ImPerceptibility

Archive for December, 2009

The thing is, I hate being late. When I find myself running behind it causes me a lot of anxiety and sometimes mild panic. I don’t like to make people wait for me. It doesn’t bother me in the least if I have to wait for other people. I just can’t stand it when I am late, even just a few minutes.

I also serve dinner every night at 6:30, give or take 10 minutes. I’m not sure why I feel the need to serve dinner at that time every night, but I do. I don’t even think my family knows that dinner is at 6:30. They just show up in the dining room when I yell, Dinner! But I go to great lengths to make sure everything is scheduled to be done precisely at 6:30. Go figure.

You’d think I have some weird time obsession but I don’t. If no one is expecting me and it isn’t dinner time, time is irrelevant to me. I don’t own a watch and I haven’t owned one in about 20 years. I don’t have an alarm clock on my bedside table. I get up when the kids wake me up. I use my cell phone if I feel the need to know the time, but I only feel the need to know the time when I need to be somewhere. Otherwise I don’t care.

I’ve always been like this to some extent. In my past life (my life before kids) I worked as a system administrator for a very large computer lab. Every once in awhile I’d sit down in front of a computer first thing in the morning and start working. After what seemed like an hour to me, I’d look up and realize everyone else was leaving for the day. I may be timeatically challenged.

People sometimes laugh at me when I ask them what day it is. They’ll tell me the date and I’ll say, No, is it Wednesday or Friday? I’m not a scatterbrain. I just divide my days into weekdays and weekends. A weekend is any day that MyHusband is home. It works for me most of the time.

I’ve tried planners books and complex calendar systems. I’ve tried to organized my days into neat little blocks of time. I’ve tried to keep track of things in a linear fashion but I end up spending more time planning on doing things than actually doing things. It doesn’t work out for me.

I guess I’m okay. I get a lot done. I am rarely late for an appointment. I just don’t understand time. I don’t understand schedules.  If I had to go grocery shopping every Monday at 11 am I’d go insane.  I don’t like living my life in blocks of time pre-planned in a date book. Sometimes I wish I did. Life would be easier, I think. I’m just not linear and sometimes I run around in circles. I’m okay with that. Most of the time.

How about you?

[This was the post where Miss Brandie Learned about tags. She would eventually have an extemely long column of tags down the side of her page. Someone even mentioned it to her and she told them they were a good boy to try and help her out then ignored his suggestion.]

December 6, 2006
Telling you about The Christmas Spirit

Dear Reader,

It’s nice to have you back. I know I said I was going to talk about profanity today, but I’m not. It’s my blog and I can talk about whatever I want, so stop complaining. It’s getting close to Christmas and I’ve decided a little bit about Jesus would be good. Now don’t stop reading now. It’s for your own good. I wouldn’t have to be doing this if you had a little common sense.

Last year we were in church on Christmas Eve, like we were supposed to be, and it was a good service. We had a new preacher and he was trying his best to impress us. If you have a bad Christmas service it can ruin your whole reputation. That’s the only time most people actually get to see your service. You don’t get to try again until Easter. I was happy for the preacher. He was doing good. It got to be time for Holy Communion and he was fixing up the wine. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he sneezed. Right into the silver goblet. I sit up front and I believe I might have heard a small splash. My hearing isn’t what it use to be though.

Now, since it was Christmas, the church was packed and he had made a lot of wine into Christs blood. He wanted to make sure everyone could have a some. Thats his job! I think you can understand why not too many people went up there for a drink. I can’t say I blame them. The problem was, there was a lot left over that no one drank. Now you know damn well you can’t just pour that stuff out. It’s sacred for god’s sake!

The preacher did his best to get it down. You could tell that stuff was extra holy because he started turning all red and smiling. He handed the goblet off to the altar boy and the same thing started to happen to him. They were passing the goblet around the altar and I was thinking, “Why don’t they just give it to Deacon Joe?” We all know he’s a drunk. He could get rid of that stuff in no time flat. He would appreciate it too. But that didn’t happen. They finally managed to finish it off.

Anyways, that new preacher finished up the service and I tell you, he was filled with the spirit of Christmas. Christ himself would have been proud. I’ve never seen such a spirit filled preacher in my life. Unless I mention the time I went to get Mr. Brandie out of the bar and ran into Father Mike. But, of course, I’m not going to mention that. All I got to say is it was a good service. A real good service. I hope you understand a little more about the Christmas Spirit now. God Bless you.

Thanks for stopping by and I’ll be back next week. I don’t know what I’m going to be telling you about but it might be about profanity.

Sincerely,
Miss Brandie

Today the forecast calls for panic with a increased chance of extreme anxiety. Where the hell are my packages? You know the ones that have a lot of Youngest’s Christmas gifts, most of Oldest’s stuff, and ALL of MyHusband’s gifts.

I need to breathe. Deeply and slowly.

I thought I was done with Christmas shopping. I bought stuff on-line and I made the rounds to all the local shops for other gifts. I had everyone taken care of. I had a list. I checked it twice. I was organized and prepared. What was I thinking? Organized and prepared never works out for me.

Breathe. This is not the end of the world and there are a few more days until Christmas.

I was heartened when the UPS truck cruised through our neighborhood yesterday. Well until they drove right by my house without stopping.

I was sure The Post Office would deliver the other package yesterday. I mean people were out and about and the mail always gets through, right? Nope. Not a single mail truck sighting. Freakin’ wimps. You don’t get a snow day right before Christmas!

My Father-in-law will be here tomorrow. Luckily I bought his gift in November. Just need to wrap it.

I still need to get groceries. I need to finish baking. I need to wrap what I do have. I need to finish knitting a scarf and hat. I need to make another list. I need a shower. I need a beer. I need to get more beer ’cause we’re out and it’s way to early to start on the hard liquor. I need to finish cleaning the house. I need to hang the stockings by the chimney with care. I need a lot but no one is gonna give it to me so I better just get off my ass and get to work.

If you don’t hear from me I’m either frantically scrubbing toilets, washing towels, and wrapping presents or I’m passed out under the Christmas tree with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. Either way it’s all good. Have a great holiday!

P.S. Could someone please air drop me some Hershey kisses and diet coke? I’d be grateful.

[Disclaimer: Don't read this.  Seriously, don't read this.  I've listened to way too many Christmas songs and drank way too much diet coke today. It's sick and perverted.  You've been warned.]

A little know fact about me is that I was once one of Santa’s reindeer. I know you find this hard to believe, but it could be true, if it were true. And not only was I once a reindeer, I also had a very shiny nose. If you had see me back then you might have even thought it glowed. This an important part of the story so remember that. Nose glowed. Okay, now there is more to the story but it isn’t fit for children so be good for goodness sakes and don’t read this out loud to them on Christmas Eve.

Because of my nose and a few other obvious differences I was made fun of. Things like that happen but that didn’t make it any less hurtful. They didn’t even let me play in their reindeer games. Like Monopoly. I was left out, ostracized by the very deer that I hoped to make my friends. There was nowhere to turn. I had never felt more alone in my life. But things were about to change.

It was a foggy Christmas eve and I heard Santa calling me.

“Rudolph” he called.

My name isn’t Rudolph but I was okay with that. I mean, it hurts that Santa can’t remember my name, but I was alright with it. For the most part. Well, I learned to deal with it. I put on my happy face.

“Rudolph with your nose so bright” He continued, “Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight!”

I jumped to attention.

“Ohh yess, Santa, Yes. I will guide your sleigh tonight. I will guide your sleigh like it’s never been guided before. Give me that sleigh, Santa. Give it to me”

I stood there and waited as the jolly old elf, well, Lets just say, the chimney, he rose. Then he decided to speak.

“Damn girl. I wasn’t talkin ’bout all that now.”

The truth about Santa is that he is not a fat old white guy. He’s really a short skinny gangsta. Possibly from Atlanta but he doesn’t talk much about his old ‘hood. It was traumatic for him.

Now, a lot happened that foggy night and I am legally bound by my reindeer contract not to tell the whole story. They have their version of events and it’s a good version. So, lets just say that by the time I was finished, all the reindeer loved me. I mean, they really loved me. And I loved them too because I love peppermint. I really, really love peppermint. I ate peppermint sticks all night while they shouted out with glee.

Now, as fate would have it, I have gone down in history. But I don’t get any credit for it because Santa doesn’t even remember my name. It’s a sad life I live, but I’ll be fine. Just keep that peppermint coming.

[By the second post Miss Brandie added an About Me section to her blog. And for the record, this is Miss Brandie's post and not necessarily my opinions]

About Me

Miss Brandie
United States

I am an old woman that realized people are as stupid now a days as they were when I was young. I am out here on what they call on-line trying to straighten you people out.

November 29, 2006

Telling You About Sex

Dear Reader,

I was going to tell you about profanity today but I’m not. I was talking to my daughter, the one who married into that white trash family, and she told me to go for sex. If you want people to read your blog then you got to write about sex. I want people to read my blog so I’m telling you about sex.

It’s fine. Ain’t nothing wrong with getting yourself some sex when you’re in the mood. Every single person walking around on this earth has been made from two people having sex. Unless of course you are one of those test tube babies. Then you were made from your father having sex with a container. There isn’t a thing wrong with that either.

I am not that Sue Johansen woman from Canada that I watch on the TV. I like watching that show. It has some good information about sex. Mr. Brandie doesn’t like it as much. He swears that if I don’t turn it off he’s going to have problems that all the Viagra in the world won’t fix. Mr. Brandie doesn’t joke around about his Mr. Johnson. I change the channel as soon as I see him wake up. If I was Sue Johansen I could give you some good advice. Since I’m not, I’m just going to tell you a few things that everyone should know but I don’t think you do.

Now we all know you should wait until you’re married to have sex. I think that’s a good idea. But if you don’t for goodness sakes be safe about it. There is no shame in protecting yourself. What’s a shame is young people out there catching diseases and having babies when all they needed was a rubber to protect them. You can buy those at the drug store and I even saw them at Wal-Mart. They were over by the weight loss products.

I waited until I was married and my first child, the rich one, was born two months pre-mature seven months after I got married. He was a healthy little bugger. It was a miracle of God. A miracle indeed. But that’s not what I’m talking about. There is no reason to be running around having sex all willy nilly with anybody that happens by. No reason in that at all. There are nasty things out there and you don’t want to catch any of them. Have a little respect for yourself. That’s what it boils down to.

There is too much sex on TV. I watch the MTV channel sometimes and I just don’t know what to do about it. I watch the MTV then I switch over to the preaching channel. After I pray a bit, I switch back to MTV. I’ve about worn out the button on my remote. If you want to watch that sex stuff that’s your right and there is nothing wrong with it. But I suggest you round everything out with some preaching. It never hurts to be safe.

To finish up I’ll tell you that sex is good, masturbation is fine, have respect for yourself, be safe, and don’t do anything that will harm another person. If you just follow those guidelines you won’t be having problems with sex. Thank you for stopping by. It was a pleasure to have you. Please come and see me again next week when I think I’ll be talking about profanity.

Sincerely,
Miss Brandie

When the girls were little they slept in the same bedroom. The other bedroom was used as a play room. Every once in awhile the playroom would become over run with toys and, with their help, either MyHusband or Myself would go in and sort through the disaster and find toys to donate to Goodwill or The Salvation Army.

It was an easy process of sorting through the toys. I’d hold up a toy and say keep or give. And either one or both of the girls would say keep. Then they would go into a five minute speech on why this particular Polly doll with a broken leg was the most special Polly doll. Eventually we’d get a few toys to donate and when they went to bed MyHusband would find a few more to donate. They never missed them.

They’re getting older now and they have their own rooms. Their toys now are smaller and fewer and we don’t have as many issues. I was going to do the Pre-Christmas sort and toss today but there was no need. So instead, I fixed an almond butter and jelly sandwich, poured a glass of milk and started thinking about the good ‘ole days. That’s when I remembered this.

I think they were about 3 and 5yo and their room was a complete disaster. After the obligatory ‘children who don’t have much and would appreciate the donations’ speech, I gave each of them a basket and told them to go in the playroom and fill the basket with toys to donate. A few minutes later they both came out lugging a full basket of toys to donate. My heart filled with pride and my eyes got a little watery. What wonderful, generous, thoughtful children I had! I ran over and hugged them both. Thats when oldest looked into Youngest’s basket. Then Youngest looked in Oldest’s basket. At the exact same time they both yelled, “Hey! Those are MY toys”

I sent them back in with instructions to only donate their own toys. I think I may have also had a large glass of wine. They eventually came back out with a few things to donate. I guess you take what you can get.

So last month everyone was thankful.  I was too but I didn’t post about it. I say, screw all this being thankful stuff.  Yeah, we’re all thankful for lots of stuff but that’s kinda boring.  Let’s talk about things you hate. You know, the things that drive you crazy for no reason other than because they do. The things that make you see red. That’s way more fun and interesting.

Here’s my list:

1. People sending me stupid ass gifts on Facebook. I don’t need a BFF virtual flower bouquet. I don’t even know why my uncle thinks he’s my BFF. Or for that matter, if he even knows what a BFF is. That’s just creepy.

2. Freakin English boy choir music. MyHusband, must you play that every freakin’ year at Christmas time? I hate that crap. It makes the hair on the back of neck stand on end. Not in a good way. I’d rather listen to nails on a chalk board. I’d rather eat raw hamburger. I’d rather read Sara Pallins book. I’m not joking!

3. When the librarian decided to comment on every book I am checking out. Shesh lady, I know it’s good book. I wasn’t checking it out because I thought it sucked. And really are there any bad books, or just bad writers? Think about it.

4. When people call me to tell me about what they bought at the grocery store. Or what they fixed for dinner. Or about their pet hamsters bowel movements. I don’t care and it pisses me off.

5. People that tweet the same exact thing over and over again on Twitter. Dude, I got it the first time and I wasn’t impressed. No need to tweet it sixteen more times. I’m not gonna get more impressed.

6. Teachers that don’t say thank you for a gift. I don’t expect a handwritten note on fine stationary but you need to say thank you. That pisses me off and you won’t be getting anything from me again. When the other teachers get a gift and you don’t, you can go complain about how parents don’t support you.

7. Idiots. Specifically, idiots that complain that the neighbor’s garden hose burst and is flooding their back yard but don’t have enough sense to climb the fence and turn the spigot off. Duhh! Do I have to do everything for you people!

8. Those stupid tiny sample floss packs you get from the dentist. What a waste.

9. Shaving my freakin legs. Why, oh why did I get dark hair and light skin? Why?!

10. People complaining about all the things they hate…Umm, wait. Nevermind.

So, tell me something you hate. Or dislike. Or just want to tell someone about. C’mon, you’ll feel better.

As part of my end of the year simplify my life plan. (I just made that up) I’ve decided to move posts from my other blogs here.  There’s really no reason to have so many accounts and e-mails.  I’m starting with Miss Brandie. 

Miss Brandie was a 80-90 yo southern woman.  I created her in bits and pieces from all the crazy old ladies that I grew up with.  The pieces from most of her stories are true, though they are taken from many different people and put together however the hell I felt like putting them together. 

She never left a comment on another blog, never  joined a single social network, or worried about SEO.  Heck, she didn’t even know about those things. But, in her prime, she had more readers than this blog. I think that makes a point but I’ll let you figure that out for yourself .  Unfortunately, I think Miss Brandie must have died because I haven’t heard from her since July 2007.  So, I closed up her blog and moved on.  What else can you do?

Her blog was call, I’m Telling You and this was her tag line: