My voting experience

**NOTE: For this post, my two year old daughter wanted to share her "voting" experience today on Election Day. Enjoy.



Hello. My name is Chloe and today was my first experience going to polls to place my vote. Now, I know what you may be thinking: What the heck does a two year old know about voting or world affairs in general? Well, allow me to elaborate. Even though I am young, I do like to keep up on current events. I may not know what certain terms mean, such as "tax revenue" or "electoral college" or "lipstick on a pitbull", but I've been known to glance through the newspaper and Momma and Dada's Newsweek or Time magazines. To be honest, my political knowledge and connections started early. When I was born, my dada was a political science major at Western Illinois University and he would read political books to me as I lived in Momma's womb. When Momma was in the hospital waiting for me to arrive into the world, the television was showing nothing but coverage about President Gerald Ford's passing. Eerily enough, I was born on December 30, 2006--the day Saddam Hussein was hanged. I also attended a couple of Joe Biden Presidential rallies last year, and I even got my picture taken with him! So, truthfully, I've been interested in political affairs before I was even born.

In America, I've learned that there are Republicans and Democrats. Elephants and donkeys. I know and love people who are associated with both parties. One of my grandfathers (who I lovingly call "Pa") is a Republican. In fact, my momma was raised a Republican. As she got older, she felt she related more to Democrats so she's affliliated with them now. My other Pa is Democratic, too, as well as his wife (one of my Grammas) and Dada is too. I think my uncle Pauly is more Green or Independant, and that's okay too. All I know is that it's important to vote and I've been looking forward to November 4th for a long time now (atleast half my life). When I hear Momma say that there was a time in the past when women or men who were not white couldn't vote, I was appalled! So I feel it is very important to have my voice heard, and in sixteen years, I'll be at the polls bright and early. I will do it because of those who years before fought for women's rights and civil rights and because I think that if one does not vote, one cannot complain about the ways of the world if they are not "up to one's standards."

Anyway, today was a good day. My dada is an election judge at one of the precincts here in town and he voted for Obama/Biden on the first day of early voting. He's been really excited this voting season, and I'm proud of him for volunteering to be a judge at the polling place. After Momma and I dropped lunch off to Dada, it was time to go to our precinct to place our vote. I proudly wore my "Little Democrat" T-shirt, which we later found out was a "no-no" when you go to the polls. Evidently, they don't want you to wear buttons, stickers, clothing, etc. that could be considered campaigning paraphernalia. But frankly, I didn't care. I feel that I was exercising my right of freedom of speech. (and honestly, the Democratic election judges liked my shirt). Anyhoo, my first voting experience was wonderful. And I'm sure there are many people out there who think that I just went to the polls in order to get my "I voted electronically" sticker. Although, I must admit that was a major bonus (I LOVE stickers!!), I went to vote for Obama and my old buddy, Joe (since we go way back) and because I wanted to perform my right as an American. Yeah!! Go USA!! Go Obama/Biden '08! :)

Oh Jesus..

Disclaimer: Do not read if you have a weak stomach.

You know, when I was pregnant, I read up on a few pregnancy and parenting books and magazines, just to give me an "idea" of what to expect. I must admit, I didn't read half the material that Floyd did. In fact, there were many times he would jokingly scold me that I should do a little more studying on the baby subject, especially since we were going to be first time parents. It was a great suggestion, since we all know that babies don't arrive into the world with individual instruction manuals. So I read my magazines and books and I felt like a had a decent idea of what to expect.

Boy, was I wrong.

When it comes to having a child, so many things can happen in just a five to seven minute time span in your life. And I don't think those bastards who write material about babies tell you this. One moment, my sweet child is happily drawing on her big pad of paper. Then I catch a whiff of something foul emanating from her diaper. I get up and proclaim, "Chloe, let's change your diaper. Want a new diaper?" So as I walk across the room to her diaper bag, I hear a sound that stops me dead in my tracks. The sound of Velcro. I turn around. "Crap, she's taking off her diaper!!" I say. "Chloe, stop! STOP!!"

Chloe has undone only one side of her diaper and she sprints like a cheetah across the living room until she's cornered between the front door and her angry mommy. She has her hands up on the front door like she's about to be frisked and she's laughing maniacally. I quickly remove her diaper and realize it is a rabbit pebble texture and I try to locate any missing pebbles. Ah, gross..there's three of them on the floor. I..*uuuugggh*..pick them up and pitch them and the diaper in the trash. Then Chloe hands another pebble to me. *Shudder* So, now not only do I have to sanitize my hands, I have to sanitize my daughter's hands as well. (Actually, I'm just glad she didn't eat it.)

Just when I think all is well now and everything and everyone is cleaned up, another sound gets my attention, followed by her notorious catchphrase--"Uh-oh!!" I glance into the living room and sigh. She has dumped an almost full canister of sweet potato puffs onto the floor. It was just opened yesterday. I use one of Floyd's beloved Presidents of the United States placemats and scoop up the hundreds of puffs piled on the floor and return to the garbage.

Calgon, take me away and serve me a White Russian!!!

I am Cornholio!!!

I've never really been a fan of coffee. I love the smell, but hate the taste. My husband likes to stop by Starbucks every now and then, and in the past, I've always decided on hot chocolate. (Boring.) Recently, I've discovered that if I order a Frappucino with a flavor that has chocolate to it, it seems to mask the coffee flavor and I've learned to enjoy coffee drinks. I've found that on occasion, I even find myself craving Starbucks.(Whaaat? A non-coffee lover fiending for that bittersweet caffeinated elixir?) So tonight, about ten minutes to 10, we drove past two Starbucks on the way home. Floyd does a u-turn on University and says, "Let's get a Starbucks.." My face lights up because he read my mind. I order my secret love, a 9,700 calorie grande Mint Mocha Chip Frappucino. MmMMm..chocolate and mint is pure bliss in my opinion. I don't even care if it has that pesky coffee in it. Whether I order that, or my second secret love, a Double Chocolate Chip Frappucino, it doesn't matter. Oh my Jesus, I'm in heaven. And it was good to last drop...unfortunately, I didn't take into account the possibility that drinking this liquid crack late at night would be problematic. What could possibly be the problem?? Well, my conundrum is that it's 3:48 am and I can't fucking sleep!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am wide awake. I went to bed and got under the sheets about 1:15. Floyd was snoozing happily and rather softly while I couldn't shut my mind off. I kept thinking about the most inane things, such as, 'What's Chloe going to be for Halloween? Gee, I hope someone is having a Halloween party..Floyd and I can "dress up" as Peter and Lois from "Family Guy". I wonder if he has any green pants to complete the "costume"? Hmm..maybe I should get up and mop the kitchen floor..I feel like I should finish reading my book before book club on Sunday..'

Damn it, this is so aggravating. Not being a coffee drinker, I didn't think about the caffeine keeping me awake all damn night. I truly feel like I'm the incarnation of Beavis' alter ego, Cornholio...

(UPDATE: Well, I finally did get some shut-eye...after 7 am. Then I said goodbye to Floyd as he left for work around 8ish, and Chloe's crying woke me about 10:30. I feel so well rested. Sigh...)

I wonder if Quentin ever belts out, "Thank You For Being a Friend" from time to time...

So, the other night, Floyd and I were watching "The Golden Girls." Yes, "The Golden Girls." I was a fan of it when it was first on the air, and still love it twenty years later. I can only hope I can emulate Dorothy's sarcastic wit thirty years from now, and be able to deliver Sophia's smartass one-liners fifty years from now.

Anyway, we were watching the first of a two part episode called "Sophia's Wedding," in which Sophia marries her beloved deceased husband Sal's old business partner, Max, whom she hadn't seen in forty years. The side story is Rose and Blanche's Elvis unauthorized fan club, in which they promptly kick Dorothy out of after the first meeting, due to her "offending" all the other members because of her sarcastic wit I'm such a fan of. Rose and Blanche decide to get an Elvis impersonator, in order to spice up the next meeting. Somehow, with Sophia's rapidly approaching nuptials (was a "shotgun" wedding necessary? was there a "bun in the oven"??) and the search for an Elvis impersonator, Rose mixes up the invitations (what a shocker!) , and when it comes time for the wedding, they realize there are atleast twenty Elvises (or is it "Elvii" for the plural form??) in the living room, waiting to witness the union of two octogenarians in holy matrimony.

They all begin to break out into typical Elvis gyrations, and in the back row, Floyd points out one of the "skinny" Elvises and jokingly says, "Heh, heh. There's Quentin Tarantino in the back." Sure enough, it was him. We looked at the credits to make sure. Oh, that crazy Quentin. I guess we all have to start somewhere, even big time directors. I wonder if he still stays in touch with the girls. Maybe they meet once a month for brunch...


On a side note, today is my sweet Chloe's 18 month birthday. Happy year and a half birthday, Chloe Grace!! :o)

Chloe: the Feng Shui expert!

My kid cracks me up. Here I am, checking out forums on the computer with "Spongebob Squarepants" (Chloe's absolute favorite) on the t.v. across the room and what is Chloe doing? She's been behind me for 10 or 15 minutes rearranging the DVD's on the media center. We had DVD's arranged like books on a bookshelf, so the spines are showing. Evidently, the flow of the room is ALL wrong according to Chloe.

When I turn around to see why she's being quiet (always a red flag, if you ask me), she has rearranged about 20 or so DVD's so the cover is front and center. Some DVD's have fallen to the floor, such as "Sixteen Candles", "Blazing Saddles", "Scarface", "Bad Santa" and "Rear Window." What my creative sixteen month old has stacked with the covers on display are such classics as "40 Year Old Virgin", "Apollo 13", "Cool Hand Luke", "The Marx Bros: A Day at the Races", "It's a Wonderful Life". Funnily enough, some movies that she hid behind these film gems are "Stripes", "Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo" and "Making the Grade". I guess she's not really big on silly 80's movies yet. Oh well.

Oh crap, she just ran off into the living room with the "Borat" DVD!...maybe she does have an appreciation for low brow humor after all! ;O)

Nails on a chalkboard

So, the other day, I went through the drive thru of Dairy Queen while my daughter was napping in her carseat when I had a "nails on the chalkboard" moment. (Strangely, when someone slides their nails down a chalkboard, it doesn't bother me. Anyhoo..)

What made me shudder was when I heard the lady in front of me ordering a hot fudge sundae, and she pronounced it "sun-duh". Grrrrr.. I'm shuddering now just thinking of it. I don't know why...perhaps I was a strict English teacher in a former life, but whenever people pronounce certain words differently than how I think they should be pronounced, I shudder in disgust. Call me an English language elitist. I can't help it.

So here are some other words that I find that people commonly mispronounce (especially in the lovely Midwestern area that I live in):

-Wash- When I hear people pronounce it "warsh", I wanna strangle them.

-Creek- I don't care if you grew up with one in your backyard; it's not "crick", it's "creek"...just as it is spelled.

-Missouri-Once again, it's pronounced just as it is spelled, and since there is no "a" at the end, do not pronounce it "Missourah", or I will strangle you.

-Illinois- Here's a tricky one. It looks like it should be pronounced "Illi-noise", because there is an "s" on the end, so you would think you would say it that way, right? No. That sounds stupid. The "s" is silent. Don't make me strangle you.


Well, I know there are several other words that are constantly mispronounced, but I can't think of them right now. These are just the top of my list. The funny thing is that I knew my husband pronounces "wash" as "warsh", which is #1 on my list, before I married him. When he first said "warsh" or "Warshington", I thought "oh no." But as the years go by, the sound of the nails on the chalkboard is getting softer and softer. I guess true love does conquer all. Although, he does want us to move to the capital of the USA...you guessed it folks..good ol' WaRshington, D.C.
Sigh.

I'm rantin' like Rixblix!!!

(Note: This post may be laden with vulgarity and profanity. I usually try to keep the cussing down to a minimum while on the blogosphere. But right now, I don't fucking care.)

Allow me to begin by saying I'm not a huge fan of today's rap. Sure, I enjoy those crazy Beastie Boys every now and then or listening to Floyd as he raps along to his old school NWA or his silly Wu Tang. Even seeing ol' Rosie from "The Wedding Singer" perform Sugarhill's Gang classic song towards the end of the movie is delightful. But other than that, I'm not really big into rap. Yet I listen to it religiously EVERY morning. You may ask, 'Why is that, Jenny???" And I'll tell you why. I hear it every fucking morning because of that stupid inconsiderate prick who lives across the hall from me.

Some people are morning people. They love waking to the sounds of birds chirping or those farm dwellers are roused by the rooster early in the morning. Most people are jarred awake by their alarm clock. And what I wish this dumbass would realize is that he is not the only person living in this building. Some people work second and third shift and sleep in the morning or even through the late afternoon. (Yes, you bastard, some people ACTUALLY work for a living!!)

Many nights, I don't get home from work before midnight. I am a second shift worker unfortunately, and my hubby is a first shift worker--that way, we don't have to stick Chloe in daycare. Anyhoo, I try to get to bed by 2 am at the latest. It usually takes me a little bit to fall asleep, what with Floyd's happy snoring. He wakes me up when he leaves so I can kiss him goodbye, then I go back to sleep. Then, like clockwork, begins the free daily show from my lovely, inconsiderate piece of shit neighbor blaring his crappy music. The sound seems like he is physically in my bathroom across the hall from bedroom. So I go close the bathroom door as well as the bedroom door, crawl back under the covers, with my pillow over my head, and pray that the sound will be muffled this time, even though the past few month's efforts of the exact daily routine have proven futile. And again, I am wrong. Underneath my covers and pillow, I can clearly hear every word emanating from ACROSS the hall. Yes, I, Just Jenny, the queen of, "Huh? Whadyu say?" could understand every word. Okay, friends, THAT is when you know your music is too fucking loud. Oh, then it gets better...

Just when I thought my daily dose of my morning hell couldn't get any worse, the stupid bastard raps along... poorly and off key. I'm sorry..I'm not going to say.."OOH!! Easy-E, ODB, Biggie?!?! Is that you??!!" NO. I wanna say, "Dude, I know you are not DMX, so stop rapping along. And I don't care if "it's hard out here for a pimp", because you sure ain't Terrance Howard either!" AAaaRRRRrRRgggGGhh!!!!

So, kids, what is the lesson of the day? Well, today's lesson is if you live in a house, then feel free to listen to any loud shitty music you want and scream at the top of your lungs like you are the King of Karaoke. However, if you live in an apartment complex or condo, and you are not the lone tenant, you need to show some consideration for your fellow neighbors and turn the music down a bit. It doesn't matter if "these go to eleven"..don't go past ten on your speakers. Because if you do, that sweet lady across the hall is gonna show you her hospitality by sticking a big fucking pineapple up your ass sideways. Thank you and have a nice day.

Six days and counting...

Well, in six days I will have reached another milestone in my life. No, I haven't beaten cancer (or found a cure for it either), nor am I flying in a shuttle to outer space (dang it!). On March 18th, I will be turning the big 3-0. I assume it's somewhat obligatory to make a list of all the things you love about your life and the things you feel you're lacking..things you feel you should have accomplished when you hit 30. I don't think I'm going to do that. I honestly feel that although my life may not be what I thought it would be when I was 20, I feel I can't really complain. I suppose I wouldn't mind having a newer car--I dunno..I guess driving a 1993 Honda Accord with 183, 600+ miles on it and a big dent and rust eating away on your fender isn't really sexy. But, then again, it runs (more often than not), so then I feel lucky to have it.


My family is lovely. My dad and stepmom, my mother, my brother and sister-in-law are all wonderful. (I must say that the fact my mother has not been on speaking terms with my brother for four months breaks my heart a little more each day, but I try not to think about it too much. I try to keep the faith that one day she'll come around...) And as far as in-laws go, I couldn't have hand picked better parents-in-law if I tried. :o)


I feel that I'm blessed to have my husband Floyd in my life. I knew there was something special about him the moment we locked eyes with each other. Yes, we had a "moment" when we met. That mushy, unreal, love-at-first sight, only-in-Hollywood moment where our eyes met and in that instant, I felt my heart skip. Since then, I knew he was the one for me. As I got to know him, not only did I realize that he's funny and smart as hell, but he always--well, he just makes me feel good. Simple as that. And when we had Chloe, holy crap. Everything changed. My love for him tripled. He is flawlessly amazing at being her daddy. She is the light of our lives and we truly can't remember a time without her. From her enormous blue eyes with insanely long eyelashes, to her loud, hilarious laughter, to how sweetly peaceful she is when she slumbers, Chloe makes our happy family complete.

So when I think about my family..my parents and in-laws, brother and sister-in-law, and the loves of my life, Floyd and Chloe, I find it silly to think about making that obligatory "Dammit, I'm turning thirty!" list. Do I have regrets or things I would've liked to have done by the time I turn thirty years old?? Sure. But with those people in my life, I couldn't care less if I haven't climbed Mount Everest or gone scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef. Besides, I have to have some items for my "Dammit, I'm turning forty!" list in ten years... :o)

My daughter looks like Fred Sanford

Lemme explain..I don't mean that my sweet little 14 month old resembles Red Foxx at all. But sometimes, when she's stumbling around with her hands behind her back and her stomach puffed out, Chloe reminds me of Fred Sanford. It cracks me up. I feel sometimes that at any given moment, she's going to clutch her hand over her chest and exclaim, "Oooohh! This is the big one!! You hear that, Elizabeth?? I'm coming home, honey!!"

Now that would be odd.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..in March?!?!

Yes..I am appalled at that title as well. Here it is..the start of a warm, beautifully sunny weekend. Spring fever is definitely taking over my mind and body. But what did I notice in the streets of Sunnyland and East Peoria last night after my husband and I dropped off Chloe for the night at Grandma and Grandpa's? Snowflakes and Christmas trees lining the streets on the lamp posts. Whaaaa?!?!?! There are still Christmas decorations hanging up?? In March?! Why? I mean I understand how East Peorians are a proud people, with Folepi and the magnificent floats and exciting lights that decorate the city during the holiday season. I know I always enjoy seeing a city so lit up, it would make Las Vegas blush, but jeezy creezy, man..spring is only a couple of weeks away. We're rapidly approaching our third holiday since Christmastime. I think it's time to move on. No wonder we're still getting snow every three days. Poor Mother Nature is confused when she sees holiday decorations still up.


Hmmm...perhaps it's finally time for me to put away my holiday floormat with the penguin holding candy canes...

Attention men: Leave your eyebrows alone!!!!

I must admit..I do have a few pet peeves--approximately 1,638 pet peeves the last time I counted. It cracks me up because my hubby definitely knows my top ten list.


Floyd was telling me that the Cubs Caravan was today, which took place at the Riverplex. He told me that Ryne Sandberg was there, as well as Ted Lilly and Geovany Soto. Then he told me in a lowered, gossipy voice, "And Geovany Soto plucks his eyebrows!!!"


"WhaAAAaaatT?!?" I exclaimed. "Ugh, I hate that!"


I'm sorry. I just can't stand to see men with perfectly shaped womanly eyebrows. A guy could be drop dead gorgeous and I wouldn't have the foggiest idea, because I would be staring at those damned plucked eyebrows on his face.


Now, don't get me wrong..I'm not exactly advocating a unibrow either. Although, Bert from "Sesame Street" did say, "Never underestimate the power of the unibrow." I think if you men prefer having two eyebrows instead of one, that's alright. Just clean up the hairs that connect your eyebrows and maybe a couple of stray hairs underneath. I don't need men walking around with some crazy, perfectly arched Joan Crawford eyebrows yelling at me, "NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!!!" (I'm sorry to digress a bit..)

So, men, unless you're the 14th reincarnation of Menudo, please..for the love of God, put down the tweezers. Step away from the eyebrow wax. Show some respect for yourself and think about the children. You don't have to go overboard with your metrosexuality. I know it's hard to differentiate between simple grooming and looking absolutely effeminate...especially when there's famous athletes out there with overplucked brows also. (I'm talking to you, Rex Grossman, Pudge Rodriguez, and Michael Strahan!(to name a few) Most women just appreciate it when their guys shave occasionally and shower every once and a while. And when they give them flowers. :o)