Honey, you need to call Obama, right away

So, one of the medications my Mother is on sometimes causes her to blur the lines between reality and well - La La Land.

One day as I arrived at the Hospital, she stated as soon as I walked in:

Mom- Honey, I am so glad you are here! You must call Obama right away, this is very important!

Me- OK, Mommy what's up?

Mom- Well, I have been thinking. You know everything, everyone is always calling you and telling you everything and you know everyone and always know that answers to all the questions that everyone has.

Me (well this is true I DO know everything!) OK, Mom, why do you need me to call Obama?

Mom- Well, every area and family needs to have a person like you and I think he should appoint you to the position, you can be called "National Director of Gossip"

Me- WHAT?!?

Mom- oh yes, very important, that way if there is an emergency, they just call you and you will know the answers!

Me- Oh, OK, National Director of Gossip *how much would that pay*

Mom- well, if you don't like that name, you know Gossip might sound bad they could call you National Busy Body

Me- OK Mom, that's much better, I'll call him tomorrow.

So, as nutty as this sounds, if I think I can tell you exactly where it came from. She has nurses, doctors and rehab specialists coming in and out of her room all day long asking her questions non-stop. She gets confused and frustrated, she just wants them to call me, so I can take care of it, and it is true I do know everything, just ask the HUBS! ha!

New Layout- yipee

So, I found this nifty chart regarding BLOGS....and just in time for my brand new layout! While I love my blog, I am 100% sure my blog falls in the BIG PINK area of the chart. I mean, really where else would it fall, pink is my signature color! Tell me if you like my new layout....I think it is very ME!

I LOVE the Circus!

I have always loved the Circus, and of course many of my fantasies, to this day, involve running off with them, no, not as the FAT lady-smart ass!

Anyway, when my sisters were little girls, before I was born, they lived in Mexico City, and one day went to the Circus with my Dad. Well, the story goes a lady fell off the high wire, there was no NET and she died! I have always been obsessed with this story, can you imagine!?! Thankfully I was not born yet and therefore my love of the Circus was not tainted by the horrifying experience.

However, I came across this newspaper clipping....I almost died when I read it, it's funny, horrible and cartoonish all at the same time!

Not a Glamazon

I am not a Glamazon, I never really was...however I did have some standards:

• pedicures were a must
• I never went out with dirty hair, ever
• I only wore sweatpants in the privacy of my home
• If I was not wearing make up, I would throw on some sunglasses and put some lipstick on

More than once I remember seeing women in the market or the mall who were running around in flip flops with feet that vaguely resembles the wolf man's feet, unkempt and disheveled, and I would wonder to myself: What on earth is wrong with that woman? How can she leave her house like that?

Well people, it's called LIFE, LIFE is what more than likely has happened to those women. I have always been a busy working Mom and wife, however, always found the time to go to the salon, go to get waxed, etc, etc...add just one sick parent to that mix and ever thing flew out the window.

Saturday's was my Mom's nurses aide's day off, so I had to be there to help my Dad at 8:00am. I get up at 7am (an ungodly hour for the mother of teenagers, who has been sleeping gin every weekend for years). I pull on some sweat pants, flip flops and one of my husbands t-shirts, quickly shove a load of laundry in the machine and push start (thank goodness for the quick cycle) I run out the door to walk the dog. Back with the Dog, give her food and water, move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, and stuff a second load into the machine. Make coffee and grab and English muffin, my phone rings, my Dad needs me to pick something up on the way. Not time to shower, shove some clean clothes into a bag and assume I will take a shower at my parents a little later, which actully never happened.

As I am running around in WalMart, dirty hair, no make up, un-bathed, no bra, I look down at my feet and in a moment of horror I gasp...*ahhh* I'm that woman! I want to sit on the floor of WalMart and cry as I look at my toes, they look like 3rd world country homeless people feet (OK, that might be a tad of an exaggeration, but they are bad)

Instead I grab the generic size small adult diapers and run for the cash register, no time to sit and cry.