CRIS-CROSS in the CROSS WALK

How many of you remember Kris-Kross? The duo is most famous for their 1992 hit "Jump", and their fashion styling—consisting of wearing their clothes backwards. I loved them! I remember breakin’ it down at the skating rink. But, because I have been blessed with a big bootie my whole life, I never could partake in fashion styling.

This brings me to my latest “pop-off”-CROSS WALKS. I’m sure you all are so ready to hear what I could possibly have to say about cross walks.

First of all let’s start off with a basic lesson. For those of you who might be scratching your head, or other body part thinking, “gee, what is a cross walk”, let me teach you.

A pedestrian crossing or crosswalk is a designated point on a road at which some means are employed to assist pedestrians wishing to cross. They are designed to keep pedestrians together where they can be seen by motorists, and where they can cross most safely with the flow of vehicular traffic. Pedestrian crossings are often at intersections, but may also be at other points on busy roads that would otherwise be perilous to attempt to cross. They are common near schools or in other areas where there are a large number of children. Crosswalks can be considered a traffic calming technique.

Wait! Did that say “traffic calming”? They are definitely not calming in St. Louis. In recent days I have been almost run down twice, while crossing in a cross walk. No one seems to want to stop, or YIELD to the pedestrian. It drives me absolutely insane.

PEOPLE: the wide-colored lines in the road, or the big yellow sign that says PED X-ING, means STOP, or YIELD to pedestrians that may be trying to cross the street.

Contrary to popular belief, cross walks are not special VIP parking spots, and they are not an artistic impression that the street department placed on the pavement for cars to just run over day-to-day. They actually have a purpose; especially when there are people walking on them.

My all-time favorite is when the drivers actually stop and yell some obscenity, or throw some gesture to the ped. NEWS FLASH: The driver is the law breaker, he doesn’t need to be cursing or gesturing at me! C’mon, pull over and say something to my face. Don’t be a coward and throw it out there as you are speeding by!

So, for the love of God, can everyone just slow down and not to play hit the Prego in the cross walk? Oh, and one other request for those of you working at BJH….Quit parking in the damn cross-walks. I often wonder if these particular offenders think, “hmmm, I wonder why this parking spot looks different than all the others. It must be a special spot only for me.” ADDITIONAL NEWS FLASH: Genius…it’s a cross walk, not a parking spot. Those objects that are walking/wheeling in them are also known as humans. They aren’t plain-clothed valets!

WOW…I love hormones. They rock!

Beware: The LSRFAA has moved their convention to Target!

For those of you new to my blog, let’s get this out of the way.

LSRFAA= Lazy Scooter Riding Fat Asses Association

**Disclaimer**I am a RN people! I know that there are medical conditions that prevent people from being able to walk long distances, and that sometimes the scooter is medically necessary. But, obesity is not one of those factors! Exercise is good in this situation! I am in no way, harping on those of you who have a TRUE medical condition and are in need of the scooter. OK! Don’t send me an e-mail about it!

For years, I have been the on-site reporter for the LSRFAA convention which is normally held at the local Wal-Mart. However, my sources now confirm that they have already moved their 2009 convention to Target. The following is hot off the wire.

As I entered through those red-double doors, and grabbed my red carry along basket, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Actually I was stopped by a LSRFAA member that had cut me off on her scooter. I can’t be certain, but I can guess that she was probably well on the 300+ pounds side, which would make her a platinum member.

At that moment, I knew that no place is safe from the LSRFAA! I knew it was my duty to get the inside scoop. Her first hard-right hand turn was into the snacks isle. But, those darn Keebler cookies were on the 4th shelf, which would require her to lift the massive fat from her rear end and stand up. But that would also require movement. I stood there in anticipation…would she do it…did those cookies mean that she would exert physical energy to stand up and get them. …………..No. She tried to reach up with her arm, but it wasn’t quite long enough. She settled for the generic brand cookies, which only required an extension of her forearm from the elbow and a grasp from her hand.

I went along my way, walking through the store. I turned into the shampoo isle. I made the observation that people must run out of shampoo a lot on Sunday, because there were a lot of people in the isle. As I politely excused my way through the isle, I realized why the isle was so congested. The platinum member of the LSRFAA was there, right smack in the middle of the isle refusing to move over to one side or the other. I felt the rage, and the pregnancy hormones begin to rage up inside of me. I said, ‘excuse me can move your scooter, sot he rest of us can get by?” You would have thought that I asked her to get up and walk the rest of the way. I was ready to throw down with this lady! She probably could have taken me by the mere fact that she out-weighed me by about 150 or more lbs.

She did finally manage to maneuver her scooter by the push of a button and ever so slight moves of her upper body. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Target use to be the one place I could go to escape the LSRFAA members. I have been told by a former member of the LSRFAA that the scooters at Target are higher quality, with upgraded option, like a cup holder for their 44 oz sodas.

Run For The Boarder

Have you heard the story of the Rancher in Arizona who is being sued by about 16 illegal Mexican immigrants?

Attorneys for the immigrants, who were trying to enter the US illegally, have accused the rancher of holding them captive at gunpoint, stating he would shoot anyone who tried to escape.

Now, the rancher is “being sued by 16 Mexican nationals who accuse him of conspiring to violate their civil rights when he stopped them at gunpoint on his ranch on the U.S.-Mexico border.

Per the Washington Post “Mr. Barnett told The Washington Times in a 2002 interview that he began rounding up illegal immigrants after they started to vandalize his property, northeast of Douglas along Arizona Highway 80. He said the immigrants tore up water pumps, killed calves, destroyed fences and gates, stole trucks and broke into his home.
Some of his cattle died from ingesting the plastic bottles left behind by the immigrants, he said, adding that he installed a faucet on an 8,000-gallon water tank so the immigrants would stop damaging the tank to get water.
Mr. Barnett said some of the ranch´s established immigrant trails were littered with trash 10 inches deep, including human waste, used toilet paper, soiled diapers, cigarette packs, clothes, backpacks, empty 1-gallon water bottles, chewing-gum wrappers and aluminum foil - which supposedly is used to pack the drugs the immigrant smugglers give their "clients" to keep them running.

“Trial continues Monday in the federal lawsuit, which seeks $32 million in actual and punitive damages for civil rights violations, the infliction of emotional distress and other crimes.”

Ok….what???? When I read this story, I seriously thought it was a spoof. Since when do illegal immigrants have civil rights? I know that I wasn’t a stellar student in High School, but I’m pretty sure the Constitution didn’t grant illegal aliens the same rights as Americans.

Does this mean I can sue the Mexican government, or the owners of the Cancun hotel I stayed in because I drank tainted water? I had some serious emotional distress inflicted upon me. If you ever suffered from Montezuma’s revenge, then you know exactly what I am talking about.

This whole thing is sick and wrong. What has this country really come to? One has right to defend their land and their home. In fact, in Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas there are laws that allow home/land owners to protect their land by shooting anyone who attempts burglarize or destroy their property. I use to live in Texas. Trust me, those cowboys don’t mess around.

Let’s just take the whole illegal immigrant element out of it, and take this situation for instance…..A man breaks into my home in the middle of the night. He doesn’t know that I am a pregnant, hormonal person. I catch him, grab him by his testicles, and squeeze and twist until he sounds like a girl. Does he have the right to sue me for inflicting emotional and physical distress upon him? I fear this is the precedence that will be set.

I in no way believe that this group of illegal border jumpers will ever win. But, imagine the fortune this rancher now has to fork out to hire a defense team.

The group of Mexicans is being defended by the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund (MALDEF). The what? Where is my educational fund? Oh, yes, that would be the student loan, granted to me by the government. But, I have to pay them back for the next 10 years, so it’s really not a fund at all.

As Washington struggles to figure out a way to help and assist Americans, we can feel reassured that there is already an American funded program out there that is going to help and assist these illegal immigrants who are suing Americans when they get busted trying to bust into our country illegally.

I LUV U. COM

Thank God for the “dot com’s” of the world. If it weren’t for Al Gore and “his” internet, millions and millions of people would still be without love. Ok, maybe not millions, but there are quite a few people who have found love on the Information Super Highway. And, by love, I don’t mean a mail-order bride from Russia. I mean, real love. People, who might not get the chance to connect, find themselves connected via IM or chat rooms.

Now, for those of you who think internet dating is next to advertising yourself as a call girl, I say, “you just wish you could advertise yourself as a call girl”. Honestly, I have lots of upstanding, well-educated friends who have found that their busy lifestyle doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for meeting new people. They find it easier to come home and throw on their comfy clothes, fix a mug of hot tea, and sit down to sift through the millions of eligible bachelors (and bachelorette) that this world has to offer.

Of course, there is always great advice that I want to give, which is the true meaning of The Rock Pop. For what it’s worth, I am fully qualified to give dating advice. After all, I have been in an 8-year relationship with absolutely no commitment. I would say that damn near makes me an expert….right?

On-line dating can be scary. You really don’t know anything about the person behind the keyboard. Listen to the song “Much Cooler Online” By Brad Paisley. It nicely encompasses what you are about to get into. Additionally, I have compiled a Top 10 list of red-flags that one should be aware of when meeting people dating. Keep in mind, these instances are not made up, these things actually happened to people I know. I have only concealed the names of those involved so they are not embarrassed, or stalked.


10. During your first phone conversation, he talks about the babies you two will make together. He even hopes you will have twins!

9. He calls you at 7:30 AM while on his way to work, on the morning after your first phone conversation. He then subsequently calls your cell phone every hour on they hour until you answer.

8. He is a perfect gentleman on the first date. You have great conversation and even set up some boundaries by saying “I really would like to take things slow”. He then sends you a text message the next day and says “I miss you, will you be my Valentine?”

7. He lives more than 50 miles away from you, and says he travels a lot, so he likes long-distance relationships.

6. There is no profile picture posted.

5. The pictures he has posted are taken self-taken on his camera phone via the reflection in his mirror. Did I mention that he is shirtless and flexing his muscles?

4. During your initial conversations he calls his x-wife a slutty, hoe-bag, “c-word” who for some strange reason filed a “false” restraining order against him.

3. A couple of nights before you first date he calls you, intoxicated, on his way home from the bar. Did I mention its midnight, and you have to work in the morning?

2. He wants you to send more pictures of yourself to his e-mail. He requests they be a bit more revealing.

1. He has never met you, nor talked to you on the phone. But, your profile picture is like a movie-projector playing over and over in his mind.

The Curse of the Compassionate Comforter

This is another installment of "Men Behaving Badly"

Have you ever had such intense pain (not including labor), that you seriously thought you were going to die? About the end of the first quarter in last night's Superbowl, I began to feel this odd pain in the right upper quadrant of my abdomen. It shot through to my upper back. It was gnawing, and aching. As the game went on, so did the pain in my stomach. As a nurse, I knew the symptoms where pretty consistent with what seemed to be some issue with my gallbladder. However as a 17 week pregnant woman, I just wanted to whine and cry until someone took notice.

I have these issues since I was 18. I distinctly remember the first "gallbladder attack" I had. I was sitting in typing class when it hit me. It was completely agonizing, and so was the typing class. At any rate, I pretty much know what I should do to prevent these types of occurrences from happening. Eating hot wings, chips and salsa, and taquitos drenched in sour cream is not one of them.

Women are usually seen as comforters, and compassionate individuals. Since I am a nurse, I am obviously compassionate to individuals who are ill, or need help...because I am certainly not in it for the salary. I can remember when I was sick as a child, something about my mothers voice, and her rubbing my head and back always made me feel so much better.

So what is one supposed to do when they are 31 years old, and have probably the worse pain they have ever had in their whole life? While any standard narcotic would do the trick, I unfortunately do not have any spare Vicodin lying around, and I don't have a drug dealer. I need a different plan. Unfortunately, I think my mother would frown upon me dropping by, curling upon her couch in the fetal position, while sticking my thumb in my mouth. But, that is just me. Some of you may do that, and hey..more power to you! I think a big dose of compassion and perhaps a nice comforting back rub would do the trick. But where can you find that these days?

Significant others....hmmmmm....there's a thought. If you are a male reading this then the thought is legit for you. If you are female...I guess you just out of luck. Unless, of course, you have a closet homosexual for a sig-o, or he is a metro-sexual. I guess he could also be that 1% of males who knows what compassion is, and how to show it.

All we really want is for our men to ask us what they can do, sit down next to us, maybe rub our backs a little. I am not talking a full out Swedish massage. I don't know about all of you out there but anytime I want a little back-rub, he wants some BIG reward for doing it, or he is so aggravated that I asked him to do it that he puts no effort into it.

Even if you don't care that our insides feel like they are about to be regurgitated, at least act like it. And, if you are bad actor...get some acting lessons, or just watch a couple episodes of Days of Our Lives and you will be a compassionate comforter in no time at all.

Not only am I Rock Star...I am a Pro Football Tackle Person

It's good to be back. Thanks to all of you who have followed along my journey through life, and have now continued on. I hope you are not disappointed, although I don't think you will be.

Yesterday started out like any normal morning in my house. Everyone rushing around to get ready because none of us are morning people. I ever so carefully walk out to the garage, as there is still tons of frozen snow. Mother Nature shovels our snow for us, and she just hasn't gotten around to it yet, so the backyard is an accident waiting to happen.

As I start my car I try to open the garage door so I don't kill anyone with the carbon monoxide. But, it's stuck....that darn Mother Nature. I yell out to James that he will actually have to use that thing with the handle on it, called a shovel to get the garage open.

During the interim, I decide I will also start the Jeep for James (I'm soo sweet aren't I?) I was so caught up in my own sweetness that I forget to shut the gait behind me....this is where it gets interesting.

Our wonderful Siberian Husky, Aspen, decided to sneak out the gait that I had just left open for her. I was still thinking about how nice and sweet I was when I noticed the gait was open. I look down the back alley and there is Aspen running as if she is in the Alaskan back country pulling a sled with her brothers and sisters.

The ONE thing Husky dog owners will tell you is....NEVER, NEVER LET A HUSKY OFF THEIR LEASH...THEY WON'T COME BACK. These dogs are born to pull sleds...forever and ever.

I freak out and start screaming like the aliens have arrived from outer space and our perched above our home. I run, yes run, on the ice covered sidewalk back into the house to grab the leash and James. I guess he doesn't believe in aliens, or didn't get too excited because he kind of looked at me like I was crazy. With that, my pregnant, raging hormones kick in,my eyes to red, and my head does a 360...but only once.

I take of running....yes, running down the icy alley yelling for Aspen. I catch her with the Beagle about a block down. She starts to run toward me, and I think, "Oh, well this is easy". At the last second she makes a quick move to the left. I go after her. She stops. I stop. We stare each other down. She then starts to run past me again. I think to myself, "Jodi, it's now or never!"

As she is running toward me I get into football mode. Hey, I use to be a cheerleader for football...it's the same thing, trust me. Everything seemed to go in slow motion from this point. Aspen is getting closer...she fakes right..she fakes left...and I make a spectacular dive, grabbing her around her torso. YES!!! I AM VICTORIOUS! I am also 17 weeks pregnant.

As I look up from the bank of snow, I have just tackled my dog in, I see James WALKING across the street with the leash. He says, "Nice dive...but you need to remember to shut the gait behind you when you go out of it!" For real...I think my head spun around 10 times. I just made the most spectacular tackle. It was probably better than anything you would see on a high-light real.

I spent the rest of the day hooked onto a Toco (not Taco..although that woud have been just as lovely) monitor and Fetal Heart Monitor. I'm sure Junior was really excited to go on that journey with me, but it will be a great story to tell him (or her) when she is older. "Yes, your mother is rock star with football-like capabilities, and you father is slow and doesn't get excited about anything." Love is bliss!