The Queen Mother hexes my dishwasher

So for some inexplicable reason, the Queen Mother was haunting my sleep last night.  I have every faith that she has finally learned how to astral project so as to torment me.  That is why I am a little crabby tonight, because she kept waking me up out of a sound sleep to lecture me about things like the proper way to match socks and raise children.  The first I really couldn’t care less about and as for the second…. I really believe that if you screw up your children, there isn’t a whole lot else that matters.  I prefer to take advice from folks that I think have successfully raised children, however.  Keeping them alive into adulthood does not qualify you as a successful parent.  Raising gainfully employed, independent adults who do not require a wide variety of substances in order to get through the day comes pretty close.  I am also fairly certain that during her visit, she put a hex on my dishwasher.  Because I don’t have a cow, of course.

YouTube teaches everything and it helped me fix the dishwasher.  The most common problem when the dishwasher won’t drain is that the drain hose and/or pipe under the sink is clogged.  You have to get your hands dirty, girls.  Pull that bad boy out and take off the hose.  Bring a towel.  Unscrew the drain pipe and find whatever goodies your kids have left in there and remove them.  Remember, plumbing does NOT follow the righty tighty, lefty loosy rule.  To my knowledge, this is the only time this will ever be true in your life.

My dishwasher drains again.  I am extremely hopeful that I do not have any nightmares this evening.  Trust me, a nocturnal visit from the Queen Mother is a nightmare the size of a third world nation.  I would rather see the Goblin King or the boogey man.


Mr. Tenacious

Tenacious is the word of the day.  It’s both good and bad…. I am tenacious.  Like a dog with a bone, I will worry something to death until I have satisfactorily resolved it.  Or until the bottom falls out, whatever comes first.  I’m not picky.

Tenacious is bad when you are dating.  That guy studies you.  He knows all the right moves and just what to say.  He has an ulterior motive… your job is to sort out what that is.  In my most recent experience, the goal was to separate me from my money.

(Please know that I have approximately three nickels to rub together.  I cook from scratch because it’s cheaper.  I’m good at it, but it’s still cheaper.  See me next week for gluten free chicken cordon bleu.  I can make a penny whimper.  This is partly because I like to do things….like go on little day trips with my kids and buy them shoes.  I have style, however.  My thrift store finds are legendary.  Shhhh!  Face reality.  A single mother with a boatload of kids doesn’t have a lot of money. Duh.)

So, Mr. Tenacious has a line of bull shit straight out of Shangri-La.  He loves kids, he works hard, he can fix your pesky cabinet, he is Calgon and he is gonna take you away!  Add to that the fact that he wants to move fast…. This is to suck you in before your brain catches up with your libido.  He’s probably easy on the eyes and charming as can be.

We know better, girls.  We know that nothing and no one is ever as great as they make themselves out to be.  Sadly, we’re looking for the fairy tale and this grifter knows that.  The “con” in con man stands for confidence.  His job is to persuade you that the sky is purple instead of blue.  A batterer does this by smacking you in the head until you agree that the sky is purple.  This guy uses his charisma to influence your world view…. The goal is to take from you whatever he’s looking for.  If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

If you have fallen for Mr. Tenacious, fear not.  You are a strong, capable woman who can rise above the filth and find the light again.

The monster in your bed

As ever, I can always be fired up about domestic violence.  Today’s episode was as follows:

Guy beats girlfriend.  And can you even believe this???  That bitch hit him back.   And she blacked pwecious’s wittle eye.  Alert the media.  So his female relative approached her and advised that she would gut her like a fish if she saw another black eye on pwecious.  Because, you know, a good woman stands there and takes it while her man kicks her ass.

Oh, my sunshine.  Let me talk to you a wee bit about being a woman.  First of all, the average woman stands with other women when it comes to wife beaters.  It is really not acceptable behavior.  Hands are for hugging, not for hitting.   I bet you don’t know that if a girl is scared to leave the bathroom in a bar because her old man is on a tear, you have a moral obligation to assist her in her plight.

Men ruled the earth for thousands of years due solely to a slightly larger skeletal frame.  Most guys have it all over us when it comes to sheer brute force.  If he wants to kick your ass, he’s probably going to succeed.  So…. We level the playing field with our smarticles.  We rely on other women to back us up.

Now I have seen some crazy shit in my life time.  I have seen the 110 lb woman with the skull fracture get the cuffs put on her when her hubby, who went 280, had a scratch.  I have seen women lose their children because their batterer will not stay away.  But it’s not usual to see a woman threaten another woman for fighting back.

When October comes, I’ll be sporting my pink and purple hair for DV and breast cancer.  I have sheltered many a woman from her batterer…. And I will do it again.    For the rest of my life, I will have a compression fracture in my spine because a man decided I needed a beating.  A woman I love is developing dementia because she had so many head injuries.  At the end of the day, women have each other and not a hell of a lot else.

The monster in your bed is powerful. He steals your soul in ways that you don’t fully appreciate at the time.  Maybe you need his financial support….maybe you’re so far gone you think you need him to survive.  By and large, most women will help you.    If you are still capable of fighting back…. For the love of all things good and holy in this world, do it. 


There is no dying in baseball!!

As a single mom, I can tell you there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish your basic life needs, let alone be everything to everyone. Sometimes, the things that matter slip through the cracks. The people who matter slip through the cracks.

Someone near and dear to me recently attempted suicide. I am probably one of the people on this earth best equipped to judge their mental state and I wasn’t paying attention. Thank the powers that be that it was unsuccessful. What’s especially ironic is that just last week, my kids and I played in a tournament to benefit suicide prevention.

Take the time. To look, to love, to listen…. When something gives you a wiggle, don’t let yourself be so bogged down in the minutia that you can’t see the people you love struggling.

Old friend, I know you read here. The world would not be quite as bright and shiny without you in it. You’ve got kids that love and need you. Fight for your life. You’re worth it.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline Phone Number


For fuck’s sake…. Don’t die. Blessed be.

YouTube Teaches Everything

Single moms, pay attention.  YouTube can teach you to do darned near anything.   You need to install a dishwasher?  YouTube knows how.  Yucky holes where the door used to hang?  YouTube’s got your back.   Need to put in flooring, bake a weird cake, clean out your oven?  Check it out, YouTube will have a three to five minute instructional video.

If, like me, there’s always too much month at the end of the money, this is useful information.  You can honestly fix most anything yourself.  I admit, I choose not to mess with electrical wiring.  There are little useful tips that someone should pull you aside and tell you…. Like…. Plumbing is NOT righty-tighty, lefty-loosy.  Can you even believe it?  That would have been good information before I was an hour into tightening the hell out of a drain pipe I really needed to loosen.

Being honest, it’s always harder to actually complete the task than it looks.  It’s ok to cry.  The pipes won’t mind.

What’s with the name??

Shannon is my given name…. why the heck am I an Irish Gypsy??  It all started with my last redneck boyfriend and his charming mother.  You see, being myself is always a tricky proposition.  It did not end well with the Queen Mother.    I don’t really think it was personal….. I have tattoos, you see.  Did you know that in her day, the only women who got tattoos were gypsies and hookers?  Said out loud the first time I met her and Every. Single. Time.  I ever saw the woman.

Soooo…. Thank you, Cher, for Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.  My daughter, shameless hussy that she is, with that breast cancer butterfly commemorating her grandmother’s life, would hum that to me at blessed events held at his family’s castle.  God knows, I sure as hell was born in the wagon of a traveling show….

And… Well, I’m Irish.