So after much thought and deliberation, here I am with a blog. I plan to put a lot of things I’ve already written (and I will let you know stuff like “this was written in FB on / / .”), as well as general musings, and probably a bunch of stuff about my weight loss (man do I have a LOT to say about that). I welcome you, I warn you, and I send you on your way. Stay on the path, be out of the woods before dark, and don’t trust the wolf that says he knows a shortcut. He’s full of crap.
I think everyone has that one Pixar character that they relate to. That one that is just so THEM. For me, at first it was Wall-E. The fact that I identified with a freaking ROBOT of all things is highly amusing to me. Then it was Merida from Brave, from her badass bow and arrow (I shot for many years and was DAMN good), to her fighting for her own hand to decide when (and if) she chose to marry. But I have finally found the Pixar character that is so much like me, so true to my life, that I suspect that they had someone follow me around to get information.
People, I am a character from Moana.
I am Hei-Hei.
Yes, I am referring to that derp ass chicken.
I swear that is ME.
This chicken never really knows what the Hell is going on, and just kind of derps his way through life.
Last week, I actually wrote down a date as 2013. I have no idea what is going on. And day by day, I just kinda go around all “derp derp derp”… I seriously think I might be part muppet.
Dorky, derpy, and 100% me….Hei-Hei, the Derp Ass Chicken. We even kind of look alike.
I know, I know, I’ve been gone for awhile, so sue me. And now that I’m back, I have a question for you:
I have heard before that in small town America, the bartering system is alive and well. Is this true? Have you (or someone you know) experienced it? If so, please tell me about it! Did a gas station let you mop the floor for some gas for your car? Did a restaurant let you bus some tables for soup and a sandwich?
Please let me know, I want to see if this is true. While I doubt a Starbucks would give you coffee for sweeping off their walkway, a local mom and pop type place might, and that’s what I want to hear about!
I think about this movie quite a bit (see my entry “Glinda the Good Witch Is a Psycho”). I’ve wondered for years if maybe the movie was a cautionary tale. Yes, I know it was based on the series of children’s books by L. Frank Baum, but even so, I think I may be right.
Let’s take a look at Dorothy Gale. In the books, she was a child, 10 years old. But in the movie, she was obviously MUCH older. In real life, Judy Garland was 17. I’m not sure if this is true, but I read somewhere that they made her bind her breasts in an attempt to look younger, but it didn’t work. Sister had a huge rack.
But that plays right into my cautionary tale as well.
The “Dust Bowl Migration”, as it was called, happened during the 1930’s. The midwest was mostly farmland at the time. It had been overfarmed to death, and there was a severe drought that came in three waves: 1934, 1936, and 1939, but some places had a straight through drought lasting 8 years. The topsoil (and any seeds farmed in it) pretty much blew away. It started in 1930 and lasted roughly 9 years, until 1939, affecting parts of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma. The Great Depression (1929 – 1939) was already in full swing. So now you had people who couldn’t afford food, and there wasn’t much to be had. Farmers couldn’t even grow enough to feed their own families, and were losing their land, either due to being unable to pay their mortgage, or because there was no point in keeping it when the ground was useless.
Many decided to head West, mainly to California.
I’m sure many of these people had stars in their eyes. They would become a famous actor or actress, and be rich, and never have to worry again. The streets would be paved with gold. I have no doubt that many then (as now) were taken advantage of by unscrupulous people, looking to take whatever they had from them, however little it was. Surely there were some very pretty ladies who got into some very bad situations.
But this is where the warnings of The Wizard of Oz come in. You’re going to California (Oz) to be a star? It’s a very strange place (Munchkinland). There will be many strange, downright freakish, people, that may be thoughtless, heartless, and cowardly (The Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion).
There may be someone who can help you (Glinda the Good Witch), but watch that they don’t turn on you (The Wicked Witch of the West). Don’t trust the men (The Great and Powerful Oz), they will say anything to gain your trust (pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, and of course I will take you home in my hot air balloon). At the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, you will realize that THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME.
What do you think?
dust storm in Kansas in 1937
buried farm equipment in Dallas, South Dakota in 1936
Although this is a review, it’s not sponsored.
It’s funny, I ordered V.I.Poo (lemon scented of course) online, and it got delivered the same day that the mom unit came home from Bed, Bath, and Beyond with a bottle of PooPourri (vanilla mint scented).
We anxiously awaited a time where one of us needed to…y’know. Anyhow, it wasn’t long. According to both bottles, they tell you to spray 3 to 5 times before you do your business. Maybe we just aren’t that bad, because 1 to 2 spritzes work just fine for us. If you’ve got a MAN SIZE STINK, you may need 5 spritzes, who knows?
Anywho, you spray it right into the toilet on the water before you do your thing.
Our verdict is that they both work equally well, and if memory serves (we got these last month), the prices were close. The bottles are small, but actually, if you’re only using a few spritzes each time you do a number 2, it’s plenty. BONUS: they are small enough to carry in your purse for when you’re out in public and need to…drop it like it’s hot. I was glad I brought mine when I had to use the toilet in the doctor’s office. Those girls are so nice, I didn’t want them to gag from the stench.
The V.I.Poo we have is 1.85 ounces, the PooPourri is 4 ounces, the bottles are cute, and can sit on the back of your toilet until you need to used them (or hang out in your bag).
Final verdict? Silly names, yes. But it’s high time an actual product worked the way this does. Our bathroom smells lemony fresh or like vanilla and mints instead of like some horrible perfumed air freshener and poop.
With net neutrality dead in the water, likely this blog is too. I am unemployed and cannot afford to pay for internet for things like this. As it is, I don’t know how I’ll afford to pay for it to look for a job. It was fun while it lasted.
The first scary movie I ever saw was Poltergeist. I was maybe 8 or 9, and I probably shouldn’t have watched it. As a child, I was NOT into scary movies AT ALL. I watched it because I was spending the night at a friend’s house, and it was on cable. It scarred me for life (it’s the main reason I hate clowns). I didn’t watch any horror movies for years afterward.
Fast forward to a few years later at a friends slumber party. The first horror movie we watched there was one from 1982 called Pieces. We spent most of the movie laughing at the clothes and hairdos and atrocious acting. Then we watched a movie that I can never forget.
We watched Sleepaway Camp.
If you have watched this movie, YOU KNOW. You know and I don’t even have to say anything. If you haven’t seen this movie, please do so. It’s got a twist ending that to this day makes people’s eyes pop right out of their head. You spend most of the movie trying to figure out who the killer is, and when it’s revealed…..let’s just say that M. Night Shyamalan WISHES he could do a twist like this.
Let me say, that was my first time ever seeing a penis (and I am giving away nothing by saying this). I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at. I was 11. I turned to my friend and said, “Is that a guy’s thing?” And she said, “Yeah.” I was absolutely HORRIFIED by it. Not the penis itself, just that it was so hairy. I mean you could barely see it in all that hair. It really confused me. Seriously, in all of my life, I’ve never seen one so damn hairy.
What horror movies scarred you for life?
(Full disclosure: these are FB posts from 11/24/17 and 11/27/17 respectively, just to give you an idea of what’s going on.)
I’ve been m.i.a. (online anyway) for the past two days. Wednesday, I woke up at 2 a.m. with a migraine. I was supposed to go help my aunt with some stuff (and get paid), but I had to cancel. I spent the day on the couch with the TV on very low. I had my little eye shades on to keep the light out. The right side of my head hurt so bad, and a new thing, the right side of my face hurt as well. At just after 8 p.m., I couldn’t stand it anymore, and we took a cab to the hospital (I can only hope my Medi-Cal/ACA covers it). I wore my eye shades all the way there and in the emergency room as well. After waiting 45 – 60 minutes, I finally got seen, and they put me on a gurney. The kept me in a darkened area (bless them), and hooked me up to a heart monitor and blood pressure cuff.
They put an IV into me (god, I hate those), and gave me compazine and benadryl to see if that would work, as they can both relax you, and they were hoping it would relax whatever was misfiring in my brain. It didn’t. After another hour or so, I was crying in pain, and shaking all over. My teeth were even chattering so hard that my mom thought I might chip or break a tooth, and I wasn’t cold. They didn’t want to do it, but they gave me some morphine.
Without about 30 minutes, my pain had gone down from 10+ to about a 6, and in less than an hour, it was a 2 and I told them I wanted to go home.
But the fun wasn’t over yet!
I got up, but I had been laying all day and had relaxing drugs in my system. My legs were shaky, I got dizzy and nauseous, and my body felt exhausted, like I’d just run 100 laps. I almost fell. I really wanted to go home. So I asked if it was possible to get a wheelchair, just to get to the lobby (mom still needed to call a cab to come get us). Luckily, they got me a wheelchair, and we went out and mom called a cab and we got home.
But I couldn’t walk well still the next day (Thanksgiving), so mom had to sit home with me instead of going to dinner at my aunt’s. We had french fries for dinner, but it wasn’t horrible. A bunch of the Resident Evil movies were on SyFy, so we watched those (mom’s a big fan).
I even got a lovely souvenir bracelet…
That was (NOT) fun.
Woken up from a sound sleep at 5 am by what sounded like rattling metal. Almost went back to sleep until I realized it was from the gate next to my bedroom (my bedroom is at the front/side of the building) being rattled by someone or something. Decided to peek out mom’s bedroom window. Didn’t see anyone in the little walkway between our building and the fence that separates it from the next building. Almost went back to sleep again, but something told me to look again. In the carport next door (of what is a secure building), I see a guy walking along. No big deal, I think he lives there and is going to his car to go to work. But again, something tells me to keep watching. I see him open a door down there, that was likely empty storage, then he tries the security door that leads to their stairwell. It’s locked. Around this time, I grabbed the phone and called 911 to report a prowler. It was kind of hard, as I didn’t know the address of the building, but they were able to figure it out. I watched as the guy put on some gloves, and pulled something out of his pocket, then started to fiddle with the door, I assume trying to pick the lock.
He worked at it for about a minute (me watching through a crack in the blinds the entire time), then he gave up and started walking away in the other direction. I stayed on the line with the dispatcher as he disappeared from my line of sight.
After he was gone, I saw a girl come from that direction, but she was just getting in her car to leave. I worry what would have happened if they had crossed paths.
The cops came in less than five minutes, no lights or siren (common when there is a prowler/robbery in progress). The cop went over and looked through the somewhat well lit carport, even checking all the shadows with a flashlight, then came to talk to me, and I told him what I saw and showed him the areas through the window.
It sucked because I couldn’t give a good description, other than it appeared to be a male (guys walk differently than girls). The guy was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt/coat and had a black backpack, so he could have been anyone you see walking down the street.
I told the cop that I didn’t understand what he hoped to accomplish getting into the stairwell, as all the units have steel security screen doors, but the cop assured me that, “Whatever it was, he was up to no good,” and assured me I did exactly what I should have.
I may go over there later today and just give the manager a heads up.
I was already on edge as the cops were at our building twice last night for a guy violating his restraining order.