just some blurbs

I got word today that Mr. Snort has decided to leave me. Again. And the boys. Yes, he has chosen to go on another business trip. My new but not new but still kinda new season as a single parent will begin sometime later this week. To show my displeasure I am…well….I don’t know yet what I’m going to do, but trust me. It will be big. Oh yes. And game changing to boot.

Summertime is swimmingly along smashingly right now. The rainy season has arrived in the desert. Crawling out of the holes come the snakes and scorpions with lots of flash flooding. Glad are we too for the thunder and lightning to hear and see with ears and eyes wide open. Brilliant, loud claps of thunder abound in our ears as Mother Nature urinates her rain down upon us.

Footlong is enjoying his academic day camp. This session, as there are two, he is studying baking, puppetry, and participating in a class to ready youngsters for entry into the first grade. I am sure the teacher is relying heavily on him to support her weak syllabus by teaching some because he is so brilliant. Some disposable income was ours this past week, and Footlong asked for a new Bakugan. I love that lil’ rascal and his imagination, so I ran out and bought him a vintage TI-82 scientific calculator. Graphing sin and cos and tan right now is he! He has also taken it upon himself to learn the national anthem of Bhutan, and yester night he built an espresso machine out of an old clothes hamper, 3 diapers, a loofah, a gross of Lego bricks, a vegetable peeler, and 2 coffee filters.

6-inch continues to disappoint us regularly with his failures to invent things, speak in full sentences, and use the toilet. I keep telling him, “Son! My babe! You will be a year old at the end of the month! It is time to get your shit together and fly from my nest!” He looked at me and farted. Which then gave him the giggles. I don’t cuss, except for when I do, but if I did, which I will, this little asshat needs to get his shit together. I approached him today with a meal of herb crusted rack of lamb, roasted brussels sprouts, toasted orzo with garlic foam, and purple carrot puree, and that child had the fucking audacity to reach for a bottle of milk. “HELLO!?!?  What about me?” I yelled at him. “I spent 4 hours making you lunch! I realize you only have 6 teeth, but you need to eat and not further soil your taste buds on milk!” He looked at me and giggled and said, “La la la!” Why me?

I have decided that since I am such an awesome wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, humanitarian, chef, marketing executive, movie director, Indy car driver, Native American shaman, and astronaut that I am going to teach some classes soon. I’m not sure what I’ll teach, but you really need to take the classes. Trust me. I’ll turn you from a magnificent person into a more magnificenterly person.

I’m off to imbibe a double vodka martini….er…..raw egg/seed/nut/lard smoothie. Yummers.

We’ll gab again in the near future!


This is a really shitty work of fiction. Footlong is an average child. 6-inch ia a cute, sweet, happy baby whom I love just as much as his big brother. I am mad that J is going out of town again. For fucks sake, I didn’t sign on for this shit.If you can read this then your eyesight is just fine.


29 thoughts on “just some blurbs

  1. Dammit. This day just keeps getting worse. And I LOL at your hubby and the cheese! I think you and I should write some funny questions, interview our respective hubs, and post the answers online. How effin hysterical would that be?!?

  2. Just an FYI I did sign up for this..knew he was in the military and it still (going to cuss now be warned) fucking sucks donkey balls. It fucking sucks to hear that he's out whoring it up (as I call it) at the bars, eating good food, and sleeping in a hotel room where someone picks up after his ass. He always bitches about the travel, etc but I think he's lying. He loves to get out of the house away from the fiasco that is our family. (Said with love). Nevermind that I'm the one that makes this ship sail and if I were to leave on vacation for a week (to stay at my Mom's sans kids) he wouldn't know what to fucking do and you know that the damn dishes WOULD NEVER GET FUCKING DONE.And yes resentment and being a military spouse go hand in fucking hand. And it fucking sucks and there's not a god damned thing I can do about it. I have to go now I have to work at 6am, get a car to the dealership, drop off 2 kids at daycamp, do 2 conference calls, finish some laundry, pick up the damn kids, and then take the damn kids to one kid's damn therapy. His comment, "I won't hit the airport until 4:30, get my luggage and head down and I'm sorry I won't be able to help you out".Sure asshat. WTF ever.But I do love him and he does provide for us but resentment..hand in hand with a military life. If I could figure out what to do with it…that's my dilemma and I haven't quite figured that out yet. And is it resentment or jealousy? Now there's a ? for ya.-justalurker

  3. This post was just what I needed this morning. I wont create a love triangle and declare my love for you too but I am in deep like!Hope you have a good week, sorry to hear your hubby left you again!

  4. Yeah I think I need double vodka martini this morning. Ha I wish Mother Nature would urinate here a lot LOL. You crack me up Carmen. It sucks golf balls that J is going out of town again. I know if it was Chris. There would be a big payback in his future.

  5. "Glad are we too for the thunder and lightning to hear and see with ears and eyes wide open."Oh my lord that is too funny.I think I will take the astronaut classes when you get them going. I can probably scrape up the money. ;)Sandi

  6. We are sitting today hunkered under a unicorn shaped cloud in the PNW. So happy that mother nature has moved her urinating needs to your neck of this big wide tundra, also known as North America. I love spending my days sitting on the deck, gazing at the lake, and watching my skin turn a beautiful shade of golden raisin. Have I mentioned that I have beautiful feet. And toes. And feet.–Mari

  7. Well, with J and this business trip, the company president told him today he is leaving Thursday and he isn't coming back "until the problem is solved." I am ill, but J is a great provider, husband, and father. He is just doing his job. I really wish we could get together for a double martini, Rochelle! Maybe next year when I make it home I'll give you and Chris a yell, and we'll make it happen!

  8. Damn, justalurker. After reading about the life of a military wife I think I should withdraw my bitching about J leaving. I'm sorry, kiddo. I have some friends that are in the military or are military spouses, and the spouses seem to share your sentiments. I wish we were both in Tucson so we could chat over a glass of wine whilst our kids played.

  9. Hahaha. These posts always remind me of what happens when people write something in a foreign language and then translate it to English using a free, online translator. So funny. Your blog always makes me laugh.

  10. Dear Nurse Snort,Noticed this comment from you on MWOP:"The nurse formerly known as Snort, RN would like to tell you if you ever have an episode that is accompianed by chest pain, shortness of breath, nausea, or you feel like you are going to pass out then you need to call 911 immediately."Care to elaborate? I ask b/c I have SVT as well, and although it is now controlled w/o meds after a long, long time, I had an episode of something while sitting in the chair at my salon about four weeks ago and it was way weird. I was just sitting there and all of a sudden I felt what could only be described as a switch being flipped in my chest and I quietly began to panic. My heart began racing, I got lightheaded, felt nauseated and had this impending feeling of doom so often felt with SVT episodes. They finally took me back to the spa so I could lay down and do some vagals. I didn't have my fast-acting Verapamil with me, but between the vagals, Sprite and laying down for about 45 min., I was fine to drive to the pharmacy and get my med refilled. I was exhausted, but other than that, I ended up being fine. The only thing I can think of that was wonky leading up to this episode was that I had been up for 24 hours straight and hadn't eaten a thing since the night before (it was about 3 in the afternoon). It wasn't a low sugar feeling, more like someone let the horse out of the gate in my chest and I panicked. My cardiologist said it sounds like I panicked and had an adrenaline surge, hence the "switch" feeling in my chest. He admonished me for not going directly to the ER. He said there are some young people that can actally have Vtach episodes w/o knowing it and suggested that we get me set up to see an Electrophysiologist soon. I go next Tuesday. Sorry for the damn diary entry. It's just that I had most of the symptoms you suggested and I did NOT go to the ER (but should have). If you'd like, I'll pass along my address so you can bill me for a sick visit.Thanks, Snort!

  11. With SVT or any other rapid heart rate, like Vtach or rapid atrial fibrillation, your heart is beating so fast it cannot fill with as much blood as it normally would at rest; as a result the heart pumps less blood to your body and your blood pressure can drop. This is called decreased cardiac output, and the most common symptoms are lightheadedness, fainting, nausea, and sometimes chest pain. I am not trying to make you fearful or panicky, but I wholeheartedly agree with your cardiologist in getting evaluated to see if you have episodes of Vtach. Vtach is more dangerous and unpredictable, and with Vtach (again, not trying to scare you) you run the real risk of falling into Vfib (heart stops beating and quivers like jello; you need immediate CPR and defibrillation). If you feel panicky again during such an episode or feel faint, nauseated, or a feeling of doom, get your butt to the ER and tell them the nurse formerly known as Snort, RN sent you! The funny thing about not being a nurse anymore is that I still have all of this damn knowledge and experience! I honestly don't mind answering any of your questions! Please deposit 1,000,000 US dollars into my paypal account 😀

  12. To my anonymous, SVT friend….got your message, and your wish is my command. Sorry. Was half awake this am when I approved comments. Shall I put money in your paypal account?

  13. Nurse Snort,Completely understand. The Snort Family needs its sleep. And no need to pay me; you're the nurse! In fact, to show my gratitude, I'm now making you five dozen chia covered nutella and hemp heart turd balls — one for each Paypal account you have opened under the Snort moniker to fool the IRS into thinking you don't have jack. You're welcome. {thanks, friend}

  14. Well, actually, I'm not a nurse anymore in case you didn't read that entry on the blog. All of the stuff I learned in school and my experiences in the ER/ICU still haunt my brain. And thank you for the chia crap balls. I can't wait to see what my poop looks like after I eat them.

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