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Category: The Mundane Life

Spice of Life Paperback Version

 

I have been working on a paperback version of my book Mother’s Death caused by Spice of Life. Here are some of the cover versions. I am waiting for my 3rd proof to arrive in the mail.

This is the first cover.
This is the first cover.
Things got way worse on the second version. I hated this one.
Things got way worse on the second version. I hated this one.
I'm still waiting to see how this will look on the real book but my brain is already making changes.
I’m still waiting to see how this will look on the real book (not sure why the jpeg isn’t showing the black background on the upload) but my brain is already making changes.

 

The glass-mostly-empty part of me is embarrassed by what surely will be a silly amateur cover when I look back on it later.

 

 

 

 

 

I am forcing myself to keep on and trying to enjoy learning and attempting something new.

Deep Thoughts by Chris Sansbury

I recently found out  that a friend’s granddaughter has a photographic memory. Never one to miss an opportunity to waste hours ruminating over useless hypothetical questions, the next morning I sat drinking my coffee wondering why I didn’t also have a photographic memory.

How can you expect me to remember anything when you are always asking me to forget everything?” a pretentious little voice asked.

“What are you talking about?” I questioned.

“You are always telling me, ‘Forget this ever happened, Brain. It’s for our own good’.”

Offended I asked, “Like what?” .

“Well obviously I can’t remember,” my brain yelled back taking offense itself.

Maybe people with photographic memories have a better time accepting reality and don’t continuously write and rewrite their past like I do. (Never forgetting to highlight myself in the very best light.) Or maybe people with photographic memories are more in the moment. That way each task they do, their brain is paying attention to it, rather than, as my brain tends to do, running off barefoot like a feral child through a dense forest.

Incidentally, in no way shape or form have I ever considered that I am simply not as smart as someone with a photographic memory. Never. Not possible. I’m sure if I worked at it I could have my own photographic memory. I choose not to have a photographic memory, that’s all. I don’t feel like doing the hard work.

“Now you’re telling me to forget that we know that we are not smart enough to have a photographic memory.”

“What? I did not. Shhh. Go run in the forest.”

Living the Mundane Life!

 

Mundane Life copy

Popping up across the coasts of Florida, like a lionfish infestation, is an automobile decal that proclaims the owners’ proud participation in the: Salt Life.

These decals taunt me. They wag their tongue and heckle me, “Hey lady, what are you doing on your weekend? Grocery Shopping? Cleaning? Taking kids to T-ball practice? Hahaha. This SUV I’m applied to is getting filled up with gas right now so we can go out on the boat all day… in the Keys. That’s right. My owners spend their exorbitant amount of free time fishing on their boat, and drinking margaritas while listening to Jimmy Buffet.”

I suspect that these bumper stickers are usually more of a wish than a reality, but I feel like they feed our problem of being more interested in giving the impression that we have a perfect, amazing life on Social Media, rather than actively participating in our real life.

I want a bumper sticker that says: Mundane Life. Because that is what my life is: dull, boring, ordinary. My weekends are filled, not with salt (on the rocks) and jet skis, but with the school projects and vacuuming. Sometimes, on a rare Saturday night, I might get taken out to a restaurant where kids eat free. YAY!

That’s my life. Not thrilling.

I’ll admit that my exasperation at bullying bumper stickers might be a sign that I am a tired parent.  (Drug free) exciting lives don’t usually involve kids. Dragging children around on adventures makes everything long, tedious and exhausting.

Are you living the Mundane Life? Some other parents offer their view.

You know you a parent who is living the Mundane Life when:

Gregg: Folding laundry for 30 minutes is the most relaxing part of your day.

Kevin: You have to schedule sex.

Jennifer: You don’t notice the constant screeching.

Amy: You now call the restroom the potty.

Jen: You are awake at 6 am on weekends.

Chris: When you wake up in the middle of the night and find a person standing by your bed staring at you, you sigh from frustration instead of screaming in fear.

Jaime: You never, ever pee alone. Ever.

Jenny: Having a boob out while shopping doesn’t get you a cameo on, “People of WalMart.”

Gregg: The one time your kid sleeps in, you have to get up anyway to check that they are breathing.

Gregg: You find yourself saying things your parents said, and swore never to repeat. They seem like great ideas now.

Kevin: You only react to certain types of screams.

Ashley: You hang out in the bathroom for a couple extra minutes just to get some alone time. (Of course, only if you were lucky enough to be in there alone.)

Ricky: You have to tell another human to not put their hands in their mouth after they just put their hands in their poop.

Gregg: You argue over who GETS to go grocery shopping.

Mark: You talk about poop. A lot.

Cash: When you hear another child cry, your first unconscious reaction is not concern, but rather elation because it is not your kid.

Gregg: The song you are humming at work is Barney’s theme song.

Alison: Travel takes 33% longer because of all the stops to feed the kids and use the “potty”.

 

What are the signs that you are living the Mundane Life?

I Wish I Had a Uniform

oldmensignI wish I could wear a uniform every day.

Go ahead and do it[i].

I would, but the weak-minded child inside me thinks that people will talk behind my back.

General Public: “I think she wears the same clothes every day.”

I don’t mind being thought of as uncreative, but I do mind being thought of as dirty.

You shouldn’t worry what others think about you.

I’ve been told that before, but truthfully no one likes to be around someone who doesn’t care what others think…because they are assholes.

If I did wear a uniform, maybe I could put a sign on the back of each shirt that differentiated it. No, not something cheesy like the days of the week. Why? Because what if I put the Thursday shirt on really late Thursday night and then it was basically still clean Friday morning, and to save water I just put the Thursday shirt back on? Huh? What do you think about that? I don’t think you should make comments until you’ve thought them through.

What I’m talking about is a sign that just says, “No, I’m not wearing the same thing as yesterday. This is my uniform.”  

I like signs that answer the questions we all have in our head. I think we need more signs for everything.  I’ve always imagined if I was ever in a wheelchair I would have a big sign right on the back saying “Hit by a teenager who was texting “LOL” to her frienemy.” Below it would say: “Don’t text and drive.” And below that, written smaller, “And don’t drive without insurance. This sign brought to you by Geico.”

Because seriously you have to admit the most awkward part of talking to a stranger in a wheelchair[ii] is trying to concentrate on what they are saying over the screaming questions in your head. What happened? Were you born this way? Are you a Lady Gaga fan? Was it an accident? Was it something stupid you did, or something stupid somebody else did?

I think we need more signs, like bumper stickers saying, “I drive like a wanker because the chemo makes me angry.” I feel like if we understood people’s back story, we would be more compassionate about their behavior. If my kid was ever killed by a drunk driver, (if I publish this that guarantees it will never happen, right? Fingers crossed. 1,000 prayers. Kiss my Saint Nicholas statue.[iii]) I would put a bumper sticker on my car saying, “A drunk driver killed my child.” My sticker would act as a reminder to people of the real consequences of drunk driving. Of course, then I would be probably get rear-ended three times a day by someone crying in their car over my sticker.

On this drunk driving note, have you ever heard Florida’s anti drunk driving slogan “Decide before you drive.”

Decide what?

That is all I think when I see that slogan. What am I deciding? To drink and drive?

Who are you talking to, slogan? Are you asking drunk people to decide if they should drink and drive before they get behind the wheel? Because drunk drivers always decide to drive before they drive.

Or are you talking to sober people before they go out? Decide to not drive under the influence before you leave for the night? I am pretty sure every sober person tells themselves, “I am going to take a cab home tonight.” Three hours later, when they are no longer sober, they say, “Just this one time. I’m ok. I’ll be ok to drive.” And only the next morning, when they are sober again, will they admit, “I really shouldn’t have driven.”

But no matter what you do, you have made a decision. Decide before you drive. Did we pay millions of dollars to come up with this vague statement? Why did we stop saying, Don’t Drink and Drive? How about: Take a Cab.

Maybe the slogan is saying decide on a designated driver before you drive. But then shouldn’t it be, decide before you drink? The problem with designated drivers is they have a tendency to change their mind half way through the night. The only reliable designated drivers are pregnant women.

I think there should be a free taxi cab service that is run by pregnant women. It could be the Zip Car of taxis.  Instead of walking around their houses in the middle of the night cursing at their sleeping husbands, pregnant women all over the country could be out driving drunk people home from bars. They could also hand out condoms and point to their belly and say, “This is what happens when you have sex while intoxicated.”

People would probably be sober by the time they got home, partly because pregnant women drive really slow, and also from the yelling, “Look at me. I’m swollen. I can’t sleep. I’m being kicked in the ribs.” (Hysterical sobbing.) I bet pregnancy rates from one-night-stands would plummet. Yelling Pregnant Woman induced sobriety would also help in case any of these women went into labor and the passengers had to drive her to the hospital.

Decide before you drive. Stupid Florida.

Maybe Floridians should have to wear a sign to identify themselves. “Talk slow, you are speaking to a Floridian.”

Signs could eliminate society’s need to ask stupid questions. Maybe signs should be required:

  • Tall people should have to identify if they play basketball or not.
  • Koreans could identify themselves as not Chinese.
  • Pregnant women could wear a band on their arm.

We could even do it for religions. Jewish people could wear…hey…wait a minute. Delete. Delete. Delete.

I’m not talking about collared shirts and khaki pants here. (Do you see what I just did there: switched back to my original subject of uniforms with no transition? This is wear the kneed for a editor becomes xtremely a parent. Are you anal-retentive and work for free? Call me. 555-867-5309[iv]) No, I am saying I’ll find a flattering style that was popular back when the 1970’s were reinvented in 1991 and just wear that every day. I basically do that anyways.  Hey, this is a different black cotton t-shirt and pair of out-of-style bell bottoms.

Hmm, if only I could let people know that, like on a sign or something.

 



[i] Yes, I am reading Dad is Fat, by Jim Gaffigan. How did you know?

[ii] “Really it’s awkward for you? How about the awkwardness of sitting in a wheel chair forever?” Hey! I just admitted I am a self-obsessed child. What more do you want? Compassion?

[iii] Did you know that Taxi cab drivers have their own saint? Saint Fiacre. I wonder if he looks after pregnant temporary cab drivers. Why do I ask? Keep reading.

[iv] Jenny, I got your number. But I’m serious. I need help. Email me. 

Family Dog Intervention: A Fake Charity that Should be Real

Cruelty

 FAMILY DOG INTERVENTION.ORG

How am I supposed to protect them if I don't howl

They used to never leave the house without me

 

Nothing can compare to the cruelty and humiliation of a dog being demoted from a couple’s first child to just a family dog. 

 

 

Become a Sponsor with FAMILY DOG INTERVENTION.org

HOW WE HELP FAMILY DOGS

Each year millions of dogs go from top dog to sleeping in the doghouse because of the birth of an infant. 350,000 human babies are born into the world each day, and with 44% of American households owning at least one dog, this means about half[i] of those babies go home to a newly neglected dog.

The cruelty will shock you:

  • Many of these canines were accustomed to barking as often as they wanted and now they are nudged in the ribs when they bark at the mailman in the middle of the afternoon.
  • Their whole life they slept in bed with their owners, how are they to adjust to a thin dog bed with zero thread count?
  • They used to get cuddled on demand, now their only physical touch occurs as they are pushed behind baby gates.
  • They go from regular walks at the dog park to being shoved into the backyard where they must defecate in a confined space with no new smells.
  • They used to enjoy eating the highest quality dog food three times a day, followed by a dessert of fresh butcher shop bones. Now they are being fed a pile of Old Roy on a paper plate every other Thursday.
  • Accustomed to weekly swimming in the ocean or at a lake, the family dog now only gets wet when they are forgotten in the backyard during a rainstorm.

I was so hungry I had to eat a lizardI used to have my own bed, now I sleep on the bare floor

At Family Dog Intervention .org we try to prevent the neglect of family dogs by providing new parents with a dog sponsor. As a nonprofit canineitarian organization, we strive to help dogs overcome the burdens of being in a family with small children. Become a family dog sponsor today and fight back against the inevitable neglect that new human children create.

THE DOGS DID NOT CHOOSE THIS

Many of these dogs were adopted into childless families and became used to a life filled with rides in the car, daily walks, physical affection, routine vet care, grooming and regular feedings.

Luckily some dogs are freed from the entrapment of family life either because families claim their new children have allergies or because the dog’s “aggressive” reaction to their neglect.  Still a large percentage of dogs stay in the family household after being demoted to just a family dog. These animals are often forgotten for minutes at a time in crates, behind baby gates, and even horrifically, in the backyard.

How Sponsorship Helps

Your sponsorship ensures your sponsored dog receives support through every phase of his or her new human baby’s life:

  • the infant crying stage (also known as I get kicked a lot.)
  • the tail pulling stage
  • the trying to make the dog a horse stage
  • Finally the most insulting: “this dog is too old and doesn’t want to fetch with me. I want a puppy.” stage

Help me! They put me in the backyard during snack timeDo I look like a dog who should eat Old Roy generic dog foodWhat is Sponsorship?

Sponsorship is an incredibly powerful way to help one dog break the bonds of being a neglected family dog. It connects you with an individual dog that desperately needs your help, and lets you provide life-changing benefits to that dog for a low monthly contribution. Sponsorship is your chance to build a lifelong friendship with an impoverished dog, one that will alter the course of his or her final dog years.

Family dog sponsorship unites dogs in need with individual sponsors who wish to address the dog’s immediate and basic needs, and gives them the tools and opportunities necessary for success, like trips to the vet, regular walks, physical affection, and playing with toys.

Where Your Donation Goes

This sponsorship provides money that goes directly to the dogs so that they have groomers, walkers, petters, play mates and healthy food.

Don’t let another day go by where a family dog is forced to eat generic kibble. Become a sponsor today!

 


[i] Check our math. 44% of 350,000 is 154,000. 154,000 dogs become forgotten each day in America. That is 56,210,000 dogs a year, which is 75% of the entire American population of dogs in one year. So imagine in just 5 years, 281 million dogs will be neglected!  Unless you help now, that is a third of the whole world’s dog population that is at risk of neglect. 9677230218%^$#(*&)(&988-02e1241-0 (ß——-Look at these complicated numbers. We need your money! )