that didn’t require me to go find a pin to open it. I chose the one with the pin built into the lid.

Except it turned out I didn’t need it. When I opened the tube a whole bunch of super glue oozed out on various parts of fingers (and the stereotypical between the fingers) and onto the table.

Oops. Someone inadvertently gave me an open one. Easy to happen considering whoever gave them to us this year must have had at least 15 tubes they gave away (assuming everyone else also got 3).

Well having my priorities in line, I quickly separated the fingers and glued the damn spatula.

I then assessed the damage: 4 finger tips, between 2 fingers, 1 knuckle, on the table, and the bonus napkin pieces stuck to 2x 3 of the 4 finger tips (I had grabbed the napkin in order to prevent the finger tips from getting goop on them – HA!).

After finding the minutely-written “Caution” box and reading the ‘how to remove’ instructions from underneath my brand new glasses that are but one of 4 pairs with the the OLD prescription in the lenses because they used the wrong script to fill and refill my lenses, I learned that I had to SOAK my “affected areas” (except around the eyes) in nail polish remover.

It’s just a particularly noxious chemical that I try to avoid using unless needed, but hey — desperate measures and all that.

I soaked everything (except the table) but guess what? I got only part of 1 of the napkins to come off, and only by gently peeling while praying to god I wouldn’t remove 4 layers of skin.

The polish remover didn’t work. The tube says water will remove it gradually over the next several days.

Know why the nail polish remover didn’t work? Because ‘keep it less toxic if possible’ Marie/y got the polish remover without acetone.


So I have this super glue on 4 finger tips (including in the cracks of the skin – not dry cracks, just cracks I’d never noticed before I got super glue in them), on a knuckle, and still between the fingers (not stuck together but on 2 fingers). Screw the table.

I also now have really dry hands and finger tips I probably don’t have to worry about being frost-bitten for the next ??? # of days.

But by golly my favorite spatula is re-glued.


I couldn’t avoid,,,ran into had to see ,,saw the seventeen year man at a birthday party a couple of weeks ago.

Wait, let me back up: I actually chose to be in his presence at New Year’s thing because his brother was in town and I wanted to see him. But I pretty much ignored him. –>musical interlude–>”I’m looking through you- where did you go? I thought I knew you. What did I know? You don’t look different but you have changed. I’m looking through you. You’re not the same.” reeh reeh reeder reeder, reeh reeh reeder reeder “Baby you’ve changed. Yeah.  I’m lookin’ through you.” (Beatles never go out of style.)<–end of interlude

<side note: I grew up with the whole family, was best buds with one of ’em, dated one, have been friends with and in touch with many, and they’re pretty much my alternate family. Or have been in different phases of my life.>

Anyway, a few weeks ago, one of his sisters and I were talking and she asked if he’d called me. I was confused – as I said “Why would he call me?!” I couldn’t think of one reason, especially since I didn’t even talk to him at the holiday deal.

According to his sister, seeing me at New Year’s ‘sparked’ something in him and he wanted to call and ask me out but (and this says everything I guess) ‘he was scared I would curse him’ if he called me.

Again, I must refer you to the prologue so you understand why I think I can rightly say this…but I told his sister that I wouldn’t curse him out (though clearly he had a clue about why I’d be justified doing so), however,

1. I think I know where that spark was located and it was a little south of the mind or heart, 2. did he forget that he ‘forgot’ to break up with me lo those 17+ years ago? and 3. he’s getting old and freaking out and wants a mommy to take care of him.

For some reason, I guess she never told him all that because he walked up to me at the birthday party (remember that topic?!) and said something random about going back to Amsterdam. I breezily wished him  a good trip and walked away, when he called out “Muhree! blah blah blah – kept talking but lost me at Muhree

<side note: My name is spelled Marie but it is (as you know) pronounced Mary (thanks again, Mom and Dad).>

I whipped around and said, “WHAT did you just call me?” You would’ve thought he had yelled out “hey ‘ho!” or “hey beeatch” if you’d heard how I said it, but I was beyond shocked. It just came out (the words  that’d go on my tombstone if I weren’t being cremated).

Not only did he remember my name 6 months ago, but I’ve known this guy for the better part of 40 years. FORTY. Not to mention the 3+ years we were in a (apparently loosely-based) relationship. Seriously? “Muhreeeee?” WTF dude?! Way to ingratiate yourself. But I digress…

One of his sisters called me ‘Muhree’ at the bar after her mother’s memorial service, but she’s an alcky cokehead who lives across the country anyway, so while it pi**sed me off, this little malaprop (sp?) just frosted my as* for the rest of the night, as anyone who I talked at afterwards can attest to.  Obviously, it’s bugging me enough still to even write about it…

I can forgive someone from grade school I haven’t seen for 10 years but FORTY?! Come on. Seriously, that would be like one of my blood relatives calling me Muhree. Some things are just not excusable…

I know I need to let it go, and I certainly don’t obsess over it or even ponder it (wwbd*?) but for now it is a fingernail on my chalkboard.

*what would buddha do?<–He wouldn’ write this rant, I can tell you that much…

This has got to be one of the best gifts ever. I got it from 2 of my sisters, who made them.


As my sister told me before I opened it, “cash is king right now” so they gave me 23 boxes made with a dollar bill top and a dollar bill bottom (23 x 2 = 46 = my age).

Then each of the boxes had 2 pennies in it (again 23 x 2=46 = my age).

Anyhoo, not only is it the coolest, most creative idea, but the execution is fabulous! Did you see how the “ONE” is centered on each box? And the boxes actually open and close easily. Definitely zoom (click on) this photo because I couldn’t edit it due to operator error:


And oh my lord the effort it took.  Even though I’m the one who says she “puts the anal back into analyst” I wouldn’t have the patience to fold and piece those all together.

I’d start smoking again or just throw a rubber band around the bunch and say “Here. Deal. It’s the thought that counts.” So you will not likely receive a gift like this from me.

The best part of this gift is all of the effort and care that went into it, of course. I don’t want to take them apart!!


Side note: Sorry for the crappy-as@ out of focus photos. I used my cell phone camera.

Consumer tip: If you care about pix, either make sure your cell phone’s camera has auto-focus or kwitcherbellyakin’, don’t be so GD lazy and just get out your real camera…

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