How I Ended Up This Way's Blog











{February 6, 2013}   Will I Sleep Tonight After This?

Hey guys! Welcome. It doesn’t take much to entertain me. We all know that. I’ve accepted it, most of you have accepted it. At least I hope you have. If not, I’ll be getting some angry tweets . . . but then again, who cares! I’m joking, of course. OR am I??

Let me first apologize for the funky way this blog looks. Let’s just say, I don’t like when things change! I haven’t been able to take the time (actually the patience) to continually mess with the new format on WordPress so that is pleasing to your beautiful eyes, and I’m . . . well, let’s just say “not happy” about it!

Maybe it’s because some things have recently been settled in my life that have plagued me mentally and physically for what seems like forever, maybe it’s because I’m happier now than I have been in a very long time or maybe, and this is just a guess here, but just maybe my sense of humor really is as warped as I have said many times. Whatever the reason, this story just struck my funny bone and I’m still laughing over it! Did I mention, I’m easily amused and distracted? Oh, I thought so.

These are some ads from the 1950’s, as stated in the article. These are just the top five I felt deserved the honor of being profiled in this collection. Listen, I know the 50’s were a totally different time; I get that. People looked different, they dressed different and cartoon characters looked different. But seriously, these photos really are . . . eye-catching. And they say commercial ads are too “scary” for children today.

          5)  Yea, this makes me want to run right out for some chocolate! :

creepy-children-vintage-50s-ads-chocolate-kid-head-series

           4)  No wonder “Beaver Cleaver” didn’t want to take a bath! :

creepy-children-vintage-50s-ads-pears-zombie-child-bathtub Pears soap

            3)  Who said I wanted to “DYE”??? Well, I certainly don’t want to NOW! :

creepy-children-vintage-50s-ads-dye-cat-bloog-scary dye company

          2)  I’ll just agree with the original caption on this one. The girl, the ONLY kid without an ice

              cream mind you, looks too much like that freaky girl who played in “The Orphan”. But in

              case she sees this, I REPEAT . . . These are not MY words, so don’t come after me to

              teach me “I must be killed to be put out of my pain.” Just asking, please. We good? :

creepy-children-vintage-50s-ads-possessed-girl-ice-cream looks like Ester

          1)  Notice the word “barbiturate” here? Of course, with that Pears’ Soap, the kid probably

               needed this shit! :

creepy-children-vintage-50s-ads-nembutal-black-eyes

Seriously, I wonder if I’ll ever sleep again! One day I’ll learn. “Stay focused and don’t get distracted AJ!!”

Until next time . . . PEACE

AJ

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{July 8, 2011}   Swingin’ By

I am not a very emotional person. By emotional, I mean the “lovey-dovey, strawberries and cream” kind of emotion, although I do have my moments. Yet, sometimes I am faced with words I must put to paper. Almost as if the words are slapping me saying “I will win, so you might as well get up and write this story so you can get some sleep.” Yea, sounds like tons of fun, doesn’t it?

So here goes. I literately dreamed this poem. Although, in the dream it was a song, I was surrounded by cowboys that looked like Brett Michaels and Vince Neil . . . (yes,Marina. . . I know, the hair), all on horseback, doing a reality TV show about “real cowboys”. Seriously. And let me tell you, if you think having a song stuck in your head is bad, try having a song that doesn’t exist stuck in your head. Now that, my friends, is a pain in the ass.                                  

Now that I have left you with the image of Motley Crue’s lead singer on horseback, did I mention the cowboy hats? OH, and “Cowboy Troy” was there as well . . . the only black cowboy I know. Here is the result of my mind’s never ending imagination. It doesn’t always make sense, but at least there are hot guys, huh?

 

                                                         A friend comes when called.

                                                 A better friend calls to see how you are.

                                       But the greatest of friends, aww . . the greatest of friends

                                                       Swing by – just in case.

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Thank you all for swingin’ by.

Until Next Time . . . PEACE

AJ



{June 20, 2011}   My Dog Is The Best Dog Ever

Hi all! Welcome.

As the title of this blog states, my dog, Ryoki, is the best and greatest dog EVER! Actually, she’s more of my dad’s dog. But I claim her as mine now.

And I’m going to tell you why. I think you’ll agree she is really something special.

Ryoki

The other night, I was going through some of my boxes. I moved into an add-on at my parents home last year to try to get back on my feet and get some other things in order. The longer I stay here, the more I think about what’s in those boxes and how tired I am of the items. So, every now and then, I’ll go through them and give some things away. I just gave all my plates to my niece. I picked out some pots for her and some silver wear for my mom along with just taking some
of my baking items out for use. By the way mom, the baking items are still mine
. . . but you can use. I love to bake.

 Anyway, I was taking some things inside the house. As usual, I had overloaded my arms and had no possible way to open the screen door. My mom’s screen door handle is broken, so it doesn’t “catch”. This is great for Ryoki because when she has to go out, she pushes the screen door ever so slightly and goes out. She hasn’t mastered knocking the door hard enough for it to bounce open wide enough so she can stick her head in to get back in . . . but she does knock when she wants back in.

Now, in the past, I have mentioned how she is the “favored sister”. And in truth, she really is. But I don’t mind, especially after what she did the other night.

There I stood outside the door, my arms so full I couldn’t even use my elbow to nudge the screen door open, saying “Someone please get the door”. I was nice at first. After all, there were five
people in the house; my three kids, their dad and both my parents, just feet away from the door. No one came to my assistance. However, I did see Ryoki standing inside the door. Again, and a little louder, I said “Can someone get the door???” Apparently, they were too busy to be bothered. Again, I see pretty little Miss Ryoki standing by the screen door. But wait, she was coming my way. Gently, she edged the door open and backed up. Dang dog. Was she teasing me? She already poops right outside my door (my door leads directly outside; she doesn’t poop in the
house). Great. Now, she’s found a new way to diss me. Which, I let her know I didn’t appreciate.

She then pushed the screen door open a little farther. Holy cow, I thought. Was she trying to open the door for me? I didn’t catch the open part quickly enough with my shoulder. So, testing the waters, I said “One more time Ryoki, I couldn’t get that one.” All the while five people were standing in the dining room; only a few feet into the house.

And, I’ll be damned. Ryoki not only opens the door, she opens it a bit wider and holds it until I catch it with my shoulder! I couldn’t believe it! I figured she was going to come outside and
that was her ultimate reason for opening the door. Yet as I nudged the screen door open, and took the one step up that led me into the house, she backs up, looks up at me wagging her tail and I swear people, she was smiling! She knew exactly what she was doing! Very impressive Ryoki!

I went around to every person in the house and bragged on her, considering they were content to ignore my pleas for someone to open the door, I felt I was justified.

As I relayed the story to my mom asked me “did she go on outside?” I proudly informed her, “No, she simply opened the door for me. Once she saw I had the door and was coming in, she backed up for me.”

How freakin’ genius is my dog?! And I thought she didn’t even like me, considering you know, the pooping outside my door and all. I think I can truly say she is my sister now with pride . . . after all, she still is a dog.

Until
next time . . .

  A.J.



As I sit here getting everything prepared for my daughter’s high school graduation today, I can not help but think about the little girl she was. As a matter of fact, I have a picture of her taken by her pre-school teacher so many years ago. I have always kept this particular photo on my refrigerator. It’s one of those pictures of her that I just love. You know the photo I mean; we
all have that one special photo that for whatever reason, hits us in a special way.

 As I look at the photo of my then, preschooler, I think back to the events surrounding the day I was given the photo. It was near the end of her preschool year. She is standing there, with her special “all-happy” smile on her beautiful face, wearing one of the dresses I made her. The dress is covered with different colored flowers. There had been another kid standing with her until she made me cut the kid out of the picture because the kid was mean and she didn’t like him. I remember how stubborn she has always been. She has such a strong personality. As a matter of fact, when she was three years old, she was so angry with the fact she could not read like her older cousin did. I explained to her that you had to actually learn how to spell the words in order
to read them. It didn’t come automatically as she thought everything should. She wanted to know how to read. She wanted to learn how to spell so I started giving her spelling tests. We would study the words throughout the week, and on Friday’s, she would test. People,
this was her idea. I didn’t force her. So don’t be all “mommy dearest” on me.

It wasn’t long before she was reading small books. Once she proved she could read, she was satisfied. It amazed me how easily she picked up each new word. It shouldn’t have, considering she started talking when she was a little shy of four months old. I’ll never forget when we were at her six month check up. The doctor offered her the “tongue presser-downer” thingy (don’t mock me, you don’t know the technical term for them either!) to her. April took it, and promptly told the doctor “thank you”. I will never, in my life, forget the look on the doctor’s face. She did a double take, looked at my baby, who was already playing with the thing, then turned to me and my mother for verification. “Did she just say thank you?” With all of my vast knowledge which came with my twenty-three years (yea, not near as much as I thought) I looked at the
pediatrician and with confusion in my eyes, answered “yes”. I couldn’t figure out why she was so surprised. This was just two words of my daughter’s vocabulary. She says many things. She sings even. She started walking when she was just shy of seven months. What was the big deal? Little did I realize how naïve I really was; I was so stupid.

It was so difficult to let her go off to pre-school. She is my oldest and has a vivid imagination. Even my two younger children went through withdrawals not having her there. She definitely kept our days filled with things to do. Even now, at 18, she can open a big ole can of worms and turn it into an all day conversation or debate, whichever way she what she chooses it to go.

Yet, it’s this spirit that lives inside her, that has made her the person . . . dare I say, the woman, she is today. She is full of life, love and conviction for what she believes is right. And she is not afraid to stand up for her beliefs.

I know as she walks tonight, as she receives her diploma, and takes those first steps towards her adult life, she does so with a strong belief and determination to make this world a better place. And I know, with all that is within me, that she will make a difference in our world. As she does, I hope she’ll forgive the tears I know will be falling down my cheeks. And I hope she knows I could not be any prouder than I am at this moment . . . tears and all.

Until  next time……Peace

A.J.



{May 27, 2011}   You Are Mine

Hi everyone! Welcome back. I know, it’s been too long.

Most of you know my niece. I’ve talked about her. I’ve shown a picture here and there. She’s just  so adorable . . . everyone agrees. Well, I’m going to show you a little window into that baby’s world; as she sees it.

 

I’m going to call her Sasha. I’m not sure if her mom would want me to mention her name or not . . . plus, Sasha is a cool name. I could so be a Sasha.

Let me tell you a few things about her. She’s two years old. She has beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes and a “conquer the world” attitude. Her mom is working with her on her colors. Girl doesn’t know them all . . . but dammit, she will ask for her “purple paci”. Purple, she knows.

My oldest daughter has gotten Sasha hooked on a group called Alice Nine specifically, the lead singer Shou. Or as Sasha calls
him, Sho-Sho. She is very adamant about her feelings for him. “Sho-Sho” is . . . and I quote, “hers”. End of story. You just have to understand this one thing; don’t mess with Sho-Sho. It doesn’t matter what she is doing, when she hears the group’s music, she pops up and goes into a daze watching them. Sort of like me when I hear Charlie Daniels.

She recently enlisted my daughters help in writing him a letter. Basically, saying general things “hi, what are you doing? I have a paci” you know, really important things. Alas, before the letter is finished, she had her own things to tell him . . . some of it she told us, some she kept as a secret. People, remember she’s two. I thought I’d share the letter with you. It sort of takes me back do the second grade and the “check yes or no” letters. Sasha’s letter is a bit more . . . well, let’s just say she doesn’t give the option of using the “check box”.

Dear Sho-Sho,

 

I like my paci.

Where are you? 

I love you.

 

You are mine.

 

Sasha

Ahhh . . . to be young again.

Until next time……Peace

A.J.



et cetera