The agony of it all...

SO one of the distinct non-pleasures I have to deal with in moving to yet another new state is, of course, the DMV. (yes, please... I WOULD like lemon juice in my saline this morning!)

North Carolina has a nifty rule that anyone coming into the state must take the written test. (can someone just please pull my figernails off now???)

I should be studying... (if I could only stay awake to read more than 3 pages at a time)

As soon as Rhena wakes up, we're going to venture over there and just get it over with. (sure, I'd like a brazilian bikini wax for the very first time!)


________


In the meantime, don't forget to venture over to the Match-up and vote.... we've got the original Don going against the Kingpin of Squeak this week!


ok--- off I go.... wish me luck!

Monday's Match-up; 3-21

ok--- enough of that sad stuff--- let's get this party started!!!


In honor of my rapidly approaching vacation to Disney, I've decided to pair up two beloved characters to see who would really end up holding the keys to the Kingdom.

Ladies and Gentlemen--- I give you, for the cartoon-weight championship of this blog.....

DONALD DUCK vs MICKEY MOUSE !!!!!!

Is Donald sick of being the number two man to a mouse? What DOES he do with all of his time when not on camera??? Will his easily aggravated temper turn him into Fists of Feathery Fury??

Can the world's most famous mouse charm his way to a decision? Certainly along the way in his long career he's played a boxer??? Will his high-pitched squeaky voice send the Don away quacking for mercy???


You know I'm going to see if I can get the two to duke it out in person next week.... but in case Disney has a no-fighting rule, I'll let you guys be the judge.


DING DING. ..... let the fight begin!

Contending Thoughts

ok, gang---


it's another week, so as promised, I have a new set of contenders.

Before we get into the match-up, though.... I will say that I watched the Contender last night. and, true to form... I was emotionally hit when I found out that the guy who lost the match last night is no longer among the living. He had an adorable daughter, and I immediately was overwhelmed with sadness that this baby girl would grow up without a daddy.

My sadness soon turned to sickness, though. Troy and I looked up the guy online, and sure enough... he committed suicide. My sickness and empathy turned to a roaring anger as I layed my own little innocent baby in her crib. I'm furious at the idea of Rhena being denied growing up with her father, but perhaps if this man was so selfish he needed to take his own life then maybe his girl is better without him.

I don't want to get into a philosophical debate about whether or not suicide is justified..... I imagine that there's a large population of folks out there that have either known someone who has committed suicide or possibly entertained the idea themselves. I do not intend to belittle the gravity of the problems and or depression that pushes a person to take their own life....

I just think that suicide is a cop-out, and rather than 'solving' the problems of one individual, it creates even more for the survivors. But then again, I also can't imagine not finding one single thing to find worth living for.

Bottom line... With suicide, it's sad, and I really don't think anyone wins. Unlike this week's match-up. There will definitely be a winner.

Dear Telemarketers,

I'm writing this letter as a general observation-slash-complaint-slash-what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you-people to my "friends" who work for telemarketers.


First off--- Do you have families? Assuming you DO, and you were not spawned from some pod off the coast of Long Island, again--- assuming you DO have or at the very least COME from a family, I'm going to garner a guess that you have at least once in your life shared a meal with them.

Now I agree that not all families carry the Brady or Cleaver genre, but I'm going to tell you that even if YOU don't like your family enough to share dinner with them, catching up on the day's events.... I DO. and your call is disrupting some quality time. KNOCK IT OFF! I DON'T WANT TO BE CALLED AT 6 PM WHEN MY HUSBAND IS GETTING HOME FROM WORK AND I'M TRYING TO FINISH COOKING DINNER!!!! I WANT TO SIT DOWN WITH HIM AND FUCKING ENJOY A MEAL WITHOUT DISRUPTION, DO YOU HEAR ME?????


I digress.

And to you, my dear telemarketers, I ask you.... Do you have Children? If you do... are they babies? If you don't have children.... I'll get to you later. But if you DO have children who are not babies, I'm going to assume that at one point they WERE, and take it one step further to assume that at some point in the first year or two of their life, you made a flailing attempt to get said baby to FALL ASLEEP. (if you never put your child to bed, I will take this time to call you a heartless bastard, and you deserve to be tossed in a pod off the coast of Long Island)

SO--- (again--- you childless people excluded) KNOWING what a difficult task it is to get a baby to go to sleep, I'm going to tell you that your calls between the hours of 7 and 8pm keep waking my daughter up and piss her off royally. KNOCK IT OFF!!!! I DON'T WANT TO BE CALLED BETWEEN 7 AND 8PM BECAUSE I'M TRYING TO GET MY DAUGHTER TO FALL ASLEEP!!!! I'VE BEEN WITH HER ALL DAY, SHE'S BEEN A PILL, AND MOMMY NEEDS SOME TIME TO HERSELF!!! YOUR CALLS KEEP WAKING HER UP AND MAKING HER SCREAM AND CRY WHICH THEN TAKES EVEN LONGER FOR HER TO CALM DOWN AND FINALLY GO TO SLEEP, DO YOU HEAR ME????????

To the childless people.... call my house again, and I will wish quadruplets and a never ending stream of late-night phone calls on your ass. Don't mess with me people... I know gypsies, and I'll really do it.


And to you swell folks at whatever timeshare you're trying to promote who call and ask for the decision maker of the house..... KNOCK IT OFF!!!! IF YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME AND DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO MAKES THE DECISIONS IN OUR HOUSE, THEN WHY IN HELL ARE YOU CALLING US??????? YOU PEOPLE ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF ME, DO YOU HEAR ME?????

Look, folks--- it's real simple.

Stop calling me.

We as Americans are inundated every day by endless forms of advertisement. it's in the papers and magazines we read, on billboards on our roads, on our radios, on our televisions, it comes in the mail, both snail and electronic, and even my five types of pop-up blockers can't filter out them all. Is nothing sacred?


I realize that you need a job, and I respect that you're trying to make money to support your livelihood and perhaps even support a family. But drug dealers are just trying to make a buck, too, and nobody's forcing me to like them.

Well, I could go on and on, but ironically, my phone just rang and woke Rhena up. It was an 800 number, and of course, the gentleman was looking for some other family. At least this one apologized. That's nice, but I'd rather he offered to babysit, or put Rhena back to sleep.

And the Winner is-----

well--- despite starting off strong, Bono got his musically talented ass handed to him.

With a total of FIVE unique* votes to THREE.... I declare St Pat the winner.

* I say unique cause the comments section was screwy and there were a number of double posts. I tried to go back and delete the extras, but was also having problems with that... arrrg.


Anyways--- thanks to those who participated. The comments ranged from beefy to beef-cake, and had chuckles and head-scratching to spare. If you voted for Bono--- sorry. ---St Pat just got more votes! ....not that it matters in the end, cause folks will still like who they like. ... I *did* have fun pasting St. Pat's head on the Champ's body, though!!


I'll bring another match-up on Monday... I'll use the weekend to think of who I want in the next showdown.

Til then.... have a great friday, and nurse those hangovers!!!!!

Erin Go Buy a New Bra!!!

hey gang, and a happy St. Patty's day to ya!!!!!

Well, it's a fabulous day for those Irish and those who wish they were. I mean... even this crappy weather we have today can't dampen my spirits! Granted, this St Patty's day won't be celebrated with the gusto and verve of Pat's Days past..... (to which my liver is beyond grateful!)

But regardless of the amount of spirits Rhena will make me avoid consuming this year, I'm still warm and fuzzy. After all--- my mom was a Murphy before accepting the Czernikowski title..... so I know for sure I've got me some green blood.


So to my fellow Murphys ( and O'Connors, and O'Rileys, etc etc) out there... I understand your passion. For the easily sun-burned skin, for the freckles, for the endless meals of potatoes.... damnit... we deserve a day to drink and celebrate!!! At what point the day stopped being about the lack of snakes and more about pinching, drinking, and all things green, I'll never know. I know I'm personally glad for today's version of the holiday----- somehow hanging with your friends chanting "no more snakes!!!" isn't as appealing as crooning to "Danny Boy" while pounding down some Guinness and Jameson's at your local Fado's or Kell's Irish Pub.

But to the posers.... and you know who you are----- We forgive you and accept you none the less. I'd say I don't understand why so many people who have absolutely NO TIES to the motherland insist on wearing green and drinking their faces off, but I myself have been known to drink a Negro Modelo or four on Cinco de Mayo... and I sure as hell ain't Mexican.

I mean, let's face it--- everybody loves a good party, and we Irish know how to throw down. What other time can you sheepishly go to a bar the next afternoon to retrieve your forgotten credit card (and subsequent $127 bar tab) and be congratulated for a noble attempt????

Yes..... party we can. Some people may disagree with my pride in being able to drink, but I think that's where you can tell the difference between us real Irish folk and the band-wagoners. You got to admit it's a hell of a better way to spend your time than those silly Norweigans playing with flying lawnmowers. but I digress.

The fight is still on for the St. Patty's Day showdown... don't forget to cast your vote!

Well----- my little lass is a' callin... so I leave you with this.

May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back,

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rain fall soft upon your fields,

and until we meet again,

May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

Contend This!

so..... I've been watching the newest batch of not-so-reality TV, and I'll admit I've been hooked on the contender.

It's a decent enough show... kinda like boxing-lite, since the matches are only 5 rounds, and you're only getting about a minute, highly edited version of the round.


but it's had me thinking, and now that I have connection to the internet again--- I'm going to institute a new segment to the Cze-Johnson site.


Each week, I'm going to offer up two figures... some real, some imaginary--- some alive, some dead.... and I'm going to allow you, my dear readers... to be the judge of who would kick who's ass.

Based on the comments received, we'll crown a winner each week.

So as my first offertory for a match-up, and considering that tomorrow is St. Patty's Day.... I feel it's only appropriate that our contenders represent a corner of the ole Blarney Stone.

So this week--- I give you:

St. Patrick vs Bono


I personally feel this will be a tough match---- While Bono has been awarded Esquire's "best Front Man" and has recently been named to the rock and roll hall of fame with his mates in U2.... St. Patrick is.... well, a SAINT..... AND has a holiday named for him.

SO... I'll let you be the judge. cast your vote, feeling free to give as much or as little justification you deem necessary.

Ordinarily I'll give y'all a week to stew on it, but since it's already wednesday.... I give you today and tomorrow to vote. Winner will be announced, and appropriately crowned on Friday.

So DING DING--- let the fight begin!

together again....

so I'm thinking life has some bad plot which has been formulated especially to keep me UNCONNECTED to the web......


but I'm back, I have the laptop in the house again, and by george--- we're connected to the internet.


more to post later---- I have a screaming child to tend to and rhena seems pissed off too.

I have Issues.... part 742

ok--- the title might be *slightly* misleading, as I sure as hell don't have 742 posts yet... but nonetheless.... issues I have a' plenty.


so here I was, all caught up in the fervor of my new kitchen... which I absolutely freaking LOVE, by the way....

so I'm baking.... and I realize that I'm coming down with a case of OCD.... that's right... OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE DISORDER.

I am to a bottle of windex what a fish is to water.

must.... make..... kitchen aid.... shiny!

again... I repeat.... I have issues.


I could try to justify it by saying how the kitchen is new, and I want to keep it nice and clean, yadda yadda.... but I find myself thinking about the kitchen when I'm in another room.


I dream of dinner parties where I'm the host, and people enjoy the food so much they feel they should invite me over for a sampling of their cuisine. But the shit is--- I DON'T WANT TO HAVE OTHER PEOPLE COOK FOR ME!!!

(least of all, the scrapbooker, as I've had her kitchen fare, and let's just say chef boy r dee has more flavor.... but I digress....)

I hear about recipes that are just SO GREAT!!! and I'm like.... yeah---- how can I make it better????


Have I missed my calling??? should I have been attending culinary school instead of wasting all those years in aircraft engineering??? I can definitely see daily applications of something like a degree in the culinary arts.... and hard as I try... I have yet to find practical applications for differential equations in my new life as a stay at home mom.

But me as a chef??? it's all a crock... it's not like I'm that good of a cook.... and with all my stomach issues.... I can't eat any seafood, and if we had a semester on beef, I'd have to take time out from class to get my stomach pumped so I didn't shit all over myself.

but I love my kitchen, and moreso... I love cooking in my new kitchen. I'll admit that once, just once... it would be fun to have all the cameras set up and film me a la Rachel Ray..... but then I would just find myself doing annoying things like saying "E.V.O.O." and "YUM!"

I'll also admit that I'm happy my girl Martha is out.... now THAT bitch can cook! I have nothing but respect for the lady--- I mean... While Rachel Ray can cook, I still think I could take her out in an alley. Now with Martha--- after time in camp cupcake... let's just say I'd be scared if I used the wrong fork with HER in a dark alley!

but enough of my babble--- the dishwasher cycle is over, and I've got a hankerin' to clean.

How Pathetic am I???

ok--- so not sure if anyone has noticed or not, but about a month ago or so, I put one of those little counter thingies in my side column.


this little number gives such hope to a blogger like me.... while I fully realize that it's not an accurate depiction of how many hits a day I get on this site (go on--- hit refresh... see how the number went up?) but the fact remains is that the number actually DOES go up....

that means, in some random force in the universe, someone is finding my site. I also would like to mention that I'm aware that the majority of my hits are from the few folks that regularly read my incessant ramblings.... you guys are the bomb-diggity, by the way....


so for the regulars---- God Bless Ya. If you stumbled across here by ways of a random hit, or scoping out my site from a comment I left somewhere else... I appreciate you swinging by.


so anyways... this happy heartfelt shit is not the purpose of my blog. what I'm acutely aware of today is just how much of a nobody I really am.

...So the stats thingy--- it also shows me on my log-in page what they consider to be my ranking, both in my category of entertainment, and overall. (Mind you, this is just within the community of peeps using the tracker thingy.... in the even wider world of blogging (non-stat-trackers-included) I'm infinitesimally smaller)

so out of curiosity... I checked out my ranking today. I am ranked 3028 (out of what appears to be 20350 participating sites) which may not sound too bad at first glance. Upon further inspection, however, I find that I'm only slightly better ranked than the following blogs (descriptions in italics)

"All About Computers And The Internet"
A site all about computers and the internet. This site also has forums that you can use and some very fun games.

"Basel Childbirth Trust"
The Basel Childbirth Trust offers information and support for pregnancy, birth and parenthood to enable all parents to make informed choices.

"vom Blaurasen Rottweilers"
Located in Northern Kentucky. Code of Ethics Breeders. German Bloodlines. We follow the FCI standard. Our goal is to acquire and produce dogs that are of excellent type, sound temperament, willingness to work and are of correct structure.

"Western Nebraska Regional Airport"
western nebraska regional airport providing passenger flights to and from scottsbluff nebraska

____________

It's nice to know my site is more popular than the site that gives 3 people in Nebraska information a week.

but again... I grab hold of my Queen of the Pathetic title when I see that the Hillsdale County Agricultural Society still has me beat. those bastards!

oh well---- on the bright side.... at least this still gives me time to think about who I want to portray me when someone finally makes the movie about my life.

My daughter, the dinosaur

ok--- so it has been creeping in on my mind lately that Rhena may grow up to have the body of a dinosaur.

not just ANY dinosaur.... I'm thinking a t-rex.


why? well, because I'm convinced she'll never develop her arm muscles. and her insatiable urge to growl when awake.

let's face it--- she's got the stomping thing down pat... she eats LIKE a carnivore... and well--- minus the fierce teeth... I think she could really pull it off.

this occurred to me especially the other day when I put her on her stomach (which she HATES, by the way) and I watched her attempt to move. I'd say crawl, but legs flailing, arms helplessly doing nothing doesn't quite fit the bill for a crawl.

so here she was, kickin' and a' screamin'.... and she actually ended up pushing herself forward a little. again... no arms, here--- just legs pushing her stump of an upper body forward. so I thought--- what if she NEVER learns to use her arms??? what if she ends up like the T-rex... stomping around yelling and biting things, stomping and thrashing, but can't do shit with her arms????


I agree there could be worse dinosaurs to end up like.... I mean... a brontosaurus would suck. big ass body with a long neck and small head??? nah--- we'll pass on that, thanks. and I'm mentally going through the cast of Jurassic Park to see if I recall any other extinctos that I wouldn't mind Rhena modeling, and the pickings are slim. so I mean... sure.... T-rex isn't SO BAD..... "she's a bad mama-jama" could be her theme song.....

but the arms..... gotta do something about those arms!

I reckon I never did done see....

well--- we've been here about a week and a half, and things are starting to fall into place.

the count-down to disney is less than a month, and tickets have been purchased. (thank you, Jhonny!!!)

I'm starting to really like my new digs. This town is so freaking cute, I could pinch it! I mean, sure, it's still the south and all, but the appearance of this town is really adorable. It's got the majority of the amenities your normal civilized town has (restaurants, target, food stores, gas stations, etc) but it's GREEN here!!! Perhaps I've been jaded by the over-exposure of brown in nevada and abundance of grey in jersey when I was there, but I can't stop noticing how green it is here. Now if we could just shake this cold bullshit weather and get back to the 70's we had my first week here.....

but let's see---- what else have I noticed?


oh--- HERE'S some funny shit....


I took the monster to a pediatrician to see if that's who we're going to go with. The doctor was cute.... I kinda wanted to beat her up... skinny, pregnant, and wearing makeup. she was cute. repeat... I wanted to beat her up. but I digress....

in the office, one of the nurses showed us to a room. Talk about someone you don't want to meet for the first time while on a jack daniels bender.... She was Asian, but had the DEEPEST southern drawl. It took everything in me not to break out in a chorus of "one of these things is not like the other". But she was cute, too..... freaked me out a little, but she was cute. She would have gotten a pinch, and an invite for some pouruk frahhed rise so I could hear her accent more.... but I got distracted.


saw another thing in target that reminded me of my drinking days (insert wistful sigh here) and also reminded me that I still don't feel like a mom yet. SO I was in target, looking at these CUTE little cans of diet coke. I know, I know... I can't get off the word cute..... I'll be better by the next entry, I swear.

anyways... so here are these little half-cans of coke.... so jumping into my new role of friendly, hospitable southern gal... I make a comment to another woman in the isle about how adorable and perfect the cans were.

her reply - " Ah knowuh! what a great ah-deah"

me- "I'll have to pick them up for our next party... what perfect little mixers!" (thinking of my new kitchen and how my biggest pet peeve during parties is all the half-used soda cans cause all of my alcoholic friends only want a splash of something to tame their spirits)

her- "Ah was thinking mower for mah kids and theyur lunches, cause you knowuh they never finish a whole cayan!"

me- "oh, right! um, yeah! ok, buh-bye!"


dude. AM I EVER going to feel like a mom??????


I suppose it's inevitable.... maybe once the little booger starts talking? I dunno. But I DO enjoy having her around. she's fun.... well, except when she's screaming bloody murder cause the day ends in 'Y'.... but I'll definitely keep her. So she's sitting up now..... she can go for about 15 minutes now before she wobbles over... and each day seems to get longer and longer. (her sitting up time, that is... not the days. though I suppose there are some days that do feel longer... but again I digress) --- her favorite toys are my slippers and paper towels. but this is also a kid who enjoys pissing on herself every time she's naked.... so take what I say with a grain of salt.

oh well--- speaking of salt.... I'm craving some. Potato chips for breakfast isn't bad is it??? not far off from really over-done hashbrowns, right? ....Well, I suppose when you're in a land that it's perfectly acceptable to put grey chunky gravy over biscuits.... anything goes.