Mary Schroeder 9/24/51 – 5/31/94….Mom–21 years and I still miss you every day…

Standard sweater and xmas tree

img396 (2)mom in pool

me n mom n donnie family pic

mom...santa hat nurse

mom w puppy


MAKE A U-TURN NOW!! (Otherwise Known As That GPS Bitch Is Bossy As Hell), Bikini Season For Turtles, That’s One Big Beaver, Scandalous And Alive Bitches!, And Other Glorious Gibberish


Is it a bad sign when the GPS gets desperate enough to start borderline yelling at you?  Caron failed to make one little turn, and the GPS bitch had a melt down!  She started hollering to “Make A U-Turn NOW” while we’re waiting at a busy intersection, which was definitely shady advice, since a u-turn at that point would have likely resulted in blaring horns, crunching metal and disgruntled emergency personnel asking why the hell you attempted a u-turn there.  Granted, seconds after the GPS lost its shit, we did sorta kinda end up crossing the Mississippi, which put us in Illinois, which is most definitely NOT where we wanted to go.  But never fear kiddies, we ended up at the museum safe and sound shortly after the whole “ending up in another state for a minute or so” and after making the GPS completely lose its composure and such.  Considering that we are the same gals who got lost in a trailer park for hours once, we did darn good on this trip!

In addition to having the traveling Titanic exhibit thingy, the museum also has a bunch or river/water critters of all sorts.  In one water tank, there was one little turtle feller that was just doing laps around and around and around the tank, which got me wondering all sorts of things.  Like, is there some other turtle he’s trying to impress?  Or maybe he got ahold of some sort of turtle version of meth, and now he’s all tweaking and fidgety and such.  Or maybe its bikini/trunks season for turtles right now.  Ooh, or maybe he’s just casing the joint, checking for weaknesses in the tank thingy so he can plan a break out or a chance to overthrow the current museum regime.

There was also a rather un-small beaver that also had its own little exercise routine, which was primarily a mind-boggling number of underwater somersaults.  Seriously though, that was one big-ass beaver, so it’s probably not a bad idea for it to get a bit of exercise.

So the Titanic exhibit was pretty darn neat.  I definitely want to see the bigger, permanent exhibits in Tennessee and such, but this one was still pretty cool.  The best part was the passenger I was given at the start.  See, they give you this ticket thing with a single passengers info on it.  Then, at the end of the exhibit, you get to find out if your passenger lived of not.  My passenger basically kicked ass.  She was married to “a man of color” (totally, awesomely scandalous!) and had 2 little girls and a bun in the oven.  There was even a family portrait up in the exhibit, which I’m fairly certain that means my chick was way cooler than Caron or Robin’s chicks.  So anyway, I found out that both my chick and her little curtain-climbers survived!  Unfortunately, she wound up being a single parent–her husband did not survive.  But how awesome is it that I got the chick who was both awesomely scandalous and alive??

Randomosity:  Am I the only one who cheers on the Sasquatch in the Jack Links commercials?  Like, I just want him to eat all those dumb-asses when they’re mean to him.  I think cops should be able to tase people for having a mullet, using a double negative, denying ownership of items hidden on their person (drugs in my underwear? those aren’t mine!), etc etc etc.  I can’t remember if I blogged about my awesomeness when I got pulled over last month, which was just astonishingly humiliating.  Cause I’m so smooth and composed and such.  I’m fairly certain over half the population would just curl up and die if their electronic devises just stopped working.  I’d miss blogging and Kindle books and Free Cell and Spider Solitaire and The Sims and my itunes/ipod…and Skype of course.  That’s really it.  I check my bank account sometimes.  I totally forgot to tell about the mafia hit man!  There’s a restaurant near the museum named Vinny Vanucchi’s Little Italy, which totally sounds like the cover for a mafia hit man or something, doesn’t it??  Lmao…this guy just told the cops that a “brown kaloose” bit him.  Then this guy, a big ol’ muscly black dude, gets a phone call and starts sobbing wailing that people were beating him up for no reason and such, which was kinda hilarious.  I totally don’t want to work tomorrow….today…whatever.  Another long day of being nice to people I kind of would rather throat punch.  But at least I get to work with my buddy Krystal!!!!  So yay for that!!!

Hang loose, ‘kaloose’!

Little Boys Are Weird, Raccoon Hickeys, More Reasons I Want To Punch People, And More Rambling Randomosity


Is it just me, or are little boys just about the oddest creatures on the planet?  Like the little fella who was walking around the store last night, swinging a poor baby doll by its little arm, the box still dangling from its poor little legs.  He was swinging it around with manic delight while screeching “Baby!  Mama, yook!  Baby!  Baby!  My baby!”  What made this extra hilarious, and a tad disturbing, was the fact that this is the same little guy who lovingly hugs the cars and tractors he usually picks out instead of flailing them around in the rather brutal way he was  treating that poor baby doll.  And then there’s my little buddy Tien, who begs for people to give him wedgies.  My favorite weird little dude tale, however, has to be the incident I heard about last night.  My new buddy April has, like, a bunch of crumb-gobblers.  Apparently, one of her little gals informed one of her little guys that she had a vagina and he didn’t.  When the poor boy was informed that, not only did he not have a vagina, he had a penis and wouldn’t be getting a vagina anytime in the foreseeable future, he lost his shit.  He started screaming, “Daddy I want a vagina!” at top volume and sobbing his little heart out.  Maybe we could give him a knitted naughty vagina like my friend Noodle has for her naughty stuff parties.  He could carry it with him like a security blanket or something.  Which is kinda beyond hilarious to picture really.  This little fella cuddling his knitted vagina during nap-time, hugging it tight during a doctor appointment, hitting a sibling with it during battle.  Lmao!

So, I am totally, like, the queen of wild awesomeness and such.  I totally interacted with dangerous wild animals today with no fear.  Truly!  Okay, maybe they weren’t terribly deadly.  Alright, maybe they were about as deadly and terrifying as puppies.

  baby raccoon day 5.25.15 (3)  baby raccoon day 2

I totally got to hold 5 baby raccoons!!  It was awesome!  They are so adorable and fuzzy and such.  There’s Gus and Bear and Teeny and Tiny and…um…another one.  I ended up covered in baby raccoon claw marks and slobber, my hair was crazy from them crawling all up on my head and under my hair and such.  And I’m pretty sure I have little raccoon hickeys from them trying to suckle my ears and my collarbone and my neck (they also thought there might be food in my hair, my shirt and most of my fingers.)  They’re still very little, so they pretty much think everything should be a source of food.  In the first pic, you can see one of them trying to suckle the ear of its sibling!  My aunt and uncle found them after they had been clearly evicted or abandoned by their mother and, since they’re awesome, they took them in and have been feeding them and such until they can find them a group or person or whatever to take them in.  I so wish I could keep the two littlest ones–they are beyond adorable!  And, unbelievably, I don’t think I’m all that allergic to them!  Obviously, they have fur so I’m at least somewhat allergic to them, but my eyes didn’t swell up and I didn’t have an asthma attack or break out in hives, so that was exciting.  Now I totally want my very own baby raccoon.

I worked from Thursday through Sunday–all Labor day weekend.  During those days, I was reminded, over and over again, why I hate people and want to punch them.  The old man that ripped into me because we didn’t have an employee within his line of sight the second he needed assistance.  He found it utterly unacceptable that one employee was on the register and one was doing various other jobs we are required to do.  That old bastard simply could not believe that we couldn’t just go from aisle to aisle, ready and waiting for customers to need us.  Yep, wanted to punch him.  The lady who barked at me about the ‘pathetic state’ of our gardening selection.  Never mind the fact that I do not work at a gardening store or a store with a big old garden center, that our garden section is crammed into a single, anemic aisle.  She couldn’t believe we didn’t carry the precise trowel she wanted.  Totally wanted to punch her.  And the lady that snarked at me because we were out of those little American flags everyone puts out around Memorial day.  She was there on Saturday.  And she was pissed that she had been to 3 stores and none of them had any of those stupid little flags left.  She proceeded to rant and rave about the deplorable state of our country and the heartlessness of the workers at the stores that couldn’t (or, in her opinion, wouldn’t) magically find her some of these flags.  As she went on and on about how disgusting it was to be unable to find those damn flags on Memorial day weekend, all I could think was, “We sold all of them to the folks that were smart enough to buy the things BEFORE Memorial day weekend, you moron”  Sadly, all I could say is that we were sold out, all while day dreaming of smacking her about the head with one of the big, sturdy American flags we did have in stock.  I loathe the human race.

Randomosity:  Working 4 long days in a row did a number to me.  Me everyday aches and pains are magnified and far worse than I care to admit.  I just wish I could get folks to understand what it’s like to work those long days when you have Fibro and bursitis and all the delightful crap I deal with.  I totally got bit by a box at work the other night–went to fold it up and the damn thing bit me.  I would totally get clothes made for my pet raccoon, and give him a truly grand name of course.  I think my cat has a crush on my pillow pet thingy, which is slightly cute but mostly creepy.  I’m glad my internet is finally working well enough for me to get this blog done.  I was starting to worry that I would forget what I was gonna blog about by the time the internet started working again.  Still not working great, but well enough for blogging and such, so yay.  My Asby family lost their dog but got her back after much worry and evil neighbor issues and hassles galore–but she is safe and sound at home now and I am sooooo glad.  I really like that furry little beasty.  So hugs to all my Asbys, including the amazing Elli!  Only a few more days till my Titanic museum visit!  And my Caron time!  Virginia and I took some stuff out to the cemetery today to put on mom and grandma and aunt Linda and grandma Chuck and aunt Rachel’s graves.  Not finished, but looks much better.  Maybe I should get a fish.  Or maybe a turtle.  It amuses me to think anyone thinks I’m amusing enough to be a stand-up comedian.  I’m not actually funny, I’m just supremely awkward and weird and such, which is amusing for folks.  It’s cool to think people find me amusing, don’t get me wrong, I just wish I was even a tiny bit as amusing as some people think I am.  Although, admittedly, I have my moments.  Sometimes, I’m freaking hysterically hilarious.  Unfortunately, mostly I’m just a big doofus 🙂 

Gotta jam, clam!


I’m Happy To See You’ve Got Your Pants On The Right Way, Funerals Suck Entirely, Being A Douche Just Doesn’t Pay, And Other Ridiculous Ramblings


I’m one of those folks who happens upon randomly awesome comments and latches onto them.  While Skyping with Chloe last night, Carrie sat and talked with me while Chloe went potty.  When Chloe stepped back into the room, Carrie said, all casual-like, yet decidedly cheerfully, “I’m happy to see you’ve got your pants on the right way.”  Now, I knew perfectly well that this was one of those parental type comments and was most likely the result of some sort of inside out/backwards pants incident. The way she said it however, cracked me up.  I couldn’t stop giggling.  All I could think of is someone saying that to random people as they exit a restroom.  Like, someone standing by the bathroom in a bar and saying that to everyone that comes out.  Can you imagine the looks they’d get???  LOL

So I went to a funeral today.  It sucked.  Actually, it was just normal, funeral sad until the end.  I was actually feeling quite pleased with myself for managing not to get all sobby and such.  And then it sucked.  As I sitting there, waiting for the end to free me from the god-awful, uncomfortable chair, they played a final song.  As I heard the first notes, I spun in my chair and stared at my aunt in complete panic.  It was Garth Brooks’, ‘The Dance’, the same song that was played at my mom’s funeral.  Hearing that song in that setting was startlingly distressing.  I more or less lost it.  I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing like a total freak.  First I sobbed all over poor Robby, then Virginia appeared beside me and I started sobbing on her.  I have to admit, I was completely shocked at how freaked out I got.  For a few minutes, it was almost like being at her funeral all over again.  It will be 21 years on the 31st, and, for those few minutes, the pain hit like no time had passed.  The whole incident was unsettling and embarrassing.  But less than it could have been, since my family cried right along with me.

I have a piece of advice for anyone shopping in a retail establishment.  In fact, it’s a good bit of advice for anyone dealing with someone in the service industry.  If you’re displeased with something, don’t be a douche about it.  Being a douche will not only make the poor employee loathe your existence, it makes you look like a total jackass to everyone around you.  If you are curious about a price, just ask.  Don’t go on and on and on and fricking on about how everything should have a price tag because obviously people need to know how much it costs before they buy it.  And when they increasingly irritated employee explains that there had been prices in front of the bags of soil, but they were knocked off when customers pulled the bags off the shelf, do not inform her that good employees would check regularly to make sure the signs stayed in place.  This sort of comment will make the poor, over-worked, under-paid employee want to punch you.  Once again, I hate people.

Randomosity:  I read a lot.  I’m on, like, my 4th book in 5 days.  Whenever I see a post-apocalyptic movie, or read a post-apocalyptic book, I always feel rather perplexed at how few people consider books to be a vital part of essential survival supplies.  I bet it’d be cool to have a pet piranha.  I’d name him Hank, I think.  I worked on my book for a bit tonight.  I’m hungry.  Why do people always talk about how good the dead person looks at a funeral?  I always just think they look, well, dead.  I just added ‘free climbing’ to the list of stuff I will never ever do.  Is it wrong to cheer every time someone gets tased  on Cops?  Aww!  I’m watching an episode now, and the big old cop fella is in a trailer where these old dudes had over 50 cats.  When the old dudes got evicted, they left the cats.  So this big old cop fella is in there and he finds an itty bitty baby kitty and he’s all, “I know baby, we’ll get you out of here.  Yeah, we’ll get you safe.  Poor baby,” in a cooing sort of voice.  It was kinda adorable.  I really need new tennis shoes for work–mine are starting to look downright sad.  Unfortunately, I have yet to win the lottery and good shoes are expensive as hell, so it will be awhile.  I have to work the next four nights–yuck.  Only ten days until the Titanic exhibit thingy!!!  So excited!  I think I’m going to go eat supper now.

Gotta jam, clam!

Happy ‘You Expelled Children/A Child From Your Vagina’ Day, How To Liven Up A Dance Recital, To Catch A Thief, And Other Mind-Numbing Mumblings


I feel it necessary to wish all of you (to whom it is applicable anyway) a happy mom’s day, since it is quite impressive that most of you not only expelled a tiny human from your vagina, you refrain from throttling them on a daily basis.  Go you!  You are a far better person than I.  Granted, I do consider myself a mother to my oh so adorable unsmall cat, but that is totally as maternal as this gal is getting.

I went to Dany’s dance recital today, and I have to say, my niece is not only adorable and smart, she’s also quite the little dancer!  As much as I loathe crowds and public gatherings and all that, I plan on going to as many of these dance shindigs as I possibly can.  And Caron and I came up with a splendid idea for making the recitals more lively.  Okay, so maybe Caron made one little comment and I expanded on it rather alarmingly.  So, here’s the idea:  slip in some flasks filled with your alcoholic beverage of choice and create your very own shot game rules.  For instance, every time a dancer comes onstage in a costume that is so unflattering their instructor should be beaten with a brick, take a shot.  Every time you see a particular dancer make that god-awful duck lips face, take a shot.  Every time a dancer stops dancing to wave or pick their leotard out of their behind or pick their nose, take a shot.  You get the idea.  So yeah, got to hang out with my buddy Caron and, as usual, we amused me greatly. And I got to hang out with Miss Danyka between the performances a little bit, which was awesome.  I think my buddy Caron and I need to figure out a way I can see them a bit more frequently.

So we had a nasty little thief issue at work last week.  This vile little skank came in with an empty bag, loaded the bag up with stuff from the shelves, then came up and said she had a return.  Since she had no receipt, she was given a gift card.  She did this 2 days in a row.  However, she was a complete moron.  Both times, she returned enough that she had to show her ID, giving us her name and address.  The first time, she returned one thing, the second time, she returned much more.  Her biggest mistake though?  Screwin’ with a certain selectively social, rather snarky blogger.  I allowed the first return, even though I instinctively felt something was hinky.  After I found out she had returned the next day and returned even more stuff, it became my mission to catch her.  I sat in the office, reviewing our store camera footage, for HOURS.  But I got her!  I found one bit where you can see her coming in with a bag that very obviously did not contain the large-ish item she returned, and another bit where the camera caught her actually putting something in the bag that she proceeded to ‘return’ minutes later.  I got to call the cops and everything!  Sadly, I was not there the night she came in again and the cops were called again.  On a positive note, the skank is banned from our stores.

Randomosity:  My cat is such an ungrateful little fur-faced child!  He totally didn’t get me a darn thing for mother’s day!  I totally met some new amusing folks while over at my pal Krystal’s place the other night.  I found them quite entertaining and such.  It was particularly entertaining to see how amusing they thought I was.  It continually cracked me up to see them cracking up over my stories and such.  I love it when I’m able to amuse folks.  I really need new shoes.  I think if I ever actually went to a Piggly Wiggly, I’d probably end up giggling over the name the whole time.  I hate makeup and I’m super proud of the fact that I STILL don’t wear it.  I was informed once that by the time I was 28 I would be wearing makeup every day.  Yeah, not so much.  Pickles are cucumbers soaked in evil, so it’s probably a good thing I dislike them.  I saw this great button/pin I totally want–it has just one lone penguin saying, “I’m fucking freezing”, which made me laugh hella harder than it should have I suppose.  I also saw these awesome socks that have a delightful little message one the side along with a picture of a little girl with in umbrella.  In the top picture she has the umbrella, in the lower picture the umbrella has been torn from her hands by the wind and she is getting soaked by the rain.  between the 2 pictures it says “fuck this shit!”  Again, laughed way harder than was appropriate.

Gotta bail, quail!