What is it With Old Men????

This past Saturday, our family went to Oktoberfest in Newark, Delaware. (I know, it's still September, but what the hell?) - Anyway, I got hit on by FOUR old guys. I'm 44, so to me, anything OLD is older than about 60-ish. And not only that, but they did this right in front of my 69 year old mother - who they SHOULD have been hitting on, not me. Oh, and did I mention I wear a wedding ring? Damn old perverts.

Here's some news to you old farts - we don't want to see your wrinkled up balls, your gross nose-hair that's 8 inches long, your one yellow tooth, your hearing aids, or help you with your walkers and your orthopedic shoes - GET IT?

Feeling-younger-and-younger-Fatima!!!

Apparently, even Jesus Had Bad Days!

From Natalie Dee's other comic strip: http://www.marriedtothesea.com/

Heretic Fatima

My kinda daycare! Ha

Mean Fatima

Mom's advice to me and my sister

No wonder we have issues!

Daddy Long-Legs

I heard a rumor many years ago, that daddy long legs, ususaly thought to be harmless are actually one of the deadliest/toxic forms of spiders - as in you'll die a horrible painful death if you were to ever get bitten by one. Here's the glitch. There mouths are so minuscule, they can't open them up wide enough to bite anyone. What an odd "gift" to give to this little, otherwise harmless creature.

However, my new stance is this: genetic anomalies happen all the time. What if his mother and father had large mouths, and he/she got an extremely wide or big enough mouth? Then what? So now I kill them all the time. No remorse.

Not a very interesting blog, but hey - kids are born with their intestines out of their bodies, snakes and lizards are sometimes born with two heads. Why can't a daddy long-legs have an extraordinarily mouth? I don't know about you - but I'm not taking any chances!

Arachnophobia Fatima!!!

I did it AGAIN!

Didn't I just say last month that I will NEVER, under ANY circumstance, EVER chaperone another pre-school field trip? So, what did I do? I said yes. And for those of you who know me, you know I'm no stranger to the word, NO! No, I don't want to eat at that restaurant. No, I don't want to have sex right now. No, you cannot stay out past midnight. No, you cannot have more money for clothes. No, I don't want to help you move and then paint your fucking house.

But see - when it comes to Riley - well, all bets are off. She looks at me with those big brown baby eyes, and I actually become loving and nice.

At least when we went to the amusement park, the kids could yell and scream to their hearts' content. Guess where we're all going on December 6th? Just take a wild guess. The freaking Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall to see The Nutcracker. What the hell kind of toddler food do they serve there? Goldfish crackers with caviar? Cucumber and peanut butter finger sandwiches? And I'm sure they're going to expect these little rug rats to be quiet. Right.....

Well, I guess you all know what I'll be writing about on December 7th, the day after. That is, if I'm not in jail. My kid will probably jump up on stage and try to dance along with them like they're The Wiggles or something. Maybe the dancers will get some horrible strain of strep throat and they'll have to cancel the show. One can only hope......

Stupid, stupid, stupid Fatima

Drugs Rock!

Cartoonist, Natalie Dee, must be my long lost twin. Ok, my long lost much younger sister. Anyway, when I went to my shrink several months ago, he put me on Lexapro for depression. I've heard of Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft. But I got Lexapro. Today, I was looking through Natalie's archives (which can be found at www.nataliedee.com) and found this. Amusing.......and true! I just don't give much of a fuck! Ha!

Dear God!

A Walrus Penis. It's not Tommy Lee, but still..........

Why Are People Stupid?

That's all. Just why?

Were they dropped on their heads as infants?

Did they do too many drugs in the 70's?

Is something mis-wired in their brain?

Too much loud rock-n-roll?

Were they sick on the "common sense" day in 7th grade?

And here's the really strange thing - THEY THINK THEY'RE NORMAL!!!!

Give me a heroin addict, alcoholic, bulimic any day. I can handle that. I can't handle stupid anymore. Someone asks me a stupid question or says something stupid, I just shake my head and walk away. Not very nice, I admit, but much better than the obscenities that would spew from my mouth should I say something in return.

Today I read that some idiot senator got caught trying to engage in sex in a men's public restroom. Um, YOU'RE A SENATOR!!!! People might actually know who you are. You just might be embarrassed if you're caught. If might even piss off your wife. Good grief.

Oy!

Fed-up Fatima

Testing

Just testing my blog; it was acting funky yesterday......

Out here...

For My Sister - The Baby-Corn Hater

http://www.nataliedee.com/

Chocolate Hell

So, last week I had this crazy idea it would be fun times to chaperone my 4 year old's preschool class to Hershey Amusement Park. Turns out a better day would have been had if I had decided to have major surgery with no anesthesia; perhaps have my spleen or one of my feet removed.

We got there and it was about 93 degrees, but with the humidity I think the weatherman said "it feels like 4000 degrees." He was right.

Now, for those of you who know me, you know I love kids. My own. And only my own. Passionately and fiercely. I love my nieces and nephews (Will, Alison, Ben & Caroline!), and if my sister ever gets off her drunk ass and decides to have any - I'll love them as well. And I love Cow's kids (Cali and Jacob). But that's it. Absolutely it; no more. I don't do playgroups, I don't babysit. I can barely stand my own children half the time, let alone yours. I don't remember when my own took their first steps or cut their first tooth, so for God's sake, quit telling me about when yours did.

So here I am in the blistering heat with 10,000 screaming 4 year olds who cannot wait in lines, can't decide which ride to ride, want to ride the same ride over and over again, and as if all that weren't bad enough - did I mention we were at HERSHEY PARK!?!? They were all on a serious chocolate high, which for those of you who aren't parents, is like crack cocaine to a toddler.

Hershey Park just opened a water park area in the last year or two. Oh, goodie. Now I have to make sure none of these sugared up brats drown. Oy. Just as we were all getting acclimated to the water and I'd saved about 7 kids from near 911-calls, it pours rain like in Noah's day and we all have to leave the park. The kids are screaming and unhappy because we have to leave. Inwardly I'm thrilled. I grew up in Southern California and have done my time at amusement parks.

We all pile back on the huge yellow school bus (!) and drive 2 hours home. Wet. In an air-conditioned bus. With chocolate smeared crack addict 4 year olds. Walked right in my front door, took a Xanax, a hot bath and went to bed early. Next time I have to chaperone a trip, I will pray fervently to God the night before that I'm struck with the "Explosive Diarrhea Plague."

Fatima

A drunk midget...Are you SURE?

I just read yesterday that the father from "Little People, Big World" was arrested on his 2nd DUI. Have you ever seen him walk with his walking canes? Are they sure he was drunk or just trying to walk in a straight line with his limp? At least that's the defense I'd use.

I wonder if he had to stand on a stool to get his mug shot taken. My sister and I are infatuated with midgets. I'm curious about them and she's scared to death of them.

Perverted Fatima wants to know if all their bodily parts are in proportion to their bodies............but then that's how my mind works.

Oh, well, poor Matt.

Outta here, Fatima

Time Off

I needed a much needed break from the busy-ness that is my life. Between my grumpy husband, my anxiety stricken mother and her lack of cooking skills, my 19 year old moody daughter with a smart mouth, my 4 year old toddler and two graduate classes, I had to no time to blog. More to follow later when I have something interesting to share.

Busy, busy Fatima

Death's Doorstep.....or Entertainment Center

We've all pondered our own deaths. Some more than others. Ahem. But I think today I found the perfect way to preserve my loved ones when they go. Or, they can "do unto me" the same way. You can have your loved one's rotting corpse preserved in this nice little ensemble - WHILE YOU WATCH THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL!!!! What on earth could be better than that I ask you?

So, imagine - - now your spouse is, uh, taking a dirt nap and you bring home a date. You can sit on the couch and make out right in front of "Door Number One." How cool is that? And notice the little cubby holes for books and picture frames.

Once again - poke my eyes out; I've seen it all.

Fatima-in-the-box

The Perfect Afternoon

This pretty much says it all. This is where I want to spend my afternoon. I'm going to go ask Akbar at 7-11 if he'll let me hang out in the cooler. He's pretty cool; he'll probably let me. It's 100 degrees in Baltimore today, and I'm still mad at "Pig" my husband - so this will work out perfectly!

Thirsty Fatima

Husbands Suck

That's all. If you don't think so know, you will. They're pigs and liars and fatmouths. No wonder God created them first. I can hear Him/Her now, "oops," gotta fix that! And then woman was made!

Fatima hates men

Mom's Home Cooking

Oh dear. I've let the monster loose. I took my mom shopping with me Saturday morning. She made the comment on the way home, "Do you guys like meatloaf?" A little too quickly, and without near enough thought, I replied, 'yeah.'

Oh, Fatima. Have you learned nothing in your sad, sorry existence on earth? Don't you remember the food substances of your youth?

Let's see. Friday, I got home from work and mom had made "Pudding from Hell." This recipe consists of Lemon Jell-O, cottage cheese, Miracle Whip, shredded carrots, chopped up red onion, bell peppers and celery. No. I am not kidding.

Saturday was the meatloaf incident. I do like meatloaf. My meatloaf. Or, my husband's. But not the thing she made the other night with a glob of ketchup running down the center of it.

Last night was her version of spaghetti, which would make most true Italians weep over the Madonna and say 10 Hail Mary's.

How do I get her to stop before she makes her infamous Frito Pie? If I were mean, I'd tell her that she's been looking a little pale lately and that she might want to go lay down........for a few days.........hmmm....

Fatima w/clogged arteries

what we all fear.........

I Rebuke My Last Entry.....Temporarily...

It's just far too much change and stress to try and become veg while my mother is in the house; my husband is always in a bad mood; so is my 19 year old (moody as hell, I tell ya!); and toddler, well, she's a toddler. I think once my mom gets her own place and my life can settle down a bit, I'll try it for at least 5-6 days per week, and then go from there to see what I think, how I like it, what my body does, etc.

I also am busy with grad school right now, and working in a career that's just not totally fulfilling to me. So, Fatima is going to quit pondering so much right now and learn to live a little bit more.

Peace. Fatima

I'm Thinking of Becoming a Vegetarian....

.....only for about a 6-9 month period to see how I like it, handle it, etc. Plus, it will annoy my mother and piss off my husband and kids. See how everything always works out? I will be ambitious and start this weekend prior to July 4. I can always eat pasta salad, right?. My husband calls "them" Vaginatarians and thinks his cute little nick-name is a hoot. Okay, it was humorous the first time, about 5 years ago - but let it go.

My mother will totally freak because she doesn't read food labels and cannot figure out what she's to eat for her diabetes, cholesterol, heart, etc. Announcing I'm now a vegetarian should be comical.

Eggplant-eating-Fatima!

British Invasion

It's not bad enough that every television show and magazine article is full of her pictures. You know the ones: they're always "I'm bored, pouting, but I'll likely kick your ass if you don't take my picture" - anyway, now the former Posh Spice has her own blog. Not that I've ever done a damn thing to "deserve" my own blog - hell this is America. If a dog had opposable thumbs, I suppose he or she could have their own as well. But do take 30 seconds (believe me, that's all you'll need) and go to it. It's more of a "look at me fest" than a blog. In fact I can't really remember if I saw any full sentences at all.............. There were no pictures of her husband or her sons, but there was one of her holding the proverbial superstar miniature dog. Here's one of the 28 pictures of her I counted looking perpetually pissed off and bored.

http://www.dvbstyle.com/news/index.html

Fatima-needs-an-Ale

Fatima Diverges in a Wood

Fatima is no longer wondering about, looking for, or seeking advice about good food, good recipes, how to exercise. I mean, really, I've kind of known a lot about that for a long time. It's motivation I need and the will and desire to do it. So I will still keep this website just because it's fun for me to write down stuff and find funny pictures (kind of like journaling) - but I guess I'll change my "mission statement." I guess I feel like the smoker who knows what he/she does is bad for them, but continues. Guess we all feel we're gonna live forever, eh? Anyway, I'm sure weight, gyms, food, etc., will still show up - but lately it just hasn't been my huge focus. I think I'm becoming much more "health" conscious than "weight" conscious. That's a good thing I suppose.

(Speaking of food - it smells as though someone is cooking a dead goat in our office microwave. WTF? At least kill your animals before you eat them. I think they seasoned "it" with stagnant water and dirty socks. OY!!!)



BTW - If you'd like to leave comments, just come up with nickname (you can let me know later in an email or phone call what it is so I know who's leaving me the comment; you can also just do anonymous). Your comments will show up - NOT your email - only your comments. Then hit "Publish" and it will show up.





Fatima

Another Funny....

I'd never wipe again...EVER!

Some People are Just Never Happy

....like me. You may, or may not, remember past posts when I expressed that I was bored with life. So, what do I do? I make my life so freaking busy that the drug companies who make anti-anxiety meds can't keep up with my need for them. And I don't always do so good with controlled substances. My tendency is to believe that if 1 is good, then 4 will be better. I've really been a lot better about that though.

Balance. How and when am I ever going to learn? Too little and I'm bored and listless, feeling as though I'm contributing nothing to life; learning nothing; feeling blah and lazy and depressed. Too much, and I feel that overwhelming need to be perfect, get everything done, be super-mom, super work person, etc.

Can't be done. Now, I long for lazy nights, in my Hello Kitty jammy pants, in front of the TV, cuddling my toddler instead of being in these stupid classes I'm in. Too much reading, too much writing, just too, too much. I think I've discovered or uncovered a nasty truth about myself: I want to be lazy, but I don't want to feel lazy or have others think I'm lazy. But truly, I want to do nothing. My heart now belongs to a 4 year old, not to academia.

Fatima-loves-Beana

Four!!!!

No, I don't mean what you shout out on the golf course when you're about to bean someone in the head with a golfball. My toddler turned 4 this week. 4!! Un-freaking-believable. That means I'll be 44 in another week or two - which is also unbelievable because I still feel about 22 (and many of my smart-ass friends and relatives would say I still act 22).

She was given many dinosaurs, a skateboard (!) by her older sister who will be accompanying me to the ER when the need arises, Barbie stuff, Dora stuff, horse stuff, puppy stuff, clothes, the usual. She was thrilled with all of it.

My favorite present was the EZ Bake Oven I bought her. I had one when I was little. I don't believe my other two daughters had one, so this brought back many memories. Like the time me and my dad made pretzels. He tasted one and immediately pronounced, "Well. That tasted like shit." I'm still not crazy about pretzels to this day....

Anyway, last night Riley wanted to make chocolate chip cookies in her new EZ Bake Oven. Easy enough, eh? Oh. No. Recipe was simple enough. Put the tiny bag of mix in a bowl and add 3/4 teaspoon water. What does her mother do? I put in 3 teaspoons of water (I was VERY tired) and then wondered why this shit was so watery.... So instead of baking cookies for about 8 minutes, she had a chocolate chip cake that took about 20 minutes to bake. AND, as if that wasn't bad enough, I tried to get the damn thing out of the oven with the spatula they provide (which, by the way, looks exactly like a pooper-scooper for a cat litter box - see picture) and the thing went flying across the room and hit the wall - landing beautifully on the counter upside down. My mother was laughing so hard, I swear her false teeth were on the verge of falling out of her mouth.

You see my sister and her husband are like gourmet cooks. They own every known kitchen gadget known to mankind, make their own flour, pasta, cook wonderful sounding things, etc., and here her financial analyst sister can't tell 3/4 of a teaspoon from 3 teaspoons and then can't even operate a freaking EZ Bake oven. Good night, Irene!

Good news: I'm still my 4 year old's hero. She ate her chocolate chip "cake" and said it was yummy! We had yet another party for her at the park today, with more junk food and sugar. I feel like a walking zit.

Fatima-the-four-year-old's-hero!!!

Help.......

That's all. I just need help.

Today, I feel like a sad, sad, sad little girl.

I need:

Help with homework

Help with housework

Help with husband

Help dealing with my kids

Help with anger & frustration

Help with my yard

Help with my mom

Help with nutrition

Help with rejuvination

Fatima in need of help and a smile and maybe even a hug

Sometimes......

Dysfunction, dissatisfaction, unhappiness, bad relationships with kids and significant others, failure, restlessness, weariness, bad self image, etc., can just make you want to check out permanently. There are days it's hardly worth the effort because the effort is never appreciated or even noticed. Sometimes no matter what you do, or what you don't do, no one is ever happy, not even you. People always so quick to point out fault and all things bad. But very slow to ever say anything positive, loving or gracious. I knew that in my childhood, and now I find it has reared its ugly head again in my family. I wonder why that is. And I wonder what or who it is that brings us back around to deciding to giving life another chance.....

Fatima Ponders........

You Can Tell I'm Bored......

......when I start posting this crap. I finished two major projects today and just can't bear the thought of starting another one (oh, and I'm off tomorrow anyway for toddler's 4th birthday; hee). So here are the awards for: What the hell were they thinking??





goose or bride....or both?

Pink, Marilyn Manson or Hannibal Lector?

and not to be outdone:

Banana Woman!

Fatima-the-obviously-out-of-touch-with-fashion

New Desk!!!

My sister's an attorney and her birthday is coming up - her office threw her a party and bought her this lovely new chair. It cuts down on potty breaks thereby better utilizing time management - an important factor in law, research, etc.

I don't know about you - but I'm impressed as hell!

Bored Fatima

ARNIE'S DA MAN!!!!

I don't know too many famous people - well, ok I don't know any - but my bro-in-law is up for like 4 (count 'em bitches, FOUR) Emmy's this weekend for a documentary he did.

Way to go - you are the bomb and inspiration to all humankind.

Have big fun - and be sure to thank me in your acceptance speech(es). Because as I've reminded folks many times...............IT'S ALL ABOUT ME.

You go!

Love, Fatima

School, Family & Violence

So here I find myself once again taking graduate level courses and the emphasis is on the "es" in courses as in more than one.

For Christmas, I'm buying all my family members baseball bats so that when I bring up the subject of school, they can commence the new holiday traditional family beatings upon me.

Let's see:

• elderly mother (just had heart attack and has anxiety over whether the mail comes at 2:00 or 2:01)


• cat (eeww - mentioned that earlier)


• Three year old who's 4th birthday is THIS WEDNESDAY! Have I planned a party, sent out invitations, ordered a cake? Oh, hell no. I think it will be at the park. Hopefully it will rain, we can just all come home, open presents, eat cake and take a nap.


• A 19 year old going on 40 with the mouth of Maude for those of you who can remember that show.


• A 24 year old who's husband just got stationed (AGAIN) in Afghanistan and she's under some anxiety issues as well this time. She'll be here in August. Apparently she'll be sleeping in the dryer as we've run out of bedding.


• Oh, a full time job. They have the audacity to think that me showing up isn't good enough. They actually expect me to WORK when I get there. Bastards.


• A husband who H-A-T-E-S his new job - and we get to hear about it.............often. God love him.

Ok, thanks for letting me vent. Oh, and how did I deal with this stress? By eating a Tollhouse Ice Cream Sandwich - which I think is 3 weeks' worth of Weight Watchers points. They invented a fucking birth control pill..............where's the pill that makes you slim after a few months? I just don't get it.

That which does not kill us only makes us stronger..............and crazier. This too shall pass.

Venting Fatima (much like Waltzing Matilda)

Feline Frustration

Ok, I really will eventually get off this kick about my mother and her cat (!) who just recently moved in, but I have to vent. First off, I love animals - even cats - I'm just not a "cat person." Meaning that I'm more of a "dog person." They do what you tell them, they love and lick you; follow commands, ride with you in your car, you can walk them, etc.

This cat's food smells like tuna (bad tuna); and I won't even get into what the turdballs smell like.

My mother cannot/will not get over the fact that some of the senior housing she's looked at so far has deposits (either yearly or monthly) for pets. Well, yes, mom - pets scratch things, make stains on carpet, make noises, etc.

And we can't let our dog in while the cat is living with us, cuz she's a little, uh, aggressive. Not with people - but so far she's killed a mouse and a bird - so God only knows what she'd do to this poor cat!

Fatima-the-temporary- cat-owner

P.S. The picture of the cat is what I think my mom's cat would look like if saw our dog!

Barenaked Ladies

Now, don't get all excited people. I'm talking about the rock/pop group, not actual barenaked ladies. I heard them this morning singing "If I had a Million Dollars," and thought of my girl, Heidi. Glad to hear things are working out for you, girl, both personally and professionally. I miss ya. Puh-leeze consider coming back to the Corps - we have ALL kinds of vacancies.

We need to plan a get-together, but every person in my family's birthday is in June! (Can you even believe Riley is going to 4 next week? Oy!) So, I'm kinda booked up. Maybe we could each take half day off work and get blitzed (ok, just tipsy...) over at the Wharf Rat.

Fatima

THE LATEST DIET!!!

I stopped at the famous fast food joint, "BK." you all can figure that one out for yourselves and ordered a jumbo Turbo Coffee. Tried like hell to take tiny sips and did manage about 2 or 3 without incident. But then I forgot how scalding this crap is (and it's really not crap, it's quite good) and took a huge gulp.

After much painful shrieking noises and then cuss words, I decided that rather than sue "BK," I will just do this several times per day and won't be able to eat anything thereafter.

Good idea?

Third-degree-burned Fatima

Goth Jeopardy/For Cow Cuz It's Funny

by www.NatalieDee.com

Another Trip Survived

And I wish by "trip" that I meant an LSD one - but alas, no. I mean trip as in "road trip." Now, normally I'm up for a good road trip. But this one was with my anxiety-ridden mother and her cat who wouldn't quit shedding. I'm still picking cat hairs out of my back teeth.

I had to hear all about her medicines; when, where and how she takes them and what for, why, etc. I had to hear what her blood count was every time she took it, as well as her blood pressure. To read this, you'd think she was near death, but no. She's healthy as a horse for the most part. I hate to think what all medication she'll be one when she's truly unhealthy one day.

I had to hear about every one of her friends, neighbors, churchgoers (both past and present); their faults as well as their good points (but mostly their faults) to the point where I'm sure I wasn't a safe driver because my eyes just glazed over and I was daydreaming about beaches, pina coladas and handsome movie stars.

But the worst (other than that freaking cat!) was waiting for her to get ready each and every morning. No organization whatsoever. Or, she'll attempt to be organized, but then forget where she put everything that she so-called organized the night before. I'm wanting to get on the road each morning no later than about 7:00 a.m. - but nooooooo. we're still looking for her book, her glasses, the cat's water dish, her hair clips and "Oh, do you think we have enough bottled water for the trip?" questions. Right. Like they don't sell bottled water at EVERY gas station and convenience store from California to Maryland. As a joke I was going to bring her a 40 ounce beer and announce that they didn't sell bottled water - but I managed to refrain. Only because I would have had to drink said beer and probably would have been pulled. My luck.

Anyway, enough of the pity party of my trip from hell. I'm back to my home, my babies, my Baltimore, my job, the Internet, familiarity. And more importantly, I have plenty of Xanax and wine for when my mother anxiously worries over something.....uh.....which is about every 2 to 3 minutes. Seriously. You just don't know her. But I'm serious.

I Want to be a Lab Rat

I want to do nothing all day long and have people stare at me and write up stuff all day which will entail a lot about nothing. I want to watch TV and inwardly laugh about Lucy Ricardo, Gilligan and Dr. Phil. Then, I'll itch and scratch to their amusement; perhaps even lick myself a few times. I may have to, uh, practice that. I don't think that exactly comes naturally to humans.

Think about it: no nagging spouse or kids, flop out a teat and let all the kiddies eat to their hearts' content; no one wanting any money; no car troubles; no laundry; no bills; no in-laws (except for the ones you haven't eaten yet); no jobs; no college loans; no lawn work; no trips to the Principal's office; no trips to jail (!); no school clothes shopping!

The only negative I can think of is that I think when the scientists are done with lab rates, the rats become a snake's lunch. Bastards.

Overwhelved, Ratty Fatima

Oh, Kashmir...

...everything will be alright. Mommy promises. Everything bad feels like it going to happen to you but chances are that none of it will. I've been through this a thousand times - and not to take away from your experience, you will be okay. Trust me just like you did when you were a little girl and everything was always okay.

You need:

1. a good yelling at from me over some random thing like I cant find my favorit belt; (just so you know you're home)

2. A good knock-down drag-out with Alex

3. a pedicure

4. One of my famous margaritas

5. Cold Stone ice cream

6. Long, interrupted naps

7. Panera Bread

8. Mexican candy

9. Denny's breakfast.

10. Lots and lots of love from Beana.

11. A good yoga course or meditation course

See you soon. Love, mum

P.S. The two pictures are a few things you have to look forward to.

The Last Week of My So-Called Normal Life

Yep, this is it. I should be one of those guys walking around with billboards in front and back of me proclaiming, "The End is Near." This is the last week of my normal, sorta quiet life at home with hubby and toddler.

A week from tomorrow, I have to fly to Southern California; pick up my mother; and then drive across the country back home. God only knows how this is going to seriously pan out. We'll be alone on the road. Alone. Together. For about 4 days. Hopefully, it will be over in 4 days. It has to be. I have to get back to work; back to school; back to my husband and my kids; back to my normal life.

But, is it going to be normal any more? No. She's moving in with us until she finds suitable housing. We already have kid #2 home now because we all agreed it was too expensive for room & board when she can just commute to school. Then, kid #1 is coming home too sometime later this summer. Oy. My husband literally said these words to me last night, "Where are all these people sleeping? And, I hope you know that NONE of them are sleeping with us!" I can't imagine why he wouldn't want my 68 year old mother in bed with us. Maybe he'll make an exception if we just make a pallet for her on the floor with a little sleeping bag; we'll pretend we have another new-born.....

I love them all, but I'm already looking forward to naps I won't get. I don't want to have to cook and/or clean for all these people. Is it too unrealistic to expect that they'll all wait on me?!!! Perhaps, they'll all just step up to the plate and things will be wildly fun, silly, full of laughter and memories. But just in case they're not, I'm getting my meds re-filled this Wednesday.

Fatima-the-Optimistic

Oh, My, My, My, My.....

I first heard this on the news on my way in to work yesterday and shook my head, but then the events of the day erased this memory (although I don't know how it could). Apparently, Amy Fisher (the Long Island Lolita) and Joey Buttofucco - and perhaps even Amy's new husband, Joey's ex-wife and Joey-the-Tool's new wife are all going to be on a reality show together. Now this can't be fully substantiated. I mean, I've read it on several Internet sites and heard it on the radio - but that's it folks. It's not like I've seen their contracts or anything.

When and where and how are we going to realize we've gone just a tad too far? We already have ER scenes on the Discovery channel which get pretty gruesome. I watch them, but I kinda wish they weren't on at dinner time. There's Skylab where the lesbian owner of the gym, makes out with every female within 20 feet of her (and this is no anti-gay statement, but honey, keep it in your pants for at least 30 minutes). There are at least 72 plastic surgery shows on at any given time. The Animal Planet shows grisly scenes of pet operations. It's like we're now into our "Faces of Death" reality culture. What next? We capture Bin Laden and let him have a reality show on how to fold white robes & turbans, and handle 29 wives and 57 children? Charles Manson could host one too; if we could only understand his incoherent ramblings... Reality got boring, as it usually does, so now we must interject death, blood, and gruesome-ness in all its forms, etc., to keep us entertained.

But I digress. Back to Amy and Joey, who I thought were L-O-N-G forgotten. I cannot even begin to imagine what a dinner or a conversation might revolve (oops, no pun intended) around. Naturally, amongst couples having a few glasses of wine, things like money, sex, local crimes, etc., are discussed. Okay, well they were the leading force of ALL OF THAT back in the late 80s, early 90s. I can't even remember the exact time frame now of when all of this went down. All I know is - Dear Lord - can you think of anything at all more awkward than sitting across from some old dude you used to screw for money and his wife who you SHOT IN THE FACE? Oy vey Jose! And what are they going to do with all the kids during this show? I wouldn't particularly be predisposed to being courteous to someone who shot my mother in the face and almost killed her And what about Amy's new husband? I'll betcha 10-to-1 he doesn't allow any handguns in the house.

But, here it comes............the really sad part. I will watch every bleeping second of it. Not because I'm hooked to reality TV. I can proudly declare I have never watched not even one episode of Survivor or American Idol. Oh, no. I go for the low and the dirty: Dog the Bounty Hunter, Flav-O-Flav, The Osbournes (c,mon - everyone loved Ozzy even if we couldn't understand him), and now Gene Simmons' Family Jewels. So, it is with great sadness that I confess that if this show airs, I will be sitting in front of the TV with 94% fat-free popcorn taking it all in.

Fatima-the-Pathetic

Fatima's Not-So-Secret Crush

It's a given in our home that if any of the CSIs (Las Vegas, Miami or NY) are on - don't bother mom. Mom loves them all, but the original, as with most things in life, is by far the best. Nothing beats a good Gil Grissom mystery on ANY day.

And part of why I love the show so much is simply because of his character. I think I've developed one of those stupid 12 year old crushes. In my puberty days, we had crushes on David Cassidy, Bobby Sherman, Fonzie, etc. My oldest had a thing for awhile over Mr. Pitt, and my middle child's room was once covered in posters of Mr. Timberlake (barf-ola). I'll have to wait another decade to see who child #3 has crushes on.

But, you see - I'm 43 years old!!! I'm happily married - even though that saying is sometimes referred to as an oxymoron. I'm not supposed to still have crushes, am I?? But alas, I do. I'm still moving and breathing, and gleefully looking forward to tonight's double episode. God forbid I smell smoke, cuz I'll go down in the flames before I'll miss tonight's episodes.

Fatima-Loves-Gil

Me & Cow, Together Forever

Paula - I just figured out a way we can be joined at the hip - of course we'll have to show up half time at your work, half time at mine; share chores and kids, and let's not even get into how we'll manage sex with our husbands......

Fatima Misses Cow

I got a B!!

I always strive for A's when I take courses, and in my 20s, this B would have made me cry - but I don't give the two necessary shits anymore about perfection that I used to. I almost cried because I was so happy I got the B!!! I thought for sure I would fail this course - thank you, thank you thank you!!!!

Happy (but a little less sharp) Fatima

Interesting Little Site...

So I'm perusing the Internet tonight (it's 12:15 a.m. EST). I took a nap earlier and apparently it was a little too long because now I'm finding it hard to to get sleepy.

I came across: http://drstrangesales.blogspot.com/

Hilarious. All about the odd and strange things people put out there to the public on the internet to sell. That, in and of itself, isn't so odd. I mean who hasn't seen some bizarre shit for sale on ebay? But here's what they found - this is unedited; I copied and pasted:

Rent-a-dildo! Ewwwwwww

This has to be one of the scariest sites I have ever seen! If you've ever heard of Intelliflix you'll know the kind of service this site offers but instead of giving you as many dvd rentals as you want for a fixed membership fee these guys give you a choice of hundreds of different types of dildos to rent. And send back. For other people to rent. As if that wasn't enough they actually had to make a change in their policys and put this notice on their site:"Effective immediately, we will cease lending anal sex toys to customers. This includes butt plugs, anal beads, anal probes, and dual-penetration dildos. If you currently have one of these types of rental toys, you may keep it without charge as a courtesy accommodation." (That is just an excerpt.. There was more..)

Shocked and Amazed Fatima

A Little Help, Please

Had a lovely family bonding day in Baltimore today. It was a warm, sunny 87 degrees and we took our 3 year old to the Maryland Science Center. They have two huge exhibits going on right now - one on space/planets/the solar system, and the other one is on dinosaurs. This kid loves dinosaurs as much as she loves her mommy, Happy Meals and her baby dolls. She knows all of their names, whether or not they were carnivores, and now she's beginning to learn the various periods of their existence a well (Mesozoic, Jurassic, etc.)

Any-hoo we had a great 4-hour long trip through space and dug through sand to find bones, and ate hot dogs and popcorn at the IMAX dinosaur movie. All was well in the world.

We walked back to the car and she was very pensive; obviously something was on her mind and I just assumed she was disappointed that we left and that she was in need of a nap. I asked her what was wrong.

Riley: Mommy - I don't wanna be a "vettinarian" any more. Is that okay?

Me: Honey, of course it's okay, you can do whatever you want to do when you grow up. What do you think you want to do now if you're not going to be a veterinarian?

Riley: I'm going to be a Paleontologist.

A paleontologist! She's three. I need help immediately if not sooner. I'm no retard, but this kid amazes me. I know every parent thinks their child is a genius - but I'm here to tell you - this kid is a genius. How the hell do you raise someone who's already smarter than you at 3????

Slow Bus Fatima!

Weighty Issue

So the other night, I brought up emotional eating to my therapist. He recommended a couple of books - which will mean a lovely trip to Barnes and Noble as well as an iced coffee from Starbucks - Yay!

He suggested that the yo-yo dieting, putting on an taking off of weight my entire adult life could possibly be a rebellious way of telling my father to screw off - since he's the one who used to stay on me, night and day, over my weight. This could be my way of "showing" him I'll do what I want, eat what I want, when i want, etc. Well, I sure showed him, didn't I???

But really, who is it showing anything to except the poor person standing behind me in a line thinking "baby's got BACK, and not in a good way like the song implies!

Don't know for sure; it was just one of his theories, but I'm giving it some thought. I also eat when I'm happy, bored, sad, lonely mad - emotional eating. That's what I'm going to look for at B&N this weekend. Maybe I could just take up non-stop gum chewing a la Britney Spears (except I don't think I'll be shaving my head), until my teeth fall out. that will be attractive!

Emotional Fatima

Resident Douchebags

Yep; every office, neighborhood, place of worship, club, family, etc., has them. Hate to say it guys (this is just my perspective cuz I'm a girl) - but they're usually men....usually. These DBs are the ones who, for the life of them, cannot look above your boobs, they won't open the door for you (and I don't care that I am a feminist - it's just good manners); they take the last cup of coffee and then apparently go brain-dead because they can't seem to make the next pot for others; they always use over-used corporate terms like "synergy," "thinking outside the box," and "brainstorming;" they're always oh, so busy as though the rest of the world doesn't also work and have interests that take up our time as well; they interrupt conversations; they never donate to anything in the office; they leave before the bill comes at restaurants - OR - they'll throw down a $10 or a $20 and then leave when their portion of the bill was MUCH higher, which means not only did someone else have to cover their lunch/drinks for them, we get to pick up the DB's portion of the tip as well.

I've been married my entire adult life, but I've heard some rather DB stories from my single friends who have been the unfortunate recipients of some DB's actions on dates - running out of gas; no handle on the inside of the car to get out (!); forgetting wallet; expecting sex 15 minutes into the date; talking non-stop about the ex, forgetting to mention his wife - you know, little things like that.

I'm pretty lucky I suppose; right now I have only one DB in my office; one in my neighborhood and two at my church - that's not so bad. This all started today when one DB (from a different office; not mine) looked at a picture of my 19 year old daughter and asked about her....and yes, he's more than old enough to be her father. But anyway, I told him she's majoring in Business/Economics. He guffawed (don't see that word much, do ya?) and said, "Nah; she should get into modeling." Riggghhhhttttt..........so she can just look pretty for men, weigh 78 pounds and fret because she doesn't weigh 75 (but she can always take laxatives to get rid of those last 3 pounds), wear someone else's clothes who get all the fame, glory and money, and then be a total burnout when she's somewhere between 25 - 29 because that's when all the new 14 -17 year olds take over as supermodels.

And then - as if that wasn't bad ENOUGH, he asked me if she'd ever won any beauty pageants. Beauty pageants!!!! Oh, sweet mother of Buddha. He said this to a known feminist!! I looked at him like he had 8 heads and said "I don't even allow that crazy antiquated shit on the TV in my house, are you kidding me? Rating women on their looks and their ability to twirl a baton, or tap dance?" And that's pretty much when he looked at me like I had 8 heads. Hopefully, he'll never come near my desk again. Stupid Douchbag!

I'm sure there's lots of other great DB stories out there - please share (even if they're about women, that's cool too)

Fatima - Hater of all things 'Pageant'

The Two Most Idiotic Things I Read Today

1. Ty Pennington, hunk of Trading Places, and now spokesperson for a variety of things like Sears, Black & Decker, etc., apologized for his DUI. If he hadn't been caught, would he have come out and apologized that he was drinking last night, didn't caught, but was still sorry for all the innocent lives he could have killed/endangered? No. I've driven under the influence so I'm no Pollyanna when it comes to this subject, but please quit apologizing to the press and your fans. You're sorry cuz your stupid ass got caught.

2. Kathy Hilton "stands behind her daughter." Yes, number one because no one wants to see Kathy's picture or even her for that matter, they only want to see Paris. And two, of course any self-respecting mother stands behind her daughter. Could she not have come up with anything better than that?

I've seriously got to quit reading tabloid trash, the news, or anything even resembles it. It's depressing, sad and full of pathetic indulgence. Grrrr.

Out here - Fatima

Take Home Test from Hell

I wrote in many, many posts ago that I was insane for thinking I could easily (EASILY) take and pass a Financial Analysis graduate course when I am a Financial Analyst; that's what I do for a living. Oh. So wrong. And so sad.

Well, the first quiz I swore I failed, I got scored 100. Things were starting to look up. I have since received anywhere from 88s to 100s on everything I've turned in thus far (homework problems, quizzes, mid-term, and two abstracts).

But Saturday. Oh. That was a horse of a different color. She handed out the final; she'd told us ahead of time it was a take-home, and that we had to have it back in the mail to her around Wednesday-ish so she'd have time to grade it.

I looked at it - really looked at it - Sunday morning over coffee. I thought I picked up a copy of the Ukranian Times. Or perhaps a do-it-yourself manual for a nuclear missile written in Cantonese. I swear to God - I don't remember learning any of this shit! I mean I know I daydream from time to time (well..........a lot), but this shit is as crazy as thinking about poor old Paris is black and white stripes for 45 days. A little humorous, yes, but crazy.

I don't know how long it will take for her to grade everything and then for her to send out final grades, but I'll let everyone know about my F, uh, I mean my low B. I should have become a Physicist; that's starting to look easier to me than this fucking test. This picture depicts how I feel after looking at each problem on my test!

Dunce Fatima