Hale Fellow, Well Met

Big Bird, of the nest behind 123 Sesame Street, died Wednesday, November 7, 2012 after Mitt Romney was voted into office. Despite claiming love for the Streets beloved protagonist, Romney made good on his promise to cut off funding to avoid having the Chinese finance educational programming for millions of Americans.  Big Bird was last seen looking frantically for work before the plug was pulled on PBS stations all across the nation.

Born in 1969, Bird - as he was lovingly referred to by his good 'friend' Snuffie - bright primrose-yellow at 8 feet, 2 inches tall stole the hearts of pre-schoolers and parents alike.  Well known for his talents as an ice-skater, roller-skater, singer, dancer, unicycle rider, and poet, Big Bird was also known for his frequent misunderstandings.  It was these very misunderstandings - like thinking the alphabet was one long word - that made Big Bird a character that many could identify with and relate to.  While his relationship with  Snuffleupagus remained ambiguous (initially he hides Snuffie from everyone else, then Snuffie and Bird come out as friends), it is believed that this relationship further endeared Big Bird to viewers.  His self-identification as a condor, despite being flightless, made viewers realize that Big Bird was a pioneer in self actualization.

While best known for his work on Sesame Street, Big Bird was the subject of the feature film 'Follow that Bird', and also worked alongside Mister Rogers and the cast of the Muppet Show, both on their show and in their movies.

Big Bird is survived by his teddy bear Radar and his memorial service will be held on NickJr on Saturday, November 10, 2012.  It is expected that this service, officiated by Levar Burton,  will disrupt regularly scheduled programming on the popular pre-school channel for the entire day.  In lieu of flowers, it is asked that money be donated to the Public Broadcasting Service.

Dayum

Songs that the toddler monkey loves:

1. Werewolves of London - Warren Zevon

2. The Boxer - Paul Simon

3. Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

4. Boom Boom Pow - The Black Eyed Peas

5. I'm Elmo and I know It - Elmo 

6. The following gem, which he calls Uncle Dude as the guy singing reminds him of my brother & he listens to while holding his penis standing on a chair....

Not one Baby Einstein or Raffi jam on his list ~ I'll be accepting nominations for mother of the year now through December.

It would take too long to go into the math...

I suppose if you are willing to discount 47% of Americans, you would find yourself at a loss for explaining the math around your economic plan.  I wish I knew a number of high school math teachers who would be glad to help you explain your thinking, even provide you with a graphic organizer in order to do so. But, those sons a bitches are too busy caring only about themselves and all the money they rake in with their union jobs.  Hopefully, their supreme mathematical knowledge trickles down to the rest of us.

Shake What Ya Mama Gave Ya...

This weekend my mother was feeling unwell, and like any good drama queen had web m.d.'d herself into quite a fright.  Thankfully, she also went and saw the actual doctor and results came back today with her being fit as a fiddle and suffering from a possible allergic reaction to hot dogs - I told her hot dogs were filthy!  Anyway, her drama queen-ness is catchy and I realized that I was a little bit scared at the thought of anything happening to my mother ~ segue to violin music playing while I toss my hand across my forehead in a 'woe is me' posture.

Reasons Why My Mother is Not Allowed to Die Yet (or possibly at all):

• She has a dog that, I fear, would eat her face.  In terms of my mother's canine companion, the word dog is being used loosely.  She is no bigger than your average house cat and shakes like a leaf when too much is going on in the house, or if it is windy.  If anything were to happen to my mother, I fear, this 'dog' would eat my mother's face out of sheer nervousness.  To my thinking, my mother must outlast this epic-fail of a dog to save us a lot of trauma.
• I don't know how to buy my own underwear.  As I've mentioned previously, my mother buys me new underwear every year for Christmas.  Last year, I was left alone to pick them out and have been wearing underwear that are two sizes too big for the past 10 months.
• Only my mother, and her sister, know how to make Thanksgiving stuffing properly.  I have been instructed, numerous times, how to do so but even upon consulting my notes, I have to make a phone call to find out if I have it right.  This is very stressful for me, and on second thought, my Aunt Jackie isn't allowed to die either.
• There isn't anyone else I know, currently, that allows me to call her old lady, as in: 'Hey old lady, call the frigging doctor will ya?'
• There are lots of things that I am unsure whether I like or not.  My husband is a good source for this kind of questioning: 'do I like hazelnut coffee?', but my mother has known me longer and has more information on my likes and dislikes.
• My mother gives people stuff.  Oh, you need a dress for a wedding, go to my mother's house, she'll have just the thing.  Don't have a cookie sheet, here have hers.  One of my good friends doesn't have a wallet, and has been known to use a sock for her debit card.  When my mother learned of this, she promptly brought a wallet and a pocketbook over.  
• Sauerkraut.  I really like sauerkraut that is cooked with the juice from a roasting fresh ham.  I don't care about the ham necessarily, but I can't live without the kraut, and the gravy.  Oh, the gravy.  My mother makes this for my birthday every year, and I would be a very hungry girl every mid-October if my mother were not around.

• My children find my mother hilarious.  They want to go to her house or have her over our house quite frequently.  The toddler monkey even claps when he learns he's going to Mama's.  They like to take rides in the car with her, and sit on the couch and watch movies with her. They don't even mind her occasional sharp tone.
• She runs an inclusive operation - when she refers to her kids, she's talking about my husband too.  If she doesn't already, I know she will also include my soon to be sister in law when talking about her kids.
• My mother sings really good songs at karaoke - songs everybody knows and loves.  And, she sings them quite nicely.  I bet your mother doesn't do karaoke.

• I love her and would be a lost soul without her.

I got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane...

I used to live with these two guys, one who was home a lot more often than the other.  After having me as a roommate for approximately three weeks, the stay at home guy (read: unemployed, video game playing for 15 hours a day guy) told me I was limited to three questions a day.  As it turns out, I ask a lot of questions, which could be considered extremely charming, or mind numbingly exhausting ~ think of a 3 year old who has recently learned the word 'why'.  His request didn't make me stop asking questions, it just made me more strategic about putting as many questions into one single phrase at a time.  

Having spent the past few days with regular football refs back on the job, I have the following questions ~ please note there may be more than three:

1. Before their lockout, didn't everyone hate the regular ref's too?

2. Why was this the one union that Romney/Paul were interested in getting back to work?

3. Anyone realize that Verizon workers were without a contract for almost a year?  You know those guys that went in after 9-11 to do clean up and get communications up and running & many of whom are suffering from lung issues now?  

4. Anyone able to tell me why I saw not one mention of the Chicago teacher's union strike on social media, but an endless litany about the poor calls made by the scab refs?

5. Do people honestly believe that unions are out for just themselves?  Or that teachers, cops and firemen are in it for the money and not the ability to help out their communities?

6. Does anyone else hate football as much as I do?

OTB - Off track B.S.ing

Off track.  I am seriously and profoundly off track.  My spring goal of making attainable, measurable goals every forty days has been derailed for a number of reasons:

1. I am lazy
2. Summer is much longer than forty days, and truly more than I can manage.  If you give me too much time to accomplish things, I accomplish nothing.  I started off the summer having made some serious gains vis a vis my home organization, but then things, more specifically me, got in my own way.
3. I started a new job.
4. I spent an exorbitant amount of time considering hair and nail styling options on Pinterest.

So here I go again (on my own, going down the only road I've ever known...).  Fall started last week and now we are full swing into the school year, so my bullshit excuses must stop here.  I'll still be lazy, but that's always been my cross to bear.  Forty days, what can a gal like me accomplish in forty days?  Well, quite a bit as it turns out.  Like most recently, I have learned to generate a cat meme, made up a song about the cat we've been babysitting for a year and fashioned a kitchen organizer/calendar thingy.

It's a work in progress people

Mine looks just like this except with green folders

The next forty days promise to be as exciting as all get out.  If the past forty days have been any indication, you're going to need to change your underpants after fully experiencing my day to day awesomeness.

Incidentally, it's forty days away from election day ~ 39 days actually, but close enough for government work.  See how I did that?  Pun intended!  I'll be continuing my all important work on my home organization, as well as ranting and raving in general; ranting and raving is probably my true calling but I'm going to ride this teaching thing out for a little while longer.  For finding time in your very busy day to read my musings, I leave you the following gift....

 Please Note: The opinions expressed in the above video do not reflect the position of the author.

My name is Kellianne Rothwell and I approve this blog...

Don't punish me with brutality....

Top 10 Reasons You Are Not Allowed to Make Decisions About my Vagina:

1. You don't have one

2. You didn't buy me dinner, or at the very least pull my hair

3. You think the female reproductive system has a magical off switch

4. You don't understand the difference between tampons and maxi-pads and why wings might be necessary

5. You are nicknamed Governor Ultrasound

6. You have not fought the battle of pubic hair over bathing suit and lost

7. You are riding a moral high horse hiding behind the mask of Christianity

8. Your ideals disenfranchise the weakest among us

9. When you hear the word discharge, you think of a gun

10. You have never carried life in your body and known the full weight of fear and wonder that surround all the decisions that you make from the moment you see the pink plus sign on the stick

I don't usually talk about politically charged topics on my blog, but this week I couldn't help myself after noticing how many people on my Facebook page like Mitt Romney and, heart-breakingly, how many of them were WOMEN.  You know, my contemporaries.  I know I show my naivete in assuming that most people hold true what I hold true.   If I knew nothing else about what Romney and Ryan are up to (tax evasion, tax breaks for the extremely wealthy, union busting, breakdown of Medicare, etc.) knowing their stance on women's health issues would be enough to send me screaming in the other direction.  

So ladies... REALLY?  REALLY?

First Stop Virginia, Next Stop Small Government Near You