Observations by Key Monroe~~Home of Right Opinions, Cynical Viewpoints, and TMI in Hefty Doses
|E-mail: keymonroe [at] alltel [dot] net

May 31, 2005

Better Late Than Never!

I may be two chapters behind in my linkage, but HEY!, I HAVE been reading. If you are behind, catch up now, before the Velocimaster gets ahold of it:

Chapter Five authored by Eric
Chapter Six authored by Pammy

(Don't listen to him Pammy; he can do. He's just publishing the handicap, as any savvy marketing guru would do.)

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posted by Key on 07:18 PM | Comments (1)

Thank You Wonderful People

Dear Blogworld,

You just cannot know how much your support means to me re the post on my foster son. I have been struggling with guilt over this decision-in-the-making for months.

While I haven't questioned the "rightness" of it, it has still weighed heavy. So I appreciate the support and linkage. Just when I thought I was sick of blogworld, I find it giving me warm fuzzies.

And to those of you who sent over your lovely readers, thank you. I now have new blood to research, and just in time, as my roll already needs a makeover.

Love Always,
Key Monroe
Troublemaker, Brat (as Jack so often calls me), and totally undeserving of your kind words, though I soak them up like a sponge. (File that under typical blogger profile.)

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posted by Key on 07:08 PM | Comments (6)

May 30, 2005

Happy Memorial Day

I must link my girl, who pays tribute to our song. If nothing else unites us, the chills when this song is in the air should.

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posted by Key on 10:00 PM | Comments (2)

May 29, 2005

I've Been Detached

Yes, I have been putting things up just to take up space, as I have been of no mind to write.

It has not been work. It has not been blogworld drama.

I have been battling a very difficult decision, one which I only shared with a handful of people.

A year ago this week, I took a foster child into my home.

He was three (almost four) at the time, malnourished, bald (due to lice), and was not potty-trained. He was scared, and he had little to no social skills. He had never been to a ballpark, had never heard of Santa.

It has been a busy year.

We've conquered the potty monster, introduced a boy to an ocean, had a birthday party, played soccer, developed a studly spike hairstyle, had a bountiful Christmas, learned our ABC's, made cupcakes and cookies, and played tee-ball.

He has learned "please," "thank you," and at bedtime, we have shared many an "I love you." And I quickly became "mom."

We faced his natural parents in a court scheduled panel review in the spring, and it became obvious to me that they were no longer a viable option for placement. After nine months, they had not had one negative drug screen. Not one.

And so, I stressed.

He thought he was going back "home." But I knew better, and I wanted to be there for him to pick up the pieces. And the caseworkers wanted to know what had been plaguing me for weeks: if parental rights were to be terminated, would we adopt him?

Problem: This child is not perfect. What child is? He is passive-aggressive. He doesn't listen. He resists schedules and routines. He has nervous habits. The list goes on, but it pretty much goes with the territory. Additional work, love, stress...that's part of the deal.

I wanted a son. I would make the effort. I envisioned a grown man -with character, strength, and humility- calling me mom, opening doors for me, and sharing stories of his success. And of course, supplying me with a multitude of grandchildren to sugar up. ....But this isn't about me.

My husband did not bond with this child. He just didn't. I think he's always wanted a son too, but not this one. They just didn't click. And so I knew that he could not be the father that the boy deserves. And so...

I had to make the call. Then, voice mails unreturned, I walked in to the DFCS office. I announced to the appropriate people that not only would we not be able to adopt this child to whom I have been mom for a year, but we would not be adopting at all. Ever. "We are retiring," I told the head of placement.

She shook her head and was obviously disappointed. "I had heard, but I wasn't going to believe it," she said, "not until I heard it from you."

It has been three years, and we have had six long term placements, and while I know that I could be passionate about children forever, my family is burnt out, and I must respect that.

But I refused to let this child be shuffled back into the system. I know that we are not the only foster parents who have burned out. I also know that there are many, many less than ideal homes out there.

And so...I made a pest of myself. I know that there are classes every year in which new families are approved for foster/adoption. I also know that the psyche coming out of this class is optimal for giving, loving, bonding.

So I demanded that he go to an adoptive couple out of that class. Of course, no one had to listen to me, nor did they want to, as the paperwork on these folks takes months to approve. So other suggestions were made...

"How about placing him with these two ladies? They would like another boy."

And I thought: Yeah, I'll bet the freaks would. I know the mother/daughter pair. They are strange. And they already have two boys, and it actually seems to be working, but one of the boys is an absolute hellion. This I thought, but I said, "No, he needs to be the focus for a while with no sibling rivalry, and he needs a father figure."

The next suggestion was in favor of a single lady who never married, but wanted kids, and already had one placed with her.

Being certain that she already had as much as she could handle, I again reinforced the need for a father figure and inquired about couples having just finished the course.

Sigh. That involved work on the part of the understaffed DFCS office. I understood. I sympathize. But dammit, this is important.

"Well, there is this one couple. Your age, no kids. They have almost all of their paperwork turned in..."

I made her head spin. "Let's call. Now!" We called from her office, and I invited the couple to my foster son's tee-ball game.

They were excited. They came. They took one look at those big, blue eyes of his and fell in love instantly.

And as my heart began to leave my body, I was thrilled that I had saved him from the system. They would adopt, and he would have a mom and dad forever.

And I would have a few weeks to get used to the idea while the couple's paperwork was rushed through the approval process.

Those few weeks and the past few weeks have been one and the same. I couldn't really begin to deal, so being a procrastinater, I simply put off the inevitable.

The call came Friday. "Pack him up; he's ready to go!" And I swallowed hard and mustered a "Wonderful...how's seven?"

And so we came home and grilled burgers and did bath-time. I taped boxes and began filling them, and tried not to cry... not until he left. I couldn't let him see me upset.

He was going to a sleepover with the nice couple he had spent the last two Saturdays with! They were going to the lake!

We had discussed moving, new mommy and daddy, and did he think it would be nice to live with this new couple? He did.

He didn't get it. I looked into his inquiring blue eyes as he watched his possessions pile into a box and I knew... he just didn't understand.

And so they came. And we carried out his things. And I hugged him ten extra times, and told him I loved him over and over, even following him as he was put into the carseat to tell him one more time.

Only then did I let the tears fall.

I made the right decision. I know this. I will see him again. They will need a babysitter, and such precious gems are hard to come by.

But this weekend has been rough. ...It's a "mommy" thing.

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posted by Key on 08:44 PM | Comments (27)
» Bad Bad Juju links with: YABU DOES HAVE A HEART AND SOUL
» Velociworld links with: BETTER FOLK THAN I
» Neanderpundit links with: Og's law in action
» Gut Rumbles links with: nothing pains me worse

May 27, 2005

I'm On It

I'm tagged!

I'm on it Bro...tomorrow, promise. As I am currently out of town and using a pc which isn't mine, I am out of borrowed time.

But I'm good for it. Scoutish honor.

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posted by Key on 12:43 AM | Comments (0)

I Thought I Lived In Bumfuk

I don't.

My cousin does. It shall be named Douglas, and it sits in the midst of a triangulation of three towns, Jesup, Waycross, and Mystic, which shall hereinafter be referred to as the bumfuk triangle. This is an area which - GASP! - has NO Cingular coverage.

But wait! Let there be cable modem! Yar, baby. Actually better than my crappy diap-up. Ergo, I was forced to rerecognize my blog as a source of entertainment.

And yet, I need more time to do ya peeps right, so more when I land myself back into civilization.

Stay tuned.

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posted by Key on 12:37 AM | Comments (4)

May 23, 2005

Like Black Cotton Candy Leftover From Easter

She is beautiful, isn't she?

Isn't it amazing how cats can plant their furry asses in the most retarded places, and then have the nerve to stare at any onlooker as though they are the crudest form of life?

It's like they're freebasing on arrogance. This one in particular. I am hopelessly drawn to her.


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posted by Key on 02:53 PM | Comments (4)

Following Dreams With Wild Abandon

Oh, to be three.

Brat. The rules will get him one day. Story here.


(I know it's old now, but I gotta love the pic. Here's another link courtesy Cat.)

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posted by Key on 01:44 PM | Comments (1)

May 19, 2005



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posted by Key on 05:40 PM | Comments (3)

Cabbage Patch Baby

The Real Apple of my Eye...


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posted by Key on 05:34 PM | Comments (3)

Apple of My Eye


Update: No takers? I thought for sure someone would want a tattoo of this on their ass.

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posted by Key on 05:03 PM | Comments (1)

Quiz, in Lieu of Writing

I am so misunderstood.

What Is Your Animal Personality?

brought to you by Quizilla

(Found it through Acidman. Oddly enough, Shrek and Acidman got the same results...)

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posted by Key on 04:59 PM | Comments (6)
» Velociworld links with: I AM THE CROW
» suburban blight links with: Caw! Caw!

May 16, 2005

Is Mercury in Retrograde?

Does hit-seeking make one INSANE? I'd like to take a friggin baseball bat to the Sitemeter function sometimes. And not just on MY site...

I think many bloggers would be much more tolerable if they had no friggin clue how many hits they were getting relative to their peers.

Maybe everyone's Sitemeter should be password protected. It's too big. It's the friggin currency of blogworld. And yet, we don't tattoo our bank balances on our foreheads. And WHY not?

People are distressing, finessing, blessing, OBSESSING over these damn stats.

My averages? Here ya go...

Typical, nonpimping averages since inception - 200/day
During tsunami googlanche - 400s
After - 300s
Preceding meet - upper 300s
Blogwar with Acidhead - upper 400s (topping at 900 day of)
Postwar (rubbahneckahs hoping for update) - 300s
And lately, given lack of such juice - 200s and dropping

So Moogs has a point. I could, uh, write more often. And I will, I want to. But first, I need a break. I haven't been in the mood to write, but I kept thinking that I had to, lest my faithful few disappear into the abyss, never again to resurface.

Through my stress, the fog has lifted, and now I see just how stupid that line of reasoning was.

Almost as ass-backwards as this comment:

That's what happens when you don't like to be the butt of all jokes anymore. You got just what you wanted.
posted by Acidman on May 16, 2005 04:06 PM

What the eternal fuck?

Hell yeah, I got what I wanted. I will not be paid with an Acidbath for my willingness to take public abuse. Are you fucking kidding me?

Having said that, I am tired of this bullshit. When I come back from my reprieve, your Acidic ass is going BACK on my blogroll, where it shall stay, as you are and shall remain my blogfather.

I will have no more of this nonsense.

Nor will I be the butt of ANYONE'S jokes. Period. Try it, you grumpy old goat, and fear sleep, as you just may wake under the scalpel of one Dr. Sven, having just become that which you despise so...

Pesky vapors. Make me do the damnedest things.

Postscript: Before I go, I must roll the credits on the post-war drama, and give what is due to the blogbud who's Indian name shall forever after be He Who Stands For Ladies. Heh...

Update: Man, I guess I can be vague. Let me spell it out. I am not pouting about traffic, not MINE anyway. I'm complaining about everyone else's.

Those silly little numbers, melting people's brains, making them crazy, valuing links, gifting accordingly, watching the peons clamor for them. WTF? Bureaucratic bullshit in blogworld?

I stay in my bubble, and I ignore. Well, my bubble done got bursted. I'll be back when it reforms.

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posted by Key on 10:51 PM | Comments (14)
» Cadillac Tight links with: Burying the hatchet

May 14, 2005


Dead. Dead. Dead.

Either I suck, or blogworld died.

Or Sitemeter has the dry heaves again. Or my anti-blog-pimping indignation/laziness has bitten me in the ass.

I'm sprinkling some blow over the keyboard for good measure. If it doesn't work, I may have to do some renovating. Maybe I'll trade the tan in for purple, get the place at least looking pimp.

Also, a "bloggers whom I've met in person" sidebar list is long overdue, so I'll be working on that as well.

And not to be drastic, but I'm also considering writing more often. Well, that's the pipe dream anyway.

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posted by Key on 04:58 PM | Comments (8)

Model T Gangs

I didn't know they existed.

Fifty bikers floating in on Harleys, into the diner for an hour, hit the gas station, and back out of town...yeah, that happens.

This, I've never seen. No festival in town. They all just whizzed in an out yesterday during the lunch hour.




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posted by Key on 02:59 PM | Comments (3)

May 12, 2005


McCaulay Culkin is full of it.

My guess is that he's not talking because in his little head whatever happened was consensual and private, and perhaps not at all inappropriate. Or he's too embarrassed to give it up. Or he feels that it would be betrayal of a friendship that he considered to be genuine.

Regardless of the reason, the boy ain't right.

He went from being the "the most famous and richest child star there ever was" to dropping off the face of the earth. A few roles, yes, but nothing like we thought we'd see out of him after Home Alone.

And a Hollywood star can weather a bad divorce and custody battle as we would a bad day at the office. So I'm not buying that as what broke him.

Then there was a wedding at eighteen, getting picked up for drugs, not to mention looking like complete hell in the arrest pic...

I'm sure by now Culkin means to put the past behind him, and hopefully get on with his career. Unfortunately, Hollywood is not that forgiving. He faded out when momentum was high, remained silent when reporters cared enough to ask, and now attempts to shake a stigma that is firmly in place.

My guess is that Jackson is not only guilty of molesting Culkin, but also wrecking the lively spirit that we saw, and only saw, in Home Alone. The selfish acts of one man very likely destroyed the career of another, and quite possibly any hope of a healthy relationship.

...unless he decides one day to grow up and deal with it. Clearly that day isn't today.

(Disclaimer: Yes, it has occurred to me that Culkin may be telling the truth. However, it is my opinion -and that's why I'm here by the way-, that he is not. I do not, however, demand that he is lying, as it is possible that he believes that he is answering truthfully. Regarding substantiation for my opinion... what do I look like a professional journalist? I don't need no freeeaking substantiation. I go on hunch. However, there is this.)

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posted by Key on 12:52 PM | Comments (13)

May 11, 2005

I Read It Again

My girl Kel knocked out a killer chapter in the western series. I had to reread it again today to fully appreciate.

Before reading that last bit, I was convinced that there were a list of low-lifes that I could kill with my bare hands (or die trying) given the opportunity. (This would include John Couey, Jerry Hobbs, and the like.)

But now, I'm thinking that they just need to be pigbitched, alive of course. For starters, anyway.

If you are behind in your reading of The Gunslinger, as I was, here are your preceding chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

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posted by Key on 05:08 PM | Comments (2)

Oh Baby You...

You got a disease.

Or could have. The runaway bride may have a valid excuse for her erratic behavior, as well as those "deer in headlight" eyeballs of hers.

I'm no expert on such dealings, but I'm guessing that if Wilbanks tests positive for Grave's disease, it could put a bit of a kink into the plans of all parties involved.

(Wilbanks is currently hiding out undergoing treatment, while her ex-friends opportune on eBay.)

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posted by Key on 02:47 PM | Comments (2)

May 08, 2005

To The Moms

Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!

To all of these mommies, as well as all of you others on the roll or out there in blogdom...

And for all of the noses wiped, booboos kissed, interference ran, sacrifices made, ulcers caused, and sanity compromised...

And because we wouldn't change any of it for the world...

Happy Mother's Day.

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posted by Key on 11:02 PM | Comments (5)

May 06, 2005


Do you ever feel like painting the grass pink and sky green and the trees purple and the clouds magenta and the birds chartreuse and the lake an iridescent rainbow, as an oil spot in a puddled parking lot?

I do.

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posted by Key on 10:54 PM | Comments (8)
» Straight White Guy links with: C'mon over...

May 05, 2005

I Had To Wear Heels Today

So I had a real estate closing today of the commercial variety...on my own personal investment.

I usually LIVE for closings... They either mean a pay check, a piece of earth that I can call my own, or a reshuffling of assets which ends up saving me money.

But this was different, one of those deals where right up to the closing table I was asking myself if this was the right way to go, as the timing seemed off in my opinion. But the husband was a GO!, and there was no reasoning with the man who had his eye on the prize.

So it went.

And the ominous cloud surrounding my aura felt validated when it met the closing attorney.

Our closing attorney was Quentin Tarantino.

You think I jest? Okay, fine, I see your point. Why would Quentin Tarantino moonlight as a closing attorney in Bumfuck, Georgia?

Okay, valid.

But the guy is spitting image. Sadie, girl, I thought of you, thinking perhaps that you could appreciate the likeness moreso than I. Still... I wondered how everyone else could be so calm, as I waited expectantly for the guy to unload a round into us.

Of course the weapon was a fountain pen, and I won't see the damage for years to come.

On the bright side, refreshments were served. (And I can't tell you how long it had been since I'd had a rolo.)

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posted by Key on 10:26 PM | Comments (2)

Oh...Why Didn't Ya Say So?

She had ISSUES.

Heh, I guess we have that in common.

(Read what the runaway bride has to say for herself HERE, but my love is for that fleeting headline above.)

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posted by Key on 09:32 PM | Comments (3)
» Shadowscope links with: Jennifer Wilbanks

May 04, 2005

It Hurts!

Have I mentioned that I gave birth to a drama queen?

And this is not your garden-variety, driven-snow, blogworld drama, noooo.... This child knows drama in its purest and simplest form. The thin veil of mock maturity is not adopted in an effort to mute self-absorption.

She was four hours old as she thrashed and gasped in my arms, seven pounds of end-of-the-world frustration personified, because this lugnut creature holding her did not seem to get the emergence of the situation.

I was in the process of reaching into a convoluted gown in an attempt to uncover some nourishment for the child, but I had to take to a moment to smile lovingly at this little fireball, in appreciation for her first performance.

Of course I called her both a "drama queen," as well as "temper prone," but, as I mentioned, I did so smiling. And my aunt, the only one who had stayed through the long, sleepless night, rebuked me for my early labeling.

(Yeah, she took it back. Over and over again, in fact...each and every time she did any babysitting for me.)

My baby is now nine. And now she seeks the performance, would. just. die. if she missed American Idol, learns and repeats lines from her favorite sit-coms, and draws a SHARP intake of breath over everything from anxiety over spilt milk to excitement over the discovery of a new fruit roll up flavor.

And tonight... as I tucked this precious Priss into her bed, and hugged her, she began what I call a "spaz attack" level of squirminess, and exclaimed, "It hurts! Mom! Oooohhhh! It HURTS! It sooooo hurts..." then quietly, giving into the inevitable agony, "Uh, the loooove, Oh. it. hurts..."

She wants acting classes. Maybe I should cave on this one.

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posted by Key on 10:30 PM | Comments (2)

May 03, 2005

I Get By

With a little help from my friends.

Of course, they could have been in it for the testicular fortitude, but I'm going to bask in the glory of the hinky linky love none-the-less.

Both of these pals just hated to see a google search for pitted tonsils be my 100,000th, as did I, so in the wee hours of the morning, Sitemeter was loaded down with Velociworld and Suburban Blight referrals squeezing out the riffraff, for which I am duly appreciative.

Problem? I may have call this one a tie.

I am confused. Sitemeter declared Velociman the winner when I checked it at 4 in the morning, an hour after it tripped over. Then I checked again around ten this morning, and it looked to be the Blightess, so I refreshed and checked again. Velociman.

Fucking Sitemeter.

I hope you two are joined at the hip, because you're going to be sharing a testicle. Heh.

(I will post a pic of the harmless looking stress ball tomorrow; it's just not the same though, you really have to squeeeeze it.)

Update: One more thing.... CLICK HERE. NOW. Good. You see, I am going to be at a ballgame tonight, and could very well miss Velociman's 200,000th, so you guys go hit him for me. Make it hurt. Bruise him even.

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posted by Key on 05:09 PM | Comments (4)
» Pajama Pundits links with: A to Z Linkfest #4
» 红外测温仪 links with: 红外测温仪

May 02, 2005

He Still Claims Me

He disappeared for a while, but I did not give up, nor did I remove him from the roll. I knew he'd be back. I knew my big bro would not abandon me!

However, he did change his identity. So now, after a year of being pig-headedly stubborn, I will remove "Bejus" from the blogroll and replace it with Tobacco Joe. Welcome home hon.

(Who the hell let you out anyhow? California Hotel rules apply.)

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posted by Key on 05:18 PM | Comments (2)

Boogie's Run

We just received a work order on that street. Add that to the list of addresses I would not like to have.

Although, I would like to point out the obvious: Boogies do not run, they are picked.

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posted by Key on 01:07 PM | Comments (1)

Re Jennifer Wilbanks

So proud to call her a local.

The wedding is not off she says, just postponed.

Uh, yee-ah. You think that.

If he's stoopid enough to take her back, he deserves her.

(Hannity will be interviewing the groom tonight; I will be watching.)

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posted by Key on 12:00 PM | Comments (10)
» Fistful of Fortnights links with: That Idiot Bride.
» Shadowscope links with: I fucking told you so