The Government Ate My Paperwork, Then They Paid Me.

Ok, so I should probably start with an apology. However, I'm not going to, and here's why: excuses are easier. I've spent the last 6 months applying and fighting for my disability to go through. And just a couple hours ago I got my first payment. I can breathe now.

You all knew I was bi-polar, and since the last post I've also added OCD, GAD (general anxiety disorder), PTSD, and mild Agoraphobia. Quite the list, huh. It's actually quite funny when you get right down to it.

For example, a conversation I would normally hold in my head on any given day:

(BP): So, I should really get out of bed.
(GAD): But what if it's COLDDDD out?
(PTSD): We could get sick!
(BP): Nope, I am getting up.
                Crap! This house is a mess!
(OCD): I've been telling you that for weeks!
(BP): Well, I've been in a down swing for a while. Why don't you help me clean it up?
(OCD): It's gotten too bad, I can't face it. You mixed up everything I had in ORDER!
(GAD): It's too much, I need to lay down.
(BP): We'll do it later. How about a walk to the library?
(A): NOOOOOOOO!!!!
(OCD): Just don't forget to go the right way, no sidetrips or something may go wrong!
(GAD and PTSD) By yourself??? NOOOOOO!!!!
(BP) I guess I'll go later, after I take a nap.

Rinse and repeat. But such is my life. On the upside, at least I'm not Schizophrenic...yet...lol!

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady

Buying Booze For My Sober Mother: Gin Edition

My parents are VERY anti-alcohol. They are so against drinking that they don't even know what the names of alcohol are. My mother is also an avid gardener. She's recently gotten into using household items for weed killing and such.

So today she and my dad show up at my house with a magazine that gave a recipe for homemade weed killer. This conversation happened:

MOM: Hey, do you know what G-I-N is? Daddy says he thinks its a type of alcohol.

ME: Gin. Yep, that's alcohol. You can get it at any liquor store.

MOM: You KNOW we don't go into places like THAT. (said with obvious scorn.)

ME: Mom, do you want to give me the money to go buy some gin for your plants?

MOM: Well, you don't tell anybody we bought alcohol. (nope, no one. Just letting everybody read it on my blog...)

MOM: How much does it cost?

ME: Well, I've never bought gin, but probably less than 10 bucks.

Mom and I then walk over to the car, where Dad is waiting patiently.

MOM: Daddy, (yes she really calls him that...) will you take *Kat Lady* (my name omitted for obvious reasons) to the liquor store so she can buy me some gin for my plants?

DAD: Why? Do your plants need to get drunk? (The wit of my father astounds me...lol)

MOM: Don! That's not funny. I use it for weed killer. (I would use it for other, more obvious reasons...and I rarely drink.)

DAD: Shirley, calm down, I'll take her with me and we'll go get your alcohol.

MOM: Shhh! I don't want the whole neighborhood to know!

ME: The whole neighborhood is probably drunk already, mom, it's Memorial Day Weekend.

Dad hands me a twenty, and I grab my ID (which they didn't check btw...) and we drive the approximate 2 blocks to the nearest liquor store. I briefly contemplate buying a dollar shot bottle to ease the headache of dealing with my mother. I buy the gin, and exit the store. This conversation happens:

DAD: Was it expensive?

ME: Nope. 6 bucks for a decent size bottle. Wanna see?

DAD: NO. That's your MOTHER's gin.

DAD: By the way, that was a lot of Mexicans buying a lot of beer behind you...

ME: Uh-huh. It's pretty cheap. It's also a holiday weekend.

DAD: You would think it was Cinco De Mayo. (Dad's slightly racist, but in an ironic way.)

ME: Let's just get this liquor to Mom, so she can murder some weeds with alcohol poisoning.

We return and I leave the liquor in the car.

MOM: Did you get it? Is there enough?

ME: Mom, you could drown a whole lawn full of weeds with it.

DAD: Shirley, I had her pick me up a bottle of Champagne so I have something for later. (COMPLETELY deadpan. The man is comic genius!)

MOM: (starts looking like she's gonna blow her top)

ME: (Starts maniacally laughing...this is just too ridiculous.)

DAD: Shirley get a grip. If I wanted to get drunk I'd buy some of those Mexican's beers.


I later find out that mom snuck the brown bag with the gin in it inside like she was smuggling crack. I imagine it looked a lot like Gollum trying to look inconspicious. What I wanna know is how many weeds is she gonna kill with that amount of gin.
Goodbye Mom and Dad's lawn...

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady

Out Here, On the Prairie, Where There's NO Entertainment...

Figures, right? I start blogging again, and my internet access is cut off, I have NO cable, and I'm using the public library to access everything. Well, it could be a lot worse, I know...first world problems. However, I am a week or so out from my 30th birthday and I'm crawling the walls til Friday, when I get my cable back. I could kiss Dish Network on the mouth for picking up the ball when Cox Communications dropped it. 4 years of solid usage by us and Cox decided that it was time to be complete...well...Cox about it.

Jokes on them though. Now we can get TV from Dish and internet from them for about half of what we have been paying. Just for the record, customer service with Cox is a nightmare. Oh well, adios to them and on to bigger and better things!

June 2 is my birthday, so since my hubby has to work the night shift, my parents are taking me to dad's company picnic at The Sedgwick County Zoo. Should be fun! I've always wanted to go to the zoo on my birthday, just never thought it would be my 30th...lol. Then, on the 8th, my friends and Das Bear and I are going to go to this ah-may-zing Chinese buffet in Wichita and shop at the mall- make a real day of it. I'm lucky my friends are so awesome! Until then, however, it's back to the house with 12 channels on TV and a girl who is ten feet deep in the Hunger Games books. I read the first two back to back without putting them down. Now I MUST watch the movies! soon I hope!

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady

Garage Sales: Formerly Your Trash, Now Mine.

I'm excited about spring for one very specific reason. I LOVE GARAGE SALES! Specifically I love town-wide garage sales. This weekend, my home town will be opening it's garages and I'll most definitely be there. I have a mission this time, however...we need a couch. I won't be specific, but ours is past it's use by date. Not to mention it is the MOST UNCOMFORTABLE couch I have ever been on.

Anyways, odds are I'll come home with more than I need, and that's why Das Bear is coming. He's a slick negotiator. He brings out his "hotel face" and manages to sweet talk everyone into giving us a great deal. Sometimes I even feel bad for the person- they have no idea what they are going to be up against. ;)

I am a sucker for 80s and 90s kids toys as well. I don't need them, but I'll gladly put them on my collection shelf. My Little Ponies and Cabbage Patch Dolls and Troll Dolls are my kryptonite. What can I say? I have some fond memories of all but the troll dolls. (Mom said NO TROLL DOLLS because apparently they are hideous.)

Another thing I will always buy is sarongs and colorful sheets. I stay much cooler in the summer wearing sarongs and dresses, and the colorful sheets are great room dividers. Also, I love incense and oil burners. I am a sucker for incense! Yes, I am a bohemian hippie style girl!

You can also tell a lot about a person by what they are selling. (I've touched on this before.) I have found some very strange things at garage sales, some which were on the tables with the kid toys. Once I found a self pleasure item in a free box full of plastic toys. Would not touch that with a ten foot pole.

Often the best sales are at the sketchiest looking houses. These are the people who know they won't get much foot traffic, so they price things accordingly. Never pay more than 50 cents for clothing- unless it's designer, couture, or a gown.

I've been known to stretch a 20 dollar bill until it screams. I will sort through a freebie box all day long. I am the freebie queen. My secret to stretching your garage sale cash is to add up everything in your hands and then offer half to the seller. Less than half is insulting, and you can always negotiate to a price you are both comfortable with.

Wear sunscreen and a hat. Nothing ruins a good sale more than being physically miserable. Drink plenty of water or buy at lemonade stands. Also, don't be afraid to pay what something is worth, not what it is priced.

Well, I am crossing my fingers and hoping for the best deals on Saturday...wish me luck!

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady

Gardening with Hurricane Shirley and Don the Brawn.

Lately I have found out my parents are complete opposites. Mom's speed is such that the only way I can think to describe her is two words: Gung Ho. Ok, that sounds bad, my mom is not a Ho. She's just really insistent on getting her way, and is willing to beg, borrow, whine, and grouch her way into getting what she wants.  Now mind you, my mother has a good heart, and is always thinking she is doing the best for someone else, when in reality it benefits her.

My dad, however, is strictly the backbone, the moving parts of the operation, and possibly the most patient person I have ever met. However, as he is getting older, he is finally starting to stand up to Hurricane Shirley, and will yank her chain back if necessary. He also has an excellent sense of humor. With Dad, you know that he's going to throw a sarcastic quip out at the right moment and usually at your expense. It's quite charming really.

Today was the best example of classic Hurricane Shirley and Don the Brawn. Mom stopped by this morning and I went to a couple greenhouses with her. I had started a small container garden (4 containers and a front flower bed) so when I went with her, I had planned on getting two more tomato plants. When I arrived home, I had added two tomato plants, four cucumbers, and eight peppers to the original 3 tomato plants, 4 cucumbers, and eight peppers. This small container garden was small no more. I did some shuffling and planted what would fit, and mom said she'd bring me a couple more containers to plant the extra peppers in.

I had just began to relax and contemplate a bath when my phone rang. Mom. I answered (like I always do...) and mom told me that she and Dad were in town with some stuff for my garden. They arrived with 5 tomato cages, 2 large buckets, a shovel, 2 large planters, and a giant planter. I was informed by my mother that we were going to replant the tomatoes into the new containers, plant the peppers and douse everything with Miracle-Gro. Joy. Dad went straight for the folding chair on the porch. It was obvious that he had been coerced into coming. Being as we were out of potting soil, it was also obvious that someone was going to have do some serious digging the backyard for dirt.  I looked at Dad, he looked at me. I smiled, he smiled. Then he said, "Well, you better get to it..." and I knew my back was about to get REALLY sore. At some point he took pity on me and filled a couple of the containers, I don't remember when as I think I may have been hyperventilating. I'm not a small girl, and I'm not that great at physical stuff, so I was in some good pain.

We brought the filled containers around to the front (brought=lugged, pulled, panted, died) and I started transplanting. Then I realized we had to fill four more containers. I looked at Dad and smiled, he pretended not to see me. I looked at mom, she was pouring Miracle-Gro generously EVERYWHERE and I dragged the shovel and container back to the torture zone (I mean backyard). I filled the pots and brought them up and transplanted the remaining plants. My mom then spent the next 10 minutes telling me to do things and making me change things a million times. Dad fell asleep on the porch.

Mom woke Dad up and said she was hungry. Dad told her to walk across the street to Dillons. She looked at me and said "Let's go." I thought of many responses to that order, and eventually decided I would probably get a shovel to the brain if I said any of them to her. Besides, I was not going to be THAT daughter. You know the ungrateful one who makes their mother walk across the street to the grocery store with her broken leg and walk back carrying food.

By the time we returned I was exhausted. Still am. Which sucks because Das Bear wants me to clean the living room before he gets home at 11. Thinking that's not gonna happen. I'm taking a nap. Maybe a bath.

Most of all, I'm going to expect my phone to ring tomorrow morning, and for the caller ID to say MOM. Odds are I'm going to the greenhouses again, and I'm gonna have to dig more dirt and I'll get an impromptu visit from Mom and Dad again tomorrow. And Dad will sit there and watch us monkeys work, and I'll break my back and die. Ok, maybe not that last one. But for sure the others.

Love and Laughter-
Kat Lady

How much is that weenie in the window???

I vaguely apologize for my long absence. I could make excuses, I could lie, I could grow an extra arm...no, wait not that last one. Really, I just stopped finding myself interesting enough to write about, let alone read about. Now I'm on a better dosage of my psych meds and possibly may be humorous again. Or not. Whatever works for you.

I'm back and I've got some real ringers to share with you, involving my husband lusting for a cabinet and some weiner-related collectables to fill it with. If you read back to my post on reality television you will note that I am a true reality junkie. Recently, some of the shows have captured Das Bear's attention. One of these shows is Interior Therapy with Jeff Lewis. The most recent episode featured a couple named Adam and Yvonne. (Yeah, really.) She was gung-ho to move in after their committed relationship of an immense 5 months. Yeah, Yvonne, see me in another 9 years or so. Anyway, this jackwagon (Adam) has a curiously large collection of dicks. Yes, penises, weiners, wangs, jackwillies, etc. He had so many phallus related items that he needed to store them in a glass fronted cabinet. That's right...a "straight" man had so many dick-related replicas he had to buy them a cabinet. I wonder how it goes at his house parties. "Welcome, let me show you around...there's the kitchen, with the new stove, the dining room with the gigantic table, and my piece d'resistance- my collection of cocks.

Of course, he was totally connected to these one-eyed willies, and demanded they be carefully stored. To me it seemed he may have been a little too concerned about his penises, and not concerned enough with the (YOGA INSTRUCTOR) vagina that was willing to permanently pay attention to his (attached) flesh wand. Anyways, I commended what a dick (ironic, eh) this guy was, and my husband said something that stopped me in my tracks.

Me: That guy's a dick. I totally hate him.

Das Bear: I like his weiner cabinet. You CAN'T hate a guy that collects weiners.

It was at this point that he and I both concluded this dude was so far in the closet that he needed to collect dicks. Did I mention the dude had this really weird obsession with Mr. Rogers' sweaters and giant bowties? I can't think of a straight man who'd wear that inside his house, let alone on television. To cement our view, the camera cut to his "girlfriend" outside doing yoga. The woman was literally balanced on her arms with her legs in the air out to the side. This led to another discussion on his sexuality.

Das Bear: He's got be gay.

Me: Why?

Das Bear: If a woman like that wanted to move into my house I'd be like "and where would you like your yoga studio? My man cave? Have at. I'll build a treehouse in the back yard to drink beer and watch man shows.

Me: Wow. Just wow.

So, yes, at the end of the show Yvonne decided she really didn't like being the bitch in the relationship and ended it with Adam. I hope he's happy when he finds his true (man) love.

And also, my husband wants a cabinet so he can collect penises. Yep, that sounds good to me, as long as I get the bottom shelf for all the colorful rubbery ones....;)

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady