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Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category

The Day My Life Took a Turn

Posted in comedian, comic, Fantasy/Scifi, humor, My Writing Updates, Personal, Random, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 4, 2014| 48 Comments »


First day on the job, I was told to sit in on a client meeting to see how these Q & A sessions go. It was a phone conference. The client was in their offices and we were in ours. 

The client had about five people on the line, we had one guy, Bill and me. Of course he was doing all the talking. 

Midway through, a woman on the client side began yelling over everything Bill said. Finally, she was screaming things like, “You can’t be that stupid.”

At this point, Bill closed his laptop, picked up his stuff and just left without a word. 

The tirade continued with just me on the line.

She finally ended with. “Do you understand that, BILL?” She slurred his name in a most unattractive manner.

I hesitated for a moment, before taking the phone of off mute and said in a small voice, “Um, hi. I’m Deidra”

<pause>

“This is my first day.”

<pause>

“Um, Bill left a while ago.”

<pause>

“I don’t know anything about the super awesome thingie. Do you want to leave a message?”

<pause, silence, no response>

“Okay then, I guess we can adjourn.”

I didn’t know that day, but I had been introduced to the woman who would be my arch nemesis for the next two years.

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Her Skirt Swung with Each Step Saying Hate Me, Hate Me …

Posted in comedian, comic, family, humor, My Writing Updates, Personal, Random, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 30, 2014| 20 Comments »


I was fairly new on the job. I’d been there just long enough to know there was a woman, my manager who would come downstairs, jump on her broom and terrorize the entire wing. 

She was a pretty woman, which made her more frightening. You could hear her coming, stomping along in her high heeled shoes. If her pace was quick, you knew she was coming for someone.

When she launched into a tirade, everyone would stop to listen. And after she left, no one worked, they were all busy talking about her.

I was located in the furthest cubicle from the elevator. One day the doors opened and the click, clack of her high heels echoed on the floor.

I knew she was coming for me.

She snapped around the corner, her skirt swishing with each step as she quickly narrowed the distance between us.

Her entire face was pursed, on the verge of venomous explosion.

“Deidra,” She spit out my name like my Dad did when I used his stamp collection to post Valentines Day cards in grade school.

“Wait,” I cut in, “I know you have a problem and I’m here to help you. But you need to go somewhere else and wipe that look off your face and get control of yourself before you speak to me again.”

She gasped.You could hear a pen drop and none did.

She started laughing. “Am I really that bad?” she asked.

“Yeah, you scare grown men.”

That year I dressed up like her for Halloween. Hey, I can ride a broom too.

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Common Sense, Where?

Posted in comedian, comic, family, humor, My Writing Updates, Personal, Random, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 28, 2014| 9 Comments »


I received a text from an old friend. 

It read – I want to call you, what’s your phone number?

I replied – I think you just texted it.

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From the Bizarre Recipe Box

Posted in comedian, comic, family, humor, My Writing Updates, Personal, Random, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 25, 2014| 15 Comments »


I have recipes from my great aunts, grandmothers and even great grandmothers. Many are really good. I don’t use those. Just as may are a bit weird if not down right crazy. 

For all of you foodies, I would like to introduce a recipe from my great aunt who was quite the entertainer.

WARNING: Do not try this at home. But if you do, let me know how it turns out.

She called this little ditty the Backwoods Sandwich Loaf. I found it in her What to Serve Men section.

It starts with a loaf of unsliced bread. Cut lengthwise into 7 layers.

On the bottom layer, spread mayonnaise and cheese spread. Place bread layer on top.

On this layer spread tuna salad. Place bread layer on top.

On the next layer spread mayonnaise, tomato slices, salt, pepper and, you got it, next bread layer on top.

Next layer, egg salad. I think you’ve got the hang of the next bread layer …

Add mayonnaise and deviled ham.

Up until now you’re thinking – What up with you, Dee? It’s a little weird but still edible. 

But wait, there’s more.

On the last later, add mayonnaise and peanut butter. Yikes.

Though I’ve laid eyes on this wonder, I’ve never tasted it. You wouldn’t catch me eating a cheese spread, tuna, egg, tomato, deviled ham, peanut butter sandwich. 

 

Besides, it was served to the men in the wood paneled den.

And as a young female, I was served in the pale blue formal livingroom. We dined on Melon Americans or Frosted Sandwiches. 

I don’t know where she came up with the names.

 

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What’s Her Story?

Posted in art, comedian, comic, family, Fantasy/Scifi, humor, Personal, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 5, 2014| 49 Comments »


In fifth grade English, Mrs. Barnett use to give us a picture from a magazine and had us write a story about it. To this day, I still find this fun. Person, place or thing, what’s the rest of the story?

Is she good or is she bad? Was she jilted on her wedding day? There are no rules, whatever you think is the right answer.

Shall we play?

I was told I’m evil, a child of the dark. The light say I may be innocent now, but eventually I will kill and destroy just as my ancestors have done.

Until a few months ago, I thought there were only humans and I was one of them. I didn’t even know fae existed, light or dark. Now I’m hunted, already judged and sentenced because of what, not who I am.

I’m one of the last dark fae. I can’t let them execute me. But if I fight the light, will I fulfill my dark destiny?

What’s her story? Tell us your version.

 

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Which Cowboy Would You Chose?

Posted in comedian, comic, family, humor, Personal, Random, sarcasm, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2014| 50 Comments »


I’ve been playing around with the length of my blog posts. I usually write short posts. I tried creating longer posts. 

My last post was about fake cowboys. It was the long version. Here is the shorter version.

You Call Yourself A Cowboy?

Here’s my message to a couple of guys on my flight back to Texas.

If you paint your boots with puffy paint, you are not a cowboy. If you bedazzle your belt to match your puffy painted boots, maybe you best stay home.

If you have bling on your jeans, skip the rodeo. If you need to tie your hat on, don’t wear it. 

A real cowboy fills his jeans with an air of freedom and a bit of wilderness. He strides confidently in worn boots. More often then not, there’s a little stubble on his chin. 

He doesn’t bedazzle or puffy paint anything. He tips his hat to the passing ladies, no strings necessary. 

I loves me a cowboy. All pretenders need not apply.

So which do you prefer, this post or the next?

 

 

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l Loves Me a Cowboy

Posted in comedian, comic, family, Fantasy/Scifi, humor, Personal, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2014| 46 Comments »


The airplane was so tiny, it could be called a sardine can. my fourteen inch wide carry-on was banging against the seats as I dragged it behind me. I had become intimate with the two seat on the left, one on the right commuter plane. Even at my diminutive height of five foot two, I managed to smack my head on an over head bin. Up until now, all super small planes I’d flown on were short and wide, not super narrow.

This must be how sailor a submarine feel. I do loves me a man in a sailor uniform. But that’s another story.

As I was fighting with my recalcitrant case, banging along after me.  A ray of hope entered the darkness. A cowboy booted foot protruding out in the isle. A cowboy, too tall for his seat. Cowboys always offer help to a woman in distress.

As I slugged closer to immediate help, I notice a harlequin pattern painted on the boot. My stomach began to sink. When I got close enough to realize it was puffy paint, my stomach hit bottom. And not just puffy paint, he had bedazzled his belt to match his boots. This was no cowboy, it was a fauwboy (a faux cowboy).

He didn’t offer to help me with my case. He didn’t even look me in the eye.

Hot and sweaty, struggling down the isle I continued. Then I saw another ray of hope, a cowboy hat way in the back, near my seat. In the row so far back, if they’d have to strap me in the toilet to get me any closer to the rear of the plane.

My seat was finally in reach. Someone would help me heft my case into the overhead bin. I turned with  a forlorn look of desperation. His hat was tied to his head with strings. STRINGS TYING ON HIS HAT. This was no cowboy.

Cowboys do not paint their boots, bedazzle their belts, or need to tie their hats on. Cowboys wear worn boots, real leather, silver belt buckles, jeans without bling and finally, cowboys know how to treat women like ladies.

This is why I loves me a cowboy.

And a sailor

Any man in military uniform.

Firemen.

Texas Ranger, which goes without saying.

And …

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Whiskey Straight

Posted in comedian, comic, family, humor, Personal, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 30, 2014| 18 Comments »


I’ve managed to break another tablet. I mention this since it has been a while since I’ve posted. I travel during the week and use my tablet to stay connected. I managed to break this tablet, by plugging my cell phone charger into my tablet.  Not that this had any thing to do with drinking whiskey straight. It happened during the airport apocalypse. I can assure you there was no whiskey involved in that incident though I think it couldn’t have hurt.

I stay at a hotel in Sioux Falls with a secret club on the ninth floor. You have to know about it and then beg and whine to get access. Since I’m a superb whiner, I was granted access the second night. Persistence, squeaky wheel, you know the drill…

I was given a key card to swipe on the reader in the elevator.  This allows you to reach the hitherto inaccessible ninth floor run by Charlie, a lovely older lady. Charlie’s an interesting character. She use to be a manager with the hotel before she had a brain aneurysm. She has some memory related issues but other than that, she’s in tiptop shape.

At this point, you’re thinking where does the whiskey come in. The attraction of the secret club is an open bar and free food. They serve an entree and what I call bits and pieces, cheese, nuts, shrimp and the like. And did I mention the open bar is free. The Ninth Floor began to remind me of gangster movie, which led to drinking liquor straight.

I would step up to Charlie’s bar and say, “Whiskey, straight.”

Her brows would wrinkle and she would say, “Really?”

I replied, “Yeah.” Like a gansta says yeah.

She would shake her head like we hadn’t been through this the night before and pour the cocktail. I grabbed it, downed it and slammed the glass back down. The mostly male audience was impressed. And I would go about my evening.

Recently I went in for a checkup. My doctor is a tiny thing, even shorter than my five foot two self. This doctor makes grown men quake, even other doctors.

I have a policy “Be bad, but don’t lie about it.” So when she asked, You’re a moderate drinker, right?

I replied, “Yeah, mostly. Except for the whiskey, straight, only one, a night.”

She stopped and turned. I’m sure she assumed I would have a different answer.

“What you mean?” she asked, looking at me over her glasses.

“I found this club. The drinks are free. One thing leads to another. You know.”

The diminutive doctor comes over. Patting my arm she said, “Just because it’s free, doesn’t mean we want it.”

Now when a bartender asks me, “Want something to drink?”

I replied, “Nah, my doctor told me to stop drinking whiskey straight.”

Which gets about the same reaction as drinking whiskey straight.

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Abbie, You Are a Big, Fat Liar

Posted in art, comic, family, humor, Personal, Random, sarcasm, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on February 22, 2014| 20 Comments »


Dear Abbie,

I know you must work at Careerbuilder, because your emails end with their name. You send me emails almost everyday. Always with the same subject XYZ Company is interested in you.

I fell for it the first couple of times. I mean who wouldn’t. You work at a large employment site which I regularly use. I figure you have the inside scoop and have found me <blank> (charming, pathetic, funny, sad, annoying, add your own).

I thought perhaps these companies are really shy, like back in grade school and wanted you to slip me a little note. “We like you, do you like us, check yes or no.” I went directly to the company and said, “Yes, I like you and would love to go steady.”

However… Not only did they not send the note, they had never heard of me. And when they had they were nice enough. “We’re sure you’re a really nice person (call security we’ve got a live one.), but we’re already going steady and we really like him… a lot.”

How humiliating.

You’re on notice Abbie. I’m hip to you and your funny hijinks. So when you get an email telling you some awesome company wants to go steady with you, remember I’ve got my eye on you.

Dee

P.S. Am I still your friend? Check Yes or No. NO big fat NNNNNOOOOOO!

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Sisters

Posted in Personal, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on February 17, 2011| 3 Comments »


My sister has had bronchitus for about 6 weeks now. Last night she took a cough medicine and started itching. At 4am she went to the pharmacy and got benadryl. She took the benedryl and started vomiting. She vomited for about an hour and then had a heart attack. She had a heart attack for about an hour until they were able to get stints in. She’s in the hospital and is stable.
She needs to have a bypass to fix the rest of the problem. I spent the day at the hospital. When you’re young you see your family at weddings and births when you get old you see them at the hospital and funerals. That’s all.

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