Sweet home Chicago, with my best HO

Well people, I have made it to the Windy City. The friend that I came to see, T is teaching tonight, so I have a few hours to spare before she meets me. She teaches English and I am sure that she uses her red nasty teacher pen to mark up the spelling and grammatical errors in each of my posts. Bitch. Anyway, I am happily waiting in the bar across the street from her apartment. T and I are having dinner once she arrives, so in the meantime, I decided to have a snack. Central time makes me hungry, mostly because it makes me feel ambitious….a whole extra hour added to my day. Woot! Per T’s recommendation, I ordered the chips with bleu cheese. Yummy. She actually told me earlier: “You should get the bleu cheese and chips if you are willing to cheat on your diet!” Girlfriend ( and when I say that I am snapping my fingers and looping my neck around in circle formation), how long have we been friends? Diet schmiet. Diets are for losers. And skinny people. I am neither. So as I sit here eating my chips and licking the sauce from my fingers in the most disgusting way, I’m wondering if I might be the first women ever to finish the entire plate by herself? I do feel like the people around me are whispering to one another, “I think she is going to do it. Look at her go!”

Friends like T are hard to come by. Not only is she one of my closest friends, I have been friends with her longer than another else in my life. We went to high school together, college too. In fact, the first time I had sex, I was wearing a skirt (yes, I was that scared…I didn’t take off my skirt during the act) that I borrowed from her. At that time, T and I were the last of the virgins. I remember going over to her house after doing the deed, giddy with excitement that my teenage body had done a very womanly thing. A thing that had scared me for so long. Even after the first time, I was scared. Scared that I would become addicted to sex, drop out of high school and whore myself about town. Mostly though, I was afraid that I would get preggers and not be able to go to college. This would hurt my parents so terribly, that they would glue my younger sister’s legs together and never let her leave the house. The fear of this caused me to hold off on my budding sexuality. I just wasn’t ready for the consequences. And beside, I found out like most girl do, that the first time isn’t that good. And if you are still thinking about me doing the nasty with her skirt, I did have it dry cleaned before I gave it back to her. That is just the way I roll.

It has been over 10 years since T and I lived in the same city. Thanks to Alexander Grahm Bell, we have never let the distance separate us. So I am super duper excited to be visiting her, in her new home of Chicago, for the first time. In many ways, my adult friendship making has been hindered by the relationships that I have with those close to me. Those people being T, my sister, mother and husband. The last job I had, I traveled about 60% of the time. I didn’t work out of an office, but out of my home. I had no idea how difficult it would be to make friends as an adult. My new job, one that requires very little travel, has changed all of that. I now know that I will be home every night and am able to commit to things that I couldn’t before. Tennis is my favorite of those things. I have met so many people over the last few years from tennis. There are a few that I am getting to be rather close with. But friendship takes time. And I have to tell you that sometimes I get impatient. But I have to remember that the friendships I have with my inner circle (very George Clooney, don’t you think?) took many years to develop. Besides, if you remember, George got his start on The Facts of Life, long after it had jumped the shark. I guess there is still hope for me.

Before: Duche fag with a bad mullet who works for Mrs. Garrett and goes rollerskating on the weekends with Tootie...

After: Award winning friend of Brat Pitt...

Ho Wednesday

I can't believe how quickly the summer is moving past me. I feel like I've got nothing to show for it. Next week, I promise to change that. I am on my way to Chicago tomorrow to visit one of my oldest friends. Not that SHE'S old, I mean we have been friends for a long, long time. It is interesting that every time I have typed "Chicago" today, I mistype and spell it "Chicagho." Hmmm....there will be no hoing for me.....I am after all a very married lady. I have typed it more than normal because my OCD brain has had me look up directions a million times. Because my OCD is spiralling out of control today (as it always does right before a trip), here are some random thoughts from the brain of Big Momma:

1. Ho. Every time I say ho to Mr. Big Momma he always replies, "Ho problems." Apparently there is some dude in Florida that has a van with an 80's style mural on it and it says "Ho problems." Mr. Big Momma was lucky to have seen in a few years ago while in Florida for business. I'm even told that there is a picture of it that one of his colleagues took. If I had it, I would so post it for everyone to enjoy. I'm nice like that.

2. Last night the Krazy Krushers had their first game of the playoffs. It didn't look good at first, but we were able to pull it off. I started to wonder if our poor spelling skills were coming back to haunt us. I guess not, for now.

3. After tennis last night, we went, as we always do to O'Reilleys to indulge in some free pitchers. Thankfully we have a bar that sponsors us. Our old bodies rely on the beer buzz. I really think that beer has healing powers. Even Miller Lite. One of my teammates, who I do not know very well, was getting text messages from some married dude that she is screwing. He actually texted her, "wanna fuck?" How romantic. I am so glad to be out of the dating pool and not faced with the harsh reality of text dating. Or text booty calls. Or pervy old ho men who might think that a message like that is a turn on for a gal. Seriously guys, a little romance goes a long way.

4. I am a little sad that I won't be on the couch with Mr. Big Momma this Friday to watch the opening ceremony of the Olympics. This has been a tradition of ours for many years now. The Olympics is like crack, for dopey nerds like us. Go USA!

5. My next Fun Monday post is a really cool one: to post your favorite picture. This is a really easy one for me. My favorite picture is on my fridge. I look at it hundreds of times each day and it always brings a smile to my face. It is of me and Jr. when he was about 3 years old. I was in grad school and working on the weekends for a vet hospital. The vet had just gotten 2 lab puppies and asked me to watch them for the weekend while he was out of town. The picture shows each of us with a lab in hand, laughing. The kind of laughter where you are laughing so hard that your head tilts back. Jr., being an absolutely gorgeous boy has this cute little scrunchy face thing going on. Every time I look at that picture, I almost expect it to come to life. I expect to look down and have that adorable three year old standing by my side. Sadly, this never happens. Sometimes it seems like it was taken ages ago, other times it seems as if we took if just a few days ago. When I see it I also remember the follow up picture of Jr. napping on a pile of unfolded laundry with a puppy on each side of him. The three slept so peacefully. I wish he could get that kind of peace back in his life. I know that I am blowing my wad by telling you, the internet, about this picture. The reality is that I would never post it here. I have chosen to be an anonymous blogger, outside of the few family members and friends that know about it. Not only do I want to keep my identity out of this blog, I'd like to do the same for Jr. So, I'm back to square one, trying to come up with a suitable picture. I feel like I am in college again, searching for answers that don't seem obvious with a deadline looming over my head.

Well, enough thinking for tonight. I need to shut it down. Goodnight brain.

Number 1 vs. Number 2

Well, it is official. I have been thinking (more than normal) about poo for the last 24 hours thanks to this week's Fun Monday challenge. See below if you missed it. A few random comments to close out the day:

1. I am shocked that my sister did not post to this. Not only is she an excellent crapper and a DADS veteran, her lifelong nickname is POOP. I couldn't make that up if I tried. No one seems to know why she is called Poop, but we do know that it is short for Poop-ca. I told you my family was weird. She also has one of the best poop stories for your money. I won't tell it since it is hers to tell, but I will tell you that it involves beer, beds and cupcakes. All of the makings of a great story, at least in my family. Love you guys!

2. My thoughts earlier today began transitioning from poo to pee. You see our Vet has asked for a pee sample from Sasha the wonder dog. I was a bit worried about how I would get this, even for a professional pee catcher. Many years ago as a grad student at Ohio State, I was involved in a study with the vet school. And when I say "involved," I mean I was their bitch. The vet school was trying to see how long certain enhancement drugs lasted in the urine of various animals. Every morning, I would have to get up and go collect the pee of 20 fat, poo splattered, lazy pigs. In order to do this, I had a long stick with a cup holder on the end. I would put my sample cup in and wait for a pig to pee. As soon as one would crouch, I would stick my cup stick under their pig business and hope for the best. I had to get up at the butt crack of dawn so that I could drive the 45 minutes to the farm and be there before the pee fest began. Pigs, much like humans, have peeing as their number one prioritory as they start their day. Sasha does not like to have someone watch her when she does her business, so I was fearful that all of my pee collecting experience would go down the drain. But, I was a successs right out of the gate. Yeah me...not all that I learned in grad school is a loss.

3. If it rains tonight, you have me to thank since I watered my flowers today. What a sad bunch they were. I hope they perk up by morning.

4. I am shit shocked that I wasn't tossed out of the Fun Monday group.

5. I have to go to campus tomorrow, so it most certainly will be raining. You can thank me or curse me, your choice.

6. I also have a great story about collecting horse semen, but I'll save that for another time. A time when you might be less grossed out. I think I have exceeded the gag limit for today.

Goodnight all. Sweet dreams. Hopefully mine will not be excrement filled. Unlikely since I ate sausage for dinner.

P.S. I typed pig, picture and peeing into Google and all I got was a bunch of nasty porn sites. And that is my public service message for the day.

Fun Monday: The Grand Poo-Bah

My Fun Monday challenge for this week is to write about my favorite word. My new friends Jennifer and Emily came up with this challenge. To see their post and the others that participate, please visit their blog at http://www.mothersofbrothers.com/blog/.

There are many reasons why my husband and I get along so well. One of them is due to our shared love of the same word. It is a word that is heard frequently in our household (at least when Jr. isn’t over) and although some use it in a negative way, for us it is a term of endearment. However, because I have been asked to write a G rated post, I’ll have to go in another direction.

Which leads me to the last four hours. Four painful hours of having to think of my favorite word. Admittedly, I have been procrastinating. I’ve loaded the dishwasher, regrouted the bathroom and cleaned the dust that has settled between the keys on my laptop. Mr. Big Momma was out golfing, so I wasn’t able to tap into his witty helpfulness. When he got home, I told him of my challenge and of course he came up with the word that I mentioned above and will refrain from mentioning here. Darn. So like I frequently do when I am blocked, I ventured into the bathroom. My thrice daily duties (see where I am going with this yet?) and continued suggestions from Mr. BM (another clue) lead me to my answer.

Drum roll, please….

Poo.

Now I know that many of my Fun Monday counterparts will probably come up with intellectually stimulating answers that will required me to dig out my dictionary. I however, am not this gifted. I am not a writer. I am much more of a talker who struggles to get my talk into words to which I can post on my blog. It wouldn’t surprise me at all, if after this post, I get a polite request from the people at FM asking me to leave their group. But, I have never been one to shy away from speaking my mind. And if they do ask this, I will revolt by starting my own group, Fun Tuesdays, where only R rated posts will be accepted.

Anyway, why poo? I love the word poo for many reasons. It makes me laugh when I say it. “Aww poo is a nice alternative to awww s***, for those G rated moments in life. “Holy poo” is another variation. Not only do I enjoy saying it, I very much enjoy doing it. This phenomenon, for you non-poo people out there is called Poo-phoria. I learned of this phenomenon by reading the book “What Your Poo is Telling You” by Josh Richman and Anish Sheth, M.D. This is a brilliant book that provides insight into your health by examining your poo. Not really a book suitable for your coffee table, but a great addition to your bathroom reading. I truly am a better and healthier person because of this book. It is a great way to pass the time while pooing and provides countless laughs to those who visit my loo.

I grew up in a family that frequently discussed our bathroom antics. My whole family is a poo loving bunch! You might even say that poo is the glue that binds my family together. “Family” was my first choice for this challenge, but talking about poo is so much more fun. At least for me. Over the years, as we have discussed our poo at great length, we were never savvy to the official language of pooing. The book WYPITY has now allowed us to more succinctly title our favorites. Some of them are:

Hanging Chad

The Chinese Star

D.A.D.S. or Day After Drinking Stool. This one has been a frequent topic over the years…

Deja Poo, which is also called “Haven’t I seen that somewhere before poo.” As corn lovers, this is another frequent poo topic that we enjoy during the summer months.

The Streak. Embarrassing when you go to a non-family member’s house, but a badge of pride with my clan. I have seen some award winners from my father. He is a true champion of poo. Olympic quality, gold metal poo.

So there you have it. Poo. Embrace it.

Update as of 11:16 pm on Sunday night. I'm starting to think my favorite word is lawyer, after seeing all that Mr. Big Momma is going thru with his ex tonight. I'll leave that to another post.

Random thoughts from the Sunshine State

Aaah, the Sunshine State. Could also be called:

Rain to the left, sunshine to the right State
Sweaty State
Thankful for Deodorant State
Too far from home State
Hola, como esta State
The Depends State

Florida is not my favorite place to go. We always seem to go here for our summer meetings. It would make more sense if they sent us here for our January meeting. But, since I am the low Momma on the totem pole, I have no say. A few thoughts for the day:

1. I had made plans to go to dinner with a work friend tonight. She called a little while ago and suggested we make the short trip to Miami and eat there. With some of her other friends. I opted to stay in my room because 1. I hate driving with someone I don't know and 2. I hate being at the mercy of someone else. Plus, I am kinda tired of socializing.

2. For those of you who I told I was going to Orlando, you are probably wondering how above friend suggested we drive to Miami. They are not crazy.....I am an idiot. We are not in Orlando, but in Hollywood, Florida, where open containers are legal. Who knew? I only realized this while getting my boarding pass at the airport. Sometimes I scare myself.

3. I'm not sure, but I think I might have unknowingly joined a cult. At least it is a cult that sends me a paycheck every two weeks.

4. While checking into the hotel, they had all of us sign an official document stating that we would be checking out on 7/31/08 and that we would not ask to extend our stay. I found out yesterday that the reason for this is that they have a big, international convention meeting here tomorrow. Avon convention? No. Something really important and interesting? Important, no. Interesting, definitely. The International Swingers convention begins tomorrow. If only I knew that before signing the waver. Just kidding Mr. Big Momma...you are already more than I can handle!

5. I just got my next Fun Monday assignment. It is interesting, but the hosts are requesting that our posts be G rated. A true challenge that I am not sure I'm up for. Especially with those swingers on my mind.

6. My first thought regarding the swingers was: "Exactly what does one do at a swinger's convention." Um, duh, they swing! I just hope they sterilize the sheets....

It's Monday and it's fun: If I was king for just one day.....

This week’s Fun Monday is an interesting one:

If you were ruler for a day/week/month/year (your choice on the time) you would...

And p.s., I’m posting early because I going to be in Florida, starting tomorrow for a work trip. Mr. Big Momma will be home all week, so don’t even consider breaking into my house to steal my stuff. And beside, we have ADT on our side. Ooh and don’t forget to visit the rest of the Fun Monday group at http://blog.mommywizdom.com/. It is after all, Monday…what else do you have to do?

My one simple rule: abolish stupid people. Ever day of every year. I would reign supreme.

In my heart, and per The Ohio State University, I am a geneticist. Charles Darwin is one of my heroes. So much so that I have a C.D. magnet on my fridge. Serious, huh? I don’t joke. For those of you who have been out of the loop for the last 100 or so years, Charles Darwin coined the phrase “natural selection” after doing many years of boring research on pea plants and the like. Not a very exciting man but a brilliant one none the less. Natural selection can be defined as:

“The process by which favorable heritable traits become more common in successive generations of a population of reproducing organisms, and unfavorable heritable traits become less common, due to differential reproduction of genotypes.” Thank you Wikipedia!

For those non-scientists out there, this basically means that as we, uh, get it on, if you know what I mean, the good live and the bad die. I’ve probably made this too simple. But really, it is a simple scientific concept.

I am sure that Darwin would applaud me in how I will use his scientific discovery to make my decision on what I would do if I was large and in charge. Hell, we would probably even get a paper published in “Science.”

To go back to this definition, and to get to the point, we will describe his terms in the following way:

Favorable heritable trait=intelligence

Unfavorable heritable trait=stupidity, or white trash, depending on when you ask me

Population=the world

Differential reproduction of genotypes=you don’t need to know as it won’t be on the quiz

A quick experiment to help you understand…..

Big Momma and Mr. Big Momma, after a wild drunken night at Bob’s Bar come home, tear each other’s clothing off and engage in a wild night of swing from the rafters sex. Because I am a terrible speller and he can’t seem to ever shut a cabinet door, our offspring would fail out of first grade and end up as a divorced adult because his/her lack of cabinet shutting skills would drive his or her spouse to the brink of insanity. Said child would die, thus not be able to reproduce (no swing from the rafters sex for you!) and these terrible traits would not be passed on to inevitably torture future generations. Whew! Assuming these traits did not exist in either of us, said child would be able to splice genes, leap tall building in a single bound (I am an excellent jumper despite having flabby triceps....you wave at me and I'll wave right back!) and build cabinetry that would shut itself. I say that only because Mr. Big Momma is a brilliant architect. Got it? Good.

Based on all of this scientific mambo-jumbo, I am sure you all are asking “why do stupid people continue to exist?” They should, based on Darwin’s ideas, have been weeded out long ago. I can assure you they exist because of alcohol. Drunk people have sex. Reckless sex. Which produces reckless, dumb offspring. Reckless dumb offspring continue to reproduce reckless dumb offspring. And so on and so on. You've seen Cops, right? This is where I come in. In a wave of my hand or a crinkle of my nose, I would wipe out those who swim in the shallow end of the gene pool. As a result we would have a world in which there was no war, no hatred, no credit card debt, and no mullets. No abusive spouses. No idiots talking on their cell phones while driving on the highway. And most imporantly, no flower pots made from old tires. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Welcome to the world of Big Momma. I hope you enjoy your stay.

The man, the myth, the legend, Chuck Darwin. Kinda hot in a nerdy way. I totally dig dudes with mutton chops, hence my infatuation with Elvis. The position of his left hand is a little creepy, don't you think? I wonder what he is hiding....the pea in his pod perhaps?

And his oh so fascinating peas! They look good enough to eat!

Weekend visitor

Auntie Flo came by for a visit this weekend and boy, she is a bitch.