The Blog of Bex

Today I took my 9-month-old "boxer" mix rescue puppy to Columns Drive for his very first walk along the river. He was extremely distracted by literally every single thing. Squirrels (obviously), bikers, runners, walkers, dogs.  One guy brought a pretty spaniel looking dog by and smiled at me and said, "she is in full season."  Moose and I stared at him stupidly for a few. After she stood up on her front two paws and backed that thing up to Moose's face (who doesn't love a party trick!!) I slowly realized that "in full season" is a posh way of saying she's in heat.  After watching her for a minute I realized she was likely ovulating. Like RIGHT NOW. Moose continued to stare at her stupidly. I felt a mix of pride and shame.  I told the guy that Moose had been neutered and that her offerings were going to fall short of inspiring anything of note. He smugly said "that's what the guy down the river said...but after a minute, his dog remembe...

OMG...has it REALLY been over a year and a half since I wrote anything here?! I just got an email from a cousin who mentioned this blog and at first I didn't even know what the hell she was talking about.Guess I've been busy with the family and work. Not to mention all of that critical facebooking that I do. We had two massive roadtrips this summer, which made me think about playing Bingo for the first time in my adult life. My personal favorite box, "Car smells like a mix of feet, farts and French fries." I've never read a more apt description. So...how was YOUR summer?? 

Day 0: I heard it might snow!! I feverishly tell my kids, who whoop for joy. I immediately go to Costco, Publix and the wine shop. Not even in that order. That night, I'm so excited I have trouble sleeping. Day 1: Morning: Wake up to a winter wonderland. School is canceled. Yay!! Throw on two pairs of pants, a sweater and my rain boots. Freeze my ass off but don't care because we are having so much fun! Afternoon: First fight breaks out among the kids over mitten ownership. Have to google medical information on how best to treat chapped cheeks. Can barely feel my feet, due to mild frostbite from running around in plastic shoes that have zero insulation. Night: Knock back my evening cocktail like my life depended upon it. Rinse and repeat. Day 2: Unbelievably, the girls who normally have to be pried out of bed with a crowbar in order to make it to school in time have woken up at 5:30 in the morning and are downstairs fighting over who gets the last of the Special K. Th...

My two oldest kids are in elementary school, which - in the fine state of Georgia - started last week. My middle kid, Thing Two, was a bit dismayed early on when she was given homework by her teacher. It consisted of a bag and a note stapled to it that said: What's Your Bag?? Attached to this letter is a lunch bag. Please fill the bag with three to five items or pictures that tell about you. Bring the bag back to share during the first week of school. Here are some ideas: something in your favorite color the wrapper from your favorite snack the best book you have ever read something you collect something that tells about your hobbies a picture of your family I asked her if she wanted any help and she said, "Nope! I've got it covered, Mommy...I know exactly what to do!!" And then I thought nothing else about it. After all, sticking 3-5 things that say something about you in a brown paper bag is a piece of cake, right? Today I noticed that she had brought it home with a...

I was in the car today with my three kids, ages 3, 8 and 10. The three year old announced that his "penis hurts...and it's getting bigger!" He wanted me to help it. "No-can-do, Buddy...that's illegal, even in Georgia. Just give it time, leave it alone and it will go down on its own." About 10 minutes later one of my daughters exclaimed, "Oh NOOO!!!" Naturally interested, I asked what was wrong. She said, "I lost a fart!" When I asked her what the hell she meant by that, she said that she "...pooted, but it turned into a bubble and went up the front and didn't come back out." So if any of y'all want to know why I have a cocktail every night at five SHARP, now you know.

Today is 9/9/9. And all I can think about are flame-retardant pajamas. What the hell is up with this?! I realize that some poor little kids must have been in a house fire where their pj's went up in flames. That's horrible (and totally not funny so I'm gonna quit talking about it right...NOW.). But do children really have to, until the end of time, sleep in weird, sweaty fabrics that boast "Flame Retardant!" on their labels??! And what, exactly, does "flame retardant" mean? I realize that it probably won't go off like a roman candle if exposed to a spark, but what happens if fire gets on it? Does it melt?? That probably wouldn't feel good, either, Folks. My 8 year old has begun sleeping in her daddy's t-shirts because they are just regular old cotton. That's all kids want - some normal cotton jammy's that don't make them sweat so much that they have recurring dreams that they're stuck under a waterfall that feels like damp bur...

I have a strange affinity for Reggaeton music, which has me, at times, listening to Hispanic radio stations. This morning was no exception. I don't speak Spanish so I have no idea what the hell the announcers are saying...but I imagine that the DJ's are dressed up like clowns like on the Spanish TV. The guys are almost always fat and love to make wild and sometimes suggestive facial gestures. The women either are beautiful and curvy or look like a prison warden with makeup. Anyhoo, this morning they were playing a cool song and then when it ended, the crazy (Muy LOCO!!!) announcers took over. It sounded something like this: Labbadda labbadda....LabbaaaaaDAAA!!! [cue the canned laughter] Blah blah blah....Michael Jackson .... blah blah blah...labbadda....... ....esta...Wacko Yacko.... I finally figure out that I was listening to the "zany" morning crew discuss the Michael Jackson funeral coverage. So much for my self-imposed moratorium on the subject today. Does anybod...

I became aware of a documentary today called 'Orgasmic Birth'. It documents, essentially, women who have "natural" deliveries and then are blessed with some kind of orgasm at the end of the delivery. Wha... really ????! I've had three kids, but they've all been born via c-section. In the beginning I really wanted a vaginal birth...it just never happened for me (stupid cervix). But I planned for it, gave it a lot of thought and when I was crafting my Personal Birthing Plan my doctor asked me to put whether or not I'd like drugs and I wrote (after careful seconds of consideration), "Hell yes, I want the drugs! And if y'all are running low just let me know and I'll bring my own!" That having been said, I have plenty of girlfriends who have done it without anything and they are just fine. Although, one would think that the same women who told me that I've just got to get a Rabbit vibrator would have the 4-1-1 on the orgasm at delivery if...

This is why I love Southern Women. And Drag Queens. Sing it, Sista!!!

I met a very interesting woman today. We were at a luncheon and were seated across from one another at a long table. She introduced herself to me and we began chatting. Suddenly, things got weird: Her: This egg salad sandwich is YUMMY. Me: Mine, too! There must be relish in here.... Her: Speaking of eggs, I have endometriosis . Me: Oh man, that sucks. I have a couple of girlfriends who have it, too. (the men at the table are now slowly scooting their chairs away from us while I bat my eyes at them, silently imploring "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE BY MYSELF!") Her: It's VERY painful. I had cysts on my uterus AND cervix. I also have boils taken out from time-to-time. It really sucks. Me: Ummm ... yah , I'd imagine. Oh! Not to change the subject or anything, but did you SEE the cake over there!!! Wow!! Her: I like cake. It reminds me of my ovaries. Me: ......eh.... So...I hate to change the subject again, but I'm dying to know: what do you do for a living?? Her: I...

On my way to drop my kids off at the local elementary school this morning there was a police officer who was directing traffic. I was behind 5 other cars that he had stopped so that another line of traffic could go. We had been sitting there for about 30 seconds when the truck behind me beeped his horn. I glanced in the rear view mirror thinking, "Hey, Einstein. I'm not stopped here because I love the way the beater Chevy in front of me feeds poisonous gases into my car. Open your fucking eyes and see that we either have to stop or run a cop over while our kids are in the car." But I kept my acerbic and witty comments to myself as I had wee ones in the car. Because I have self control. Anyway, as we entered the drop off zone I stopped the car (because that's what I typically do when SMALL CHILDREN need to get out of the fucking car) and my two daughters picked up their bags and hopped out. As my second grader was closing the door she said, "I love you, Mommy....

So you know...I live in Florida now. The good news is that my southern accent is stronger than ever - I think it was some sort of defense mechanism...of or for what, I have no idea. I definitely miss Atlanta and my friends, though, especially now. Spring in Atlanta is SO beautiful. But Florida is pretty nice, too. We go to the beach at least once a week and we all love having a pool in the backyard. Also, my husband makes me a Planter's Punch every night and I don't even feel guilty by knocking it back - we're on vacation, right?? A couple of weeks ago I was reading the news and saw this weird picture: In case your eyes can't make sense of it, I'll give you a hint. It's not a puppy. I'm guessing it's not an air freshener, either. It is, in fact, a Burmese Python that ruptured and now has a really big dead Alligator sticking out of it's stomach. Oh, and something ate the snakes head off. That's why there is no head there. National Geographic has...

In Florida our homeless people seem to have some sort of union or something. They have matching uniforms and are up - at the crack of dawn - asking for donations on my street corner as I'm unsuccessfully trying to hustle my kids to school on time. And it's always the same guy which leaves me to wonder, "If you can get your shit together enough to show up here everyday asking for money, why don't you just...oh, I don't know...get a job or something??" My guy, I call him Hud (stands for homeless unkempt dude), is not tall enough. This is basically a nicer way of saying that he's fat. But Hud is totally FAT!! I keep wondering just exactly how needy IS this guy when he can afford to eat an extra thousand calories a day?! Every morning he greets me in the same fashion - he puts a sad little frown on his crinkly face and holds his hand up with his thumb and index finger almost touching as if to say, "Sadly, my shrinky dink is only this big... that's w...

About 15 years ago I got a call from my sister-in-law. She was graduating from college and needed a chaperone to drive from California to the East coast with her. The reason for this, I would find out later, is that she was a notoriously bad driver. And I don't mean this figuratively. I'm being pretty fucking literal. As in, she literally flipped a car 3 or 4 times on a highway one time. That kind of stuff. Anyway, I was just as willing way back then (as I am now) to shirk my responsibilities and do something stupid so I said "sure!" and caught a flight across the country to hook up with her. She is a sweet girl and we had a lot of fun meeting in San Francisco, going to L.A., Vegas, Carhenge...you name it. At one point, somewhere in or around Colorado, I became exhausted and wanted to stop for the night. I was pretty tired of the Motel 6's we'd been frequenting and asked if we could use a phone book to look up a Bed and Breakfast. She'd never heard of th...

Mr. Bex entered a weight loss contest at work and is driving me bat shit crazy . Thankfully today is the final day of it and, he claims, he'll take me out for lunch anywhere I want to go to thank me for my participation. While I might have been construed of as "less than supportive" early on by mocking his giving up the nightly cocktail while I enjoyed my steak, I've more than made up for it this morning. Yes, this morning I have given counsel on the ins and outs (mostly outs) of laxatives. I have also wrapped said husband from head-to-toe in saran wrap - and we're not even going to have sex! Then, when the aforementioned laxative kicked in I was required to rewrap and then help dress him in his already sweat (and god knows what else) covered clothes. I may never be really clean ever again. All of this and it's not even 9am yet. This is why I will have a bloody mary bigger than my head with my lunch today and I won't even feel bad about. I've fucking ...

As in, recycling. As in I didn't write, fund or act in the following. I know. I said I KNOW!! Plus it's old, hell, you've probably seen it a dozen times. But it cracks me up every time I see it so I'm throwing it up here ANYWAY. Take that . And the dialogue! Instant classic.... Obama says (under his breath), "baDUNKadunk". McCain adds, "I would tap that, my friend." It is sad that I have no original material to share. But fear not, young grasshoppers. I just bought a pair of rollerblades and I'm not as young as I think I am. I'm sure I'll come up with something soon.

The town I've recently moved to is made up of mostly Hispanic people. It's very strange...I'm in the same country, one state down, yet I feel like I should have my passport with me at all times. There are a lot of things I love about it, with the great food at the top of the list. Cuban, Dominican Republic, Mexican, Colombian...it's all wonderful. When I pick my kids up at school it is more likely that the parents and teachers will be speaking in Spanish, which has given me the very cool sensation that I'm on a sort of permanent vacation. Probably the worst thing about it is I'm surrounded by people with majorly impressive asses. I've never before felt so boring from behind as I do now. I find myself staring at thick women in stores and restaurants, wondering how I, too, could have a badunkadunk*. I've been eating rice and beans like it's going out of style but it isn't working. I blame my stupid Irish ancestors and their stupid flat Irish asses...

I recently asked a girlfriend if her daughters ever saw her naked and, if so, how did she handle it. Her answer was "Well, I used to all the time, but...I'm kind of, um, creative with my hair...so now I put a hand down there to cover it and skedaddle into a pair of panties ASAFP." Creative...what does that mean? Is there a New! and Improved! Crotch Coif of which I'm unaware??? I asked her if maybe she shaved her husbands first initial down there or something and we had a nice laugh. The whole reason I asked her in the first place was because I have another girlfriend who was recently in her garden tub, having a soak when her 8 year old son walked into the bathroom and said he wanted to jump in. He did so in his underwear. Well, her husband came in and got pissed off! I guess he thought it was inappropriate for the boy to see his mother naked. I have no idea about her coiffing tendencies...but maybe she has a similar issue. Well, all of this talk about bush coiffing ha...

Some time ago I went to my twentieth high school reunion. I had a good time, although I hadn't seen most of these people since the day I accepted my diploma. One exception was a guy named...well, let's call him "Joe" in case he doesn't want to be discussed on a public blog. Anyway, I bumped into "Joe" several years ago on Bourbon Street in New Orleans around 11:45PM on New Years Eve. I don't know about him but we had been drinking since that morning so I didn't remember much about the encounter. So when I saw him at the reunion I brought up the New Orleans thing and we laughed about it. We started making small talk and he said that he was, in fact, a medical doctor. I thought that was pretty cool. After all, this is someone with whom I'd sit at parties and bang heads with while listening to heavy metal bands. And look how nicely he turned out! I asked him what kind of medicine he practiced and he said, "uh, internal." Well, I'm ...

I realize that this is well-covered territory. But the welfare cow from the state of California is SERIOUSLY pissing me off. What the fuck could she be thinking?! I'm not sure how the news story officially developed. But here is how I processed it: A lady in California had octuplets?! Jesus...what is that, eight?! EIGHT babies?! Fuck me...I hope that shit's not contagious! The octuplets mom isn't married? Huh. Must be some trust fund baby with more money then sense. SHE LIVES WITH HER MOTHER?! IN A SMALL HOUSE???!!! AND they have no money AND her mom said she did not and would not support her in this pursuit. Holy shit.... What the...the doctor submitted the hospital bill to the state for payment?! She receives food stamps (and other state benefits) for the SIX kids she already has. But she doesn't believe that she's on welfare. Right . She set up a website to receive donations. Unbelievable. I'll get right on that. Right after I send in a generous contributio...