tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-174205372024-03-13T03:48:05.124-07:00It's written all over your faceUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1149879787000569162006-06-09T10:13:00.000-07:002006-06-09T13:01:51.253-07:00Gotta launder my karmaWow, I have been MIA for a while. You probably thought that whole cow scenario did me in, didn'tcha! A bovine was indeed found in enough time to save the day and with the exception of wet weather, the event was a success.<br /><br />Since I last posted, that extra work that I spoke woefully of and had convinced myself would be my undoing turned out to be not as taxing and free-time murdering as I thought. Not yet anyway, and the entire process of hiring an assistant practically happened overnight and the person who was hired is precisely the kind of person I had hoped to find. Yeah, so that's all been good.<br /><br />In personal news, I've been dealing with some behind-the-scenes stuff that I really worried over but it too has also turned out to be not as bad as I thought. One situation in particular has been almost a blessing in disguise, and though I choose not to divulge the particulars, I know everything is gonna be alright.<br /><br />STILTS is out of seventh grade and is gonna be big MAN on campus now boyeee. He pulled up a particularly dismal math grade was proud of his accomplishment, as was I and his dad. My only concern is: WHATTHEHELLIMGOINGTODOWITHHIMFORTHENEXTSEVENTYONEDAYSUNTIL<br />SCHOOLSTARTSAGAIN??!!??<br /><br />Oh yeah, something else to report. I also turned another year older while I was away. The event played itself out in such a cute, comical way too, I just have to share it with you. You don't mind do you? Good!<br /><br />Since mid-May I have been having thoughts like, "Oh my birthday shouldn't be so bad even though it falls on a Monday and I'll probably have to work but....my friends will keep my spirits up and tell me funny was to cope with growing older and send me loving, funny cards, and it'll be fine.<br /><br />It'll be fine.<br /><br />My boss told me the Friday before that he wouldn't be here that day because he was taking his pregnant wife to the beach that whole weekend. AND, my assistant had asked for the day off weeks in advance so she could volunteer at a charity golf tournament.<br /><br />So the day arrives and I wake to a homemade banner strung across the dining room doorway, which was hung in place after I had gone to bed. Sweet! Yay, my family loves me. I get dressed and go to work in an uneventful fashion and discover that my boss IS working despite what he had told me a few days earlier. It seems his wife is feeling lousy so the trip was cancelled. And that was the basis of our routine morning conversation before he disappeared back to his office.<br /><br />Fast forward an hour or two and I get a surprise visit from a semi-relation who drops off a card and gift, and right after that flowers are delivered from my sweet and why-did-you-have-to-retire-come-back-we-need-you old boss and his wife. Two other people who work in the building have gone in together on a birthday card and present it to me with their best wishes and hey, things aren't so bad, right!?<br /><br />Having heard the commotion, my boss comes down stairs and says IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, "Who got the presents and flowers? Are they for me?"<br /><br />I raised my eyebrows and smiled sweetly at him (still stupidly harboring the thought that he DOES know what the day is and is just playing dumb so he can give me a card when everyone else does) and said, "No, they're for me...for my <em>birthday</em>."<br /><br />Instantly his face turns to that funny ass look of dumbfoundedness before he utters the following, "So why are you working?"<br /><br />I think I winced at him. I know my face contorted and I must've looked like I just stepped barefooted in cat furball throwup or like I just got a whiff of tar or eau d' skunk or farts out of Piper when she eats crap that STILTS sneaks to her.<br /><br />And unfortunately, before I had the chance to remind him that he was supposed to be enjoying this time at the coast with sand between his toes with his pregnant wife, he heads back upstairs and calls down the bannister, "Oops, your present will be belated!"<br /><br />Whatever. What. ever. I'm just gonna laugh. I'm just gonna breathe and laugh.<br /><br />Lunchtime rolls around and I've checked my email and cellphone voicemail and answering machine at home. Hmmm, nothing much except for a bunch of spam and a couple of pre-recorded calls at home urging me to vote for such and such candidate in the primary elections tomorrow. Good thing I brought a bag of lettuce to work and ooooooh, I think there's still some reduced fat Triscuits under my desk! Wheeeeeee! Such a treat.<br /><br />During lunch, I start a mental checklist. Have I forgotten anyone's birthday? No, I can say I have not dropped that ball in awhile. I mean, SURE, I've pansied out sort of by sending some Hallmarked e-cards, but they're nice to get and MANY times I send a real paper card and/or gift, but I have not Alzheimered away any of my friend's birthdays in a long time. I want them to know that I love them and that I am happy they are here on this planet by GOD.<br /><br />By the time I leave for the day, I've found out that dinner plans have been scrapped because half of the people interested in eating away my goddamned celebration aren't feeling very good. Which is fine because I can remember a very recent time people who weren't feeling good forced themselves to go to dinner on a special occasion. It was an extremely uncomfortable situation and I wasn't even one of the people in pain!!<br /><br />I call STILTS and ask him what he wants for dinner and he asks if I'll get him a Subway sandwich, and being the loving mother I am, I go and wait in line on a Monday night, in my neighborhood Subway, for 25 minutes because it seems EVERYONE else in the vicinity has decided that they want fresh delicious sandwiches tonight too. Any OTHER night, it would have been empty...empty I tell ya because I have been there on any OTHER night and it has been empty. EMPTY I tell ya!<br /><br />Fine. Laugh. Breathe. Pull over and have a short cry in front of Walgreen's.<br /><br />Then I remind myself that maybe there will be mailed cards waiting for me at home. Yeah, maybe people who love me actually took the time to shop for pretty colored paper and write amusing anecdotes for my pleasure on this one special day out of the whole friggin year that's supposed to be mine.<br /><br />I get there and deliver the sandwich and go look for the mail...hmmm.<br /><br />"STILTS, where's the mail?"<br /><br />"I put it where you told me to always put it."<br /><br />"Oh, is that all there was, cause I only found the bill for my gas card and that high school reunion reminder crap."<br /><br />"That's what you got Mom."<br /><br />My grandpa, BLESS HIS SOUL, loved to tell me tales about his youth or the horrors of being a Marine in Iwo Jima, tales about being a sodajerk, working for the railroad and then as a cop and then a detective and how he always paid cash for anything and never fell into the credit trap. Tales that I ended up hearing from him over and over and over. Tales that if I didn't think he'd beat the crap out of me in a loving way because I was showing off which was something only HE could do goddammit, I could tell him because I knew them so well. And after 2 or more hours of listening to these tales he would say, "And to cut a long story short, I'll leave you with that."<br /><br />And to cut my story short, only 1 out of 6 friends (people classified as non-work-related, non-relation and non-semi-relation) remembered my birthday.<br /><br />I'm thinking I should really count myself blessed and fortunate because I DID receive lovely wishes telling me how much I'm thought of from my ex-boss, co-workers, a few semi-relations, my painful parents, Piper, Woogey, Nosey, Dizzy, STILTS and STILTS' dad.<br /><br />And while the day wasn't completely a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088128/">Samantha Baker</a>, I'm just trying not to wince.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1142900779456266512006-03-20T16:23:00.000-08:002006-03-20T16:26:19.480-08:00It's the final countdown<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Oy!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I've got one week to find a mellow heifer for a two day stint in a trailer fashioned as a mobile dairy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Who said this job wasn't fun?!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1142354346196722662006-03-14T08:22:00.000-08:002006-03-14T08:39:06.210-08:00Don't want to be your monkey wrenchHi internet! How are you?<br /><br />I really had every intention of posting way before now. Honest.<br /><br />There I was, trying to be organized, trying to stay on top of this major project at work that ends in 14 days, trying to balance living, sleeping, teenager rearing.....and BLAM!<br /><br />I get handed MORE work at work, and of a completely different nature.<br /><br />I knew it was coming. I had fair warning. It's just that an agreement was made for this work to begin in the summer, <strong><em>AFTER</em></strong> the major project was completed and there was plenty of available time to prepare for the additional responsibilities.<br /><br />Oh nonononono. Nope, plans changed. We do not want to wait for you to have available time to implement this new aspect of your job. It must be done NOW...for no good reason. AND you must still keep on top of the major project that's over in 14 days too.<br /><br />But wait........it's sort of hard to be one person doing the jobs of at least 3 people. I don't want to put a bad light on the organization with poor quality work. Are you sure we can't work something else out?<br /><br />Sure thing! We'll hire more help.<br /><br />Whew....that's a relief! Thanks a bunch, I'm sorry I even raised an eyebrow. Gosh, I feel so silly!<br /><br />Oh, no problem - not to worry. Just write the classified listing and do the hiring too. Everything's fine!<br /><br />Huh? Write the classified listing AND hire the extra help? Great.....MORE work!<br /><br /><br />Sooooo.............there it is, my life right now. Banana anyone?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1140810242403849522006-02-24T11:35:00.000-08:002006-02-24T11:45:20.436-08:00HolidayI'm running away.<br /><br />For the weekend.<br /><br />And not even the entire weekend, just Saturday morning through Sunday afternoon.<br /><br />Heading out to lovely Santa Barbara, home of <a href="http://www.santabarbarazoo.org/">ring-tailed lemurs</a>, a Jerry Seinfeld sighting*, <a href="http://www.fussy.org/2006/02/last-thursday-jack-called-me-at-work.html">cast-off cardigans and Spiderman boxer-wearing English Bulldogs</a>.<br /><br />I'm taking lots of pix so hopefully I'll have enough fun fodder for next week!<br /><br />I hope you all have a nice weekend too. Tah tah for now.<br /><br /><br />* One of several brushes with famous folks I plan to blog about in the future!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1140734290133035072006-02-23T13:47:00.000-08:002006-02-23T14:45:41.326-08:00Melancholy and the infinite sadnessTomorrow will mark the first anniversary of my Grandfather's passing.<br /><br />It's hard to comprehend that so many days have gone by since I last heard his voice calling me. He'd say, "Missy! Are you givin' 'em Hell? Don't let em get you down, Tiger!" He always told me I had more going for me in my little finger than most people had in their whole lives. What can you say to a biased Grandparent?<br /><br />It's been a tough year for all of us, especially my Mom and her two sisters. I know sometimes when the phone rings, she hopes to hear either his voice or my Grandmother's on the other end.<br /><br />Both of my Grandmothers passed away three and a half years ago. My Dad's Mother in late summer and my Mom's Mother in late November.<br /><br />I never really knew my Dad's Father. He was always kind of a family mystery to me until a few years ago. My Dad never really talked about him much, but as he gets older he starts retelling past experiences and memories, which I appreciate.<br /><br />I love thinking about my Grandparents. The memories I have of them comfort me...particular things each of them would say, like my Grandma M calling me "Sugarplum" or Grandma N loving to indulge in crushed saltine crackers and milk. Somtimes these memories leave me smiling and other times, well...they leave my eyes red and puffy from welled-up tears flowing down my cheeks because I know all I have of them now are memories.<br /><br />Loss is an overwhelming feeling to deal with. I don't care how stabile your emotions are, loss is heartbreaking. I really hope family members, pets and friends who have left this Earth have gone on to somewhere wonderful. I don't know that I care to label that place specifically, but imagining them happy and healthy is much easier to handle than thinking that their spirits ended with their last breaths. When I cry, it's because I'm feeling selfish that they aren't here for me anymore.<br /><br />And I miss them more than I have tears to shed.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#6633ff;"><span style="color:#333399;">When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.</span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#333399;">- <strong>Kahlil Gibran</strong></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1140036272137482742006-02-15T12:06:00.000-08:002006-02-15T12:52:48.516-08:00Lips like sugar, sugar kissesYes, my lips like sugar. Hey, my entire body likes it! I guess it would be safe to say that I LOVE sugar. And with yesterday being Valentine's Day, it was just one more excuse to ingest MORE SUGAR!<br /><br />I thought it might be difficult to attempt a sugarless day. I thought I might get a cookie or 2, or a box of conversation hearts. I had hoped that no one would forget that I cannot consume chocolate because of my <strike>affliction</strike> <a href="http://www.rosacea.org/">condition</a>.<br /><br />Yeah, let's just say it was all pretty much over when my boss brought in a huge red heart box BRIMMING with QUALITY chocolates that his pregnant wife received. She's experiencing extreme morning sickness and told him to get the vile thing out of the house.<br /><br />And it really didn't help when my Mom called to tell me she had made fudge for STILTS.<br /><br />C'est la vie!<br /><br /><br />In other news: I need a new pillow.<br /><br />I don't know if ANYONE else in the world has as much trouble with pillows as I do, but DAMN IT! I can NEVER find a pillow that stays lofty without murdering the outer cartilage of my ears. For a long time now, I've been accustomed to sleeping with 2 pillows so that I wouldn't have an aching neck. Being a side sleeper, my ears end up being pressure points and need to be cushioned.<br /><br />The kind of pillow arrangement that suits me best is to have a not-too-thick but moderately firm pillow on the bottom, and a lofty and super soft pillow on the top. That way, I have the height for my neck but my ears don't feel like burning embers either! My problems isn't usually with the bottom pillow as much as it is with the top. If the pillow is soft enough, it's either far too thick or far too thin, and I've even tried making my own from the innards of those hard to find softies. It's a cumbersome task that winds up with the looking like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man just blew up all over the windows and the floors.<br /><br />I realize this is probably a very lame rant. I know you're probably thinking that pillows are the least of ANYONE's worries. I agree. It should be that way. Lord how I WISH it were that way.<br /><br />And as long as I'm wishing, I wish that I didn't have an entire mouth full of sweet teeth either!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1139850758698281612006-02-13T08:41:00.000-08:002006-02-13T12:44:23.093-08:00It's logical to me<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Once a weekend, STILTS and I wind up praying to our gods of commerce at our favorite holy shrine, <em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Target</span></em>.<br /><br />I don't know what it is about that place. Why I do not feel complete without visiting at least ONCE a week, why I cannot go there and buy the true necessities ONLY, and leave those red tagged clearance items ALONE! If you read any number of blogs, you'll almost always find <a href="http://slavetotarget.blogspot.com/">others</a> with the addiction.<br /><br />Anyway, we were there yesterday afternoon because a few of STILT'S relatives gave him <em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Target</span></em> gift cards for his birthday last week. He was raring to use them on music, PSP or PS2 games, or those clever tshirts with annoyingly witty phrases. So we're cruising the aisles, me trying to help him shop and ignore the India marketplace items that have gone on clearance, and him trying to decide what he wanted.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Thirty minutes, two complete sweeps of the store and an empty shopping cart later - I ask, "So. Are you going to - you know - <em>buy anything</em>?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">He skewered his mouth over to the side and wrinkled his nose and let out a deep sigh. " I don't know. Nothing looks worth it."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"You mean now that you have gift cards to spend instead of MY money, nothing looks 'worth it'?"</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My I'm-getting-perturbed eyebrow raise kicks in.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"When you're broke you manage to find lots of stuff you just HAVE to HAVE! You're totally sure, there's nothing at all you want now?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Nuh uh, sorry."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Fine, let's grab some Desani and go."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">We get through the small market section and head over to the check out lines and end up right next to the boxes of sports, Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh and other trading cards.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Oooh, wait a minute Mom! Let me look at these," he declares. I pull the cart out of line to avoid a mass pile-up and wait. some. more.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">A few moments later, it looks as though he's found something worthy of purchasing. It's a box of NFL trading cards, something like 64 of them for $19.99. He's really happy and pleased and as he starts walking over, his brow furrows and his mouth gets that scrunched look again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Awww MAN!"<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"What is it, what's wrong?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"The box says you can't open it."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"What?" I'm not sure I heard him correctly.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"It says on the box, DO NOT OPEN!" he groaned, completely flabbergasted.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Let me see it," I say as I take the box from him. And sure enough in black letters with a bright yellow sunburst to grab your attention, it reads: 'Bonus trading card box. Do not open or separate.'</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Oh. It just means they don't want people in the stores opening the box and selling the packs individually - the packs are supposed to be kept together. It's fine, you can buy it."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Complete relief washed over him and he said, "I thought if I bought the box, I'd never be able to open it to see the cards!"</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1139761036469514462006-02-12T07:22:00.000-08:002006-02-16T09:03:47.500-08:00Zing went the strings of my heart - Part 2My boss asked if there was any dog food left in the breakroom. I told him that when Piper (my Pug) doesn't like a particular dry food, I've brought it in for the strays. So we took him to the copy room where he could be closed in for the time being.<br /><br />He did not like that. at. all.<br /><br />The 'giggles' quickly turned into high pitched yelps of "Oh no! No wait! Come back!!" So I stayed with him so he would relax and eat.<br /><br />I knew I couldn't leave him, his yelps would ultimately disturb the other tenants in the building. He followed me back to my work space and laid down -- ON MY LAP! Do you know that old song, "the daring young man on the flying trapeze?" My boy didn't need a trapeze! With one graceful grande jete, he was off the floor and in my face in the blink of an eye.<br /><br />And I was beginning to think he had a former life as a yoga instructor, because when he wasn't jumping, he was bowing down low to the floor and stretching his hind legs out with cat-like fluidity...not in the flicky - kicky manner like a lot of small dogs do. I put him back on the floor and told him I had to get a little work done. He laid right by my feet, happy as could be.<br /><br />By lunchtime, the other tenants had come to see him. One of them said, "My, what a wooly doggie."<br /><br />Which made me start thinking....Wooley....Woggey....Woogey. That's a fun name!<br /><br />"HEY!! (I began having a conversation with myself.) You've already got a dog with a superior princessa attitude. This guy isn't going to go over with her very well. And he's going to have to have shots and get neutered and CERTAINLY groomed, not to mention who knows what else."<br /><br />"I know, but I can't bring myself to turn him over to a shelter. You know the crappy conditions at the county one, and the other two non-kill places are going to be filled to capacity. I'm sure there's something I can do for him, someone who will want him."<br /><br />"Uh huh."<br /><br />"Besides, look at him! He's so cute, AND talented. He's not just any dog."<br /><br />"Pffttt."<br /><br />One month later:<br /><br />Woogey is successfully making the transition from abandoned stray to full-fledged member of my household. Piper out weighs him by a long shot, but she hasn't inflicted her patent wrestling moves that the cats have to endure. He'll stick his nose right under her hind legs and lift them up.<br /><br />"But I don't WANT to practice yoga!" I imagine her saying as her eyes bug out indignantly.<br /><br />Between the money I've spent at Petsmart and the vet's office, I think I've qualified myself as a shareholder AT LEAST in one of the companies! Still, I can't think of anywhere else this Lhasa Poo mix could have wound up. He jumps and stretches and kisses me with gratitude every single day. He giggles all the time.<br /><br />Last week, I was writing on our calendar that Woogey joined us January 13th. STILTS came up behind me and said, "Hey, that was 113. Just like our house number."<br /><br />How about that. Woogey really was waiting for me!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/1600/P1010108.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/320/P1010108.jpg" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1139614662688593152006-02-10T15:26:00.000-08:002006-02-11T21:00:27.350-08:00Zing went the strings of my heart - Part 1<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Friday, January 13, 2006: It started out like most of my days: up extremely early, bleary-eyed by 9 am.<br /><br />I have a ‘bad’ habit of reading all of my favorite blogs when I first get to work. Yes, I know I also have a ‘bad’ habit of reading them all through the day, but nevermind.<br /><br />Anyway, I had just finished reading Secret Agent Josephine’s post about her friend, Lori, who works with a <a href="http://www.karmarescue.org/">truly amazing organization</a> that helps abandoned dogs. SAJ posted a link to <a href="http://photographerlori.my-expressions.com/">Lori’s blog</a>, and there I read about heartbreakers like <a href="http://photographerlori.my-expressions.com/archives/810_1463848145/118155">Georgie</a> and <a href="http://photographerlori.my-expressions.com/archives/810_1463848145/118230">Jazz</a>.<br /><br /><em>ASIDE: Please take a moment and click through those links, even if you're not in the position to donate, there just might be some other way to be a part of a terrific organization!</em><br /><br />I was practically sobbing by the end of the story and knew I had to help in some way. While a huge donation was fiscally impossible for me, I managed to wring out enough dough to provide a little bit to one of these lost babies. I hoped it had made a tiny difference.<br /><br />No sooner had I wiped my nose and out of the corner of my eye, I see a little black ‘something’ go darting past one of the glass doors that lead into our lobby. I wasn’t too surprised because my office is located just to the south of the county animal shelter. Unfortunately, heartless monsters drop off dogs and cats out here all the time. These fucktards believe that even though the shelter is closed, leaving the animal in the parking lot is just as good. (I try my best to refrain from cursing, but there really isn’t any other word to describe these ‘people’. I’ve had a hand in helping two abandoned dogs find really good homes in the last year alone!)<br /><br />Mornings in this area are prone to heavy traffic. There’s a school bus maintenance yard less than half a mile away and I didn’t want whatever it was to get hit. So I took a shortcut through the breakroom and opened the backdoor. The ‘thing’ was a little black dog who had turned the corner of the building and was sitting on the doormat, waiting.<br /><br />Yes, waiting. Most likely for me.<br /><br />LEAPING! Lizards! As soon as the ‘thing’ saw me, it jumped straight up off of the mat in fluid motion. Just as soon as it hit the ground, UP it sprang again – this time adding a little wiggle. So I grabbed it up and brought it in, all the while it was making noises that reminded me of giggles....if such a creature COULD giggle. The poor dear was dirty, and was covered in small thorn-like stickers, probably picked up from being in the vacant, tumbleweed-infested field nearby.<br /><br />I was surprised at how light it was, since the black, matted dreadlocks underneath the stickers made it look heavier. I brought it into the area where my desk is. I’m surrounded by a counter with a little door that can be opened and shut. So once we were closed in, I decided to have a closer look.<br /><br />Two big, brown eyes. One small, wet nose. Two black and tan, floppy ears. One tail that had not stopped wagging. Four black legs with tan colored fur beginning just about where an ankle would be. Okay.<br /><br />One very sweet and happy dog was again doing his yo-yo impersonation for me. I couldn’t stop laughing. Actually, it took me another 15 minutes to get him to settle down long enough for me to conclude that he IS male. I wasn’t too worried what my boss would say. He’s just as much an animal lover as I am and he’s even helped me get dogs into the building before.<br /><br />He had come downstairs after hearing me laughing and said, “Oh boy. Who’s your new friend?”<br /><br />I smiled at him and answered, “I don’t know, but here we go again.”</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/1600/woog1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/320/woog1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1139445419315919902006-02-08T16:31:00.000-08:002006-02-09T15:45:04.053-08:00Where have all the cowboys gone**Hello!<br /><br />I haven't stopped to realize how terribly LONG it's been since posting! Time flies when you've been absorbed with work-related projects, stomach misshaps, training a new canine addition to the household, and really trying to come to terms with being the mother of a teenager!<br /><br />Alas, this entry is short and not too informational, but if you give me just a little more time, I will be back! All brand new and shiney too.<br /><br /><br />**NO, I have not seen <em>Brokeback Mountain</em>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1137019159453034172006-01-11T14:29:00.000-08:002006-01-19T09:12:39.370-08:00Who are you<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Cause I really wanna know.<br /><br />To pop myself back into the groove of posting, I'm downright stealing this idea from </span><a href="http://www.whoorl.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Whoorl</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">** who took it from </span><a href="http://sizzlesays.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ms. Sizzle </span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. But I'm starting a giant project at work and I really want to write too, so at least here's some sort of post!<br /><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"><strong>The A to Z of Me!</strong></span><br /><br />[A is for age:]<br />Hmm. Yeah, well that would be 37.<br /><br />[B is for booze of choice:]<br />You know, I really don't like beer. It's probably because that was the very first stuff I ever had a totally nasty hangover from. I was around 19 and at a party and everyone was playing quarters and I totally sucked at it and ended up drinking something equivalent to 6 beers in less than an hour. YUCK! However, now...I love anything with rum or vodka or Bahama Mamas from the Red Lobster.<br /><br />[C is for career:]<br />I feel like a "Jill of all trades". I've done a little bit of a lot of things, but now I'm an executive multi-tasker for a non-profit corporation, specializing in event organizing and web stuff.<br /><br />[D is for your dog's name:] Piper is our 18 month old Pug. She's a total hoot. It's so "funny" if you don't give her attention. You know, the constant kind...unless she's sleeping or eating or trying to perform the People's Elbow wrestling move on either one of the cats. You know, then she wants you to leave her the hell alone. So ignore her just a little bit and she gives one of her patented temper tantrums whereby she runs all over the house with MY underwear. Why, Piper? WHY?<br /><br />[E is for essential items you use everyday:]<br />Water. The computer. The bathroom. The phone. Basic stuff.<br /><br />[F is for favorite song(s) at the moment:]<br />I loved "Such Great Heights" by the Postal Service until it became the commercial jingle du jour. And my all time favorite is "Everlong" by the Foo Fighters.<br /><br />[G is for favorite games:]<br />I like to think I rock at air hockey.<br /><br />[H is for hometown:] It's infamously known as Bako.<br /><br />[I is for instruments you play:]<br />I played the flute and piano when I was younger and I can still read music.<br /><br />[J is for jam or jelly you like:]<br />Seedless red raspberry and apricot spice.<br /><br />[K is for kids:]<br />One, STILTS who is 3 weeks shy of 'official teenagerismdom'.<br /><br />[L is for last kiss:]<br />This morning in the car from STILTS in front of his school on my cheek in an total rush to avoid anyone seeing him perform such a vile act.<br /><br />[M is for most admired trait:]<br />I have no idea what people could admire about me. However, I admire perseverance, loyalty and unwavering honesty.<br /><br />[N is for name of your crush:]<br />Oh yeah, nothing like publicly admitting who gets ya hot. Let’s see, for me it’s Jake Gyllenhaal, Ewan McGregor (non Obi-Wan), Josh Lucas, and Ralph Fiennes.<br /><br />[O is for overnight hospital stays:]<br />First one when I was eight and had my tonsils out and second one when I was twenty-four and had STILTS.<br /><br />[P is for phobias:]<br />I’m sure there are a lot of situations/things in general that scare me on a daily basis, I just don't ponder them. Big time worries though include the bird flu and Mother Earth finally telling us all to kiss her ass.<br /><br />[Q is for quotes you like:]<br />“I'll try anything once, twice if I like it, three times to make sure.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">- Mae West<br /><br />[R is for biggest regret:]<br />Not spending enough time with either one of my Grandmothers before they passed away.<br /><br />[S is for sweets of your choice:]<br />Key Lime Pie and Lemon Meringue Pie this week.<br /><br />[T is for time you wake up:]<br />4:50 am during the week and sometime between 7:00 and 8:00 am on the weekends.<br /><br />[U is for underwear:]</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today, the pair that's torn just a bit.<br /><br />[V is for vegetables you love:]<br />Mixed veggies from Panda Express! I do not like hot lettuce though, like on a toasted sandwich or reheated taco. Bleech.<br /><br />[W is for worst habit:]<br />I had to think about this in a not-at-all-claiming-to-be-perfect way. My worst habit is taking time to clean things or put things away just before I should be going out the door to work or somewhere. It’s a compulsion.<br /><br />[X is for x-rays you've had:]<br />Dental, of course. Two of my lower back and one of my right foot.<br /><br />[Y is for yummy food you make:]<br />Cheesecake squares, cheese enchiladas, and mushroom/carrot lasagna.<br /><br />[Z is for zodiac sign:]<br />Gemini. There was a time when a vast majority of my family and friends had a birthday somewhere between May 22nd and June 21st too!<br /><br /><br />** Congratulations on your impending mini-Whoorl! :O) </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1135715680322958732005-12-27T12:26:00.000-08:002006-01-05T15:28:11.793-08:00Christmas wrap up<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hello!<br /><br />I hope your holidays have been joyous and terrific.<br /><br />In the last week to 10 days, I have:<br /><br />1. Spent far too much money.<br />2. Eaten way too much food.<br />3. Drank oh so much booze.<br />4. Been so very mad at myself for all of the above.<br />5. Enjoyed letting friends and family know how much they mean to me, not at just this time of year -- but every single day!<br /><br />STILTS managed to get his most wanted present, a Sony PSP. I have to admit, they are tres cool. If you have a big enough memory card in them, you can download lots and lots of stuff to it and make it...well, a portable entertainment system!<br /><br />I managed to get a new digital camera. I like it very much and after I learn to work it, I will post more and more photos on this very blog, yes indeedy.<br /><br />I get to spend New Year's Eve with E and her family and A too! E's here visiting her Mom and her Mom is having a big party, with KARAOKE no less! Woo Hoo Hoo....I am excited.<br /><br />I hope you all have a terrific New Year and I'll be posting again very soon.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1134691718921116502005-12-15T16:00:00.000-08:002005-12-19T15:08:07.710-08:00It's definitely Miss Jackson<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">NASTY BUGS!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Good grief. I had done my best to avoid getting sick and thought I had done a groovy job. Last week though, I had a mild to moderate cold that only lasted 4 days -- presumably because I was so full of shtuff that would combat those nasty old cold virus germs.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And I had a few days of wellness.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Yesterday, they came back with a VENGENCE! I shivered in bed last night without the ability to relax and warm up under the 3 feet of blankets I was buried under. My body was racked with pain. My voice comes and goes. But I haven't got a fever or any green mucus. I have a cough and my chest feel filled with fog but that's it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What planet did these germs come from?</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1134082556370030662005-12-08T14:55:00.000-08:002006-02-09T14:24:54.093-08:00That's what friends are for<span style="font-family:verdana;">I met E and A my Freshman year of high school. They had already been friends years earlier and whenever I saw the two of them together, I was envious of that strong bond. They weren't in the popular cliques but they weren't looked down upon either. Any time they were hanging around together, they looked happy and like they were having F.U.N.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">My best friend from elementary school and middle school was going to a different high school and whenever we spent any time together, I could see drastic changes in her that made me uncomfortable. In the summer leading up to high school, LSL had become more willing to "experiment" with boys, drinking and other activities I decided I wasn't really ready for. By Christmas break she was earning straight A's in all the WRONG extra-curricular subjects and our 5 year friendship was dying. Sadly, I never really talked to her any more and despite the differences between us, I really missed her.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">When classes started back up in January, I would spend my lunch eating red licorice or one of those fried burritos high school cafeterias excelled in marketing. Our campus was one of the very first built in the city and had it's own large auditorium with a connecting 3 or 4 story classroom building. Flanking the entrance to the auditorium were 2 sets of fire escapes, made of lovely concrete with just enough shelter at the top for a bored and very lonely me to sit and freeze. My rear end had had enough of it and I decided I was going to crack that pair open and wedge my way in!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I haven't seen E since she moved away in 1997. She's coming out at Christmas with her daughter and her boyfriend/significant other/great-sounding-guy. It's going to be terrific to get together after all this time. I can't wait to see her daughter, who in pictures is the INCARNATION of E.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">A and I have had our hot and cold spells when it comes to communicating. Our lives have definitely changed from sitting in her room late at night plotting how we'd win Mtv's Spring Break contest with the Beastie Boys in Daytona Beach. But when we do get together, she can still make my ribs ache from laughing so hard.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">You know, thinking back to that fateful time when I realized I wanted to be their friend, I also remembered how they were as sweet then as they are now and I didn't have to try very hard. They welcomed me into their hi-jinx faster than you can pull on a pair of fishnets and high heels...yeah, much faster.<br /><br />High speed montage through the years with lots of laughs, tears, triumphs, disappointments, scares, uncertainty, boyfriends, secrets, careers, husbands, children thrown in. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Oh........ and love. Don't forget the love.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1133826132746521832005-12-05T15:38:00.000-08:002005-12-05T15:42:12.746-08:00Dash away all<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I can cast stiches onto the knitting needle, but I cannot wrap my brain around the actual knitting part!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm going to get a crochet hook. At least I'll be able to DO something.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1133561133244699892005-12-02T13:49:00.000-08:002005-12-02T14:14:47.746-08:00Suffer the children<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There's lots of shit going on in the world to make a person fume. Plenty of injustice and horror everywhere, every minute, every second.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Last night, on the way home I witnessed one right in front of me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I was in the car at a signal light, waiting my turn when I saw a mother and her two daughters waiting for their turn to use the crosswalk. Work has been going on at this particular intersection for a while and it's finished for the most part but the crosswalks need to be repainted.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The mother looked to be in her mid to late 40's and the girls were 8ish and maybe 4. The older girl was carrying bags of something, possibly groceries. The mom was also carrying one similar bag in one hand. The other hand looked to be free.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The little toddler girl -- honestly, 4 years old is pushing it -- was holding a big book out in front of her.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So they start to cross and the older girl has her head down, like her only care is to get to the other side of the street. The mother starts to make her way across and calls to the toddler to get in front of her. The little girl warbles off the sidewalk and quickly walks ahead of her mother, but I could tell she wasn't really sure where she was supposed to go. Then, she takes </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">a few more steps, and she's nearly heading for the middle of this VERY BUSY INTERSECTION! Her mother yells at her, "Nuh uh...THIS way!" So she starts to head back in the general direction of her mother's voice but she didn't know that cars were mere feet from her!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The mother makes no effort to have the little girl walk right by her, she does not take ahold of her hand or clamp on to her little head or GRAB ahold of any part of her body that would shepherd her SAFELY across the street. Miraculously, she gets to the other side.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When the mother was walking past my car, her free hand was illuminated by the headlights. She had a cigarette between her fingers. She carried her hand all jutted out at a right angle, away from her body as if she was afraid it was going to get damaged.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When for the love of GOD is a cigarette MORE important that the safety and well-being of a child? WHEN?? A child who isn't capable of knowing that's she's supposed to follow her older sister or stay by her mother, is left to fend for herself for the sake of a cancer stick. <br /><br />Isn't it great to know that she's got people looking out for her at such a young age? I bet she gets to breathe plenty of fresh, second-hand smoke too!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1133472190166232772005-12-01T11:37:00.000-08:002005-12-02T13:48:46.073-08:00Hey there lil' red riding hood<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My office building has four entrances. One is a back door, mainly used by employees or people who come here regularly and know it's there. Another one is the entrance to the insurance agency in the North half of the building, and the there are two are on either side of my work area.<br /><br />The owner of the insurance agency needed a temp receptionist and when the lady showed up, she came through one of our entrances.<br /><br /><strong>Her accoutrements preceded her.<br /></strong><br />Get your mind out the gutter people, I'm not talking about THOSE accoutrements! DANG.<br /><br /></span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/1600/redtote.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="144" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/200/redtote.jpg" width="115" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Anyway, she was lugging a very large, red leather tote bag that was disguised as her purse. It was large and obviously full of something. I mean, it was big enough to hold her belongings plus a few small dogs, their puppies and several loaves of bread. Like the one in this photo, but wider -- MUCH wider.<br /><br />THEN, on the same arm (no less), she was carrying what looked to me like a ginormous Longaberger basket. Like the one in the picture, but with a handle going </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">across the basket and not so deep. Are you getting a mental picture yet?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/1600/basket.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="97" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/200/basket.jpg" width="110" border="0" /></span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It too was laden with plenty of stuff, and for a moment, when she came through the door, I thought perhaps she was from a bakery or sandwich shop and had decided to come out to the barren side of town to peddle her wares!</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was <em>this</em> close to fishing my wallet out to buy something from her when she asked if I was the insurance agent. I begrudgingly smiled and let her through the hallway to where she was supposed to go. I couldn't help but peer into her basket hoping she was hiding maple nut muffins wrapped in that clingy, saran-cello crap.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">First of all -- what, What, WHAT could you POSSIBLY need to bring to a temp job with you that you couldn't live without for 8 hours? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You know, it wasn't like she was toting a baby, she looked financially capable of having a babysitter even if she had been young enough to be a recent mother. Good grief, h</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">er CADILLAC DEVILLE was parked less than 20 yards from the insurance office door. If she needed something THAT bad, couldn't she just slogg on out there and get it?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Secondly, I realize you're temping for one entire day - which would be no big RISK of getting fired or anything. But if you're going to an office that you have no prior knowlege of how big it is, or if there's a lot of room where you're going to be, or if there's even SPACE to stow your luggage....um, wouldn't you want to bring as little as possible in with you?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm sure she's a very nice person, and the bag and basket were in lovely condition....but let's leave the parcels on the chuck wagon, especially if there ain't no maple nut muffins in em!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1133395921621586852005-11-30T16:08:00.000-08:002005-12-02T14:18:24.533-08:00The sweetest thing<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This has got to be one of the sweetest, most heartwarming sights I have viewed in a very long time: </span><a href="http://nationalzoo.si.edu/Animals/GiantPandas/" target="blank"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">CLICK THIS</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />It's the webcam dedicated to the new baby Panda, Tai Shan and his momma, Mei Xiang at the National Zoo in Washington, D.C.<br /><br />Just watch it for a few minutes and see if you don't have a huge, goofy grin on your face!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1133376788957004762005-11-30T10:46:00.000-08:002006-02-12T09:53:47.376-08:00Oh the pain of it all<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Last night, I was in bed at 6:45 with a severe case of the chills and body aches. I didn't have a fever though. I drank a dose of </span><a href="http://www.airbornehealth.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Airborne</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> just to play it safe.<br /><br />Today, my head feels like it's going to explode right off my neck, my chills are back and my vision is kinda blurry. Still, no fever and no major symptoms. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wonder if it's possible to just get a little sick? Kinda like your body fights off certain germs - maybe the more powerful and destructive ones, and lets the minor little ones slide by.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1133305887204431712005-11-29T14:45:00.000-08:002005-11-30T10:56:00.196-08:00It's in his kiss<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">That's where it is! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><a href="http://www.canada.com/edmonton/edmontonjournal/news/story.html?id=4d435f49-aa31-4d14-8d3b-5bc16d355d74"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">THIS story</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> hit me sort of unexpectedly hard. Young girls are always dreaming of that end all be all kiss from their true loves and that poor girl got it, literally. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As a rosacea sufferer, I know what it's like to eat something that has an almost instantaneous reaction on my face. I also have allergies with certain foods. Onions for instance will cause my heart to race and leave me feeling dizzy. I had something once at a Chinese restaurant that did virtually the same thing AND made me feel like my throat was closing on me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She MUST have known that she was allergic to peanuts if an epi-pen used to treat anaphylaxis was used on her immediately following. Couldn't she smell them on her boyfriend's breath? I realize that by the time she could taste them, she would have known it was too late.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How terribly sad for her family and especially her boyfriend. My heart goes out to them.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ahh, in other news...I'm waddling around like most everyone else from eating too much Thanksgiving food. Maybe YOU have more self control than I do, but dang -- pumpkin pie is my oh my!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Also, I'm changing PRETEEN's pseudonym to STILTS. Why? He is now 5 feet 8.25 inches tall. And it's sorta funny because all the growth is going to his torso. He's still wearing his 29x30 jeans without any problem. Men's size small shirts are too short for him and even though the mediums look better, he likes the length in size large. Bro-ther.</span> I just think they look sloppier.<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Just more drudgery at the ol' salt mines. I'm considering taking up knitting as a hobby. My aunt knits and crochets and once upon a time, she taught me a few basic crochet steps. I really love the new yarns that have come out...so soft and airy or bold and chunky. So IF you get something knitted for Christmas, it just might have been made by me....maybe!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1131574364802401542005-11-09T13:58:00.000-08:002005-11-14T08:36:14.453-08:00It's (not) raining men or anything else for that matter<div class="post-body"><p><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"></span></strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><div class="post-body"><div class="post-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body">Besides the 10,000 degree summers, the city in which I live is a veritable yawn fest when it comes to weather. In my nearly 40 years here, there have been 1 or 2 dust storms, 2.45 times that it accidentally snowed, numerous Winter mornings when it was surprisingly cold enough overnight to freeze the water pipes and lots of tulle fog sprinkled in for good measure.<br /></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body">I've been laughing at the newspaper, local weather people and of course the weather channel since Monday. They have all proclaimed that we'd be receiving rain...you know, any time now. 70% chance of showers during the morning, tapering off to 40% over night. Uh huh. Sure.<br /><br /></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body">According to <a href="http://www.weather.com">weather.com</a> people, we WILL have water dripping from the sky during the evening commute!!!<br /><br /></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body">Mother Nature loves to use this area as her personal science experiment, and often times she will stick our area under a big, invisible dome. Sort of like duck under glass, sort of. We've got the clouds and the warm (WARM? In November?!!) breeze, but nary the tiniest droplette has fallen from the sky.<br /><br />Quack.</div></div></div></div></div></div></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1131140029043719442005-11-01T13:31:00.000-08:002005-11-07T12:55:06.363-08:00R-E-S-P-E-C-T<div class="post-body"><p><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;"></span></strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><div class="post-body"><div class="post-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><p>Dear PRETEEN,</p><p>As I watch you changing daily, gnawing on your fingernails and cuticles, trying to figure out what's real about this world and what's fabricated, I want to jump on your ass and cram you into a box and not let you out ever again.</p><p>No really, it upsets me to see you changing all the time, doing this "I'm growing up" thing. So what if I did it to your grandparents, MY growing up didn't rip their hearts out! I can't stand to see you leave your childhood behind. You didn't trick or treat this Halloween because when you croak the phrase out, it sounds like James Earl Jones sucking on helium. You loom in the distance like a tall, willowy figure except that you hunch over with your hands thrust into your hoodie and your chin at your chest because walking upright isn't cool.</p><p>Oh sweet child of mine, one minute you're wanting to play (just for old times sake) the old peek a boo game that would cause you to emit hiccup-laced giggles as a baby and the next, you're hording the telephone talking to JV about football or girls or why that music is so sick.</p><p>You can definitely be four seasons in one day. I know you have a lot of turmoil to put up with inside your head. I know that sticking out for ANY reason is far too stressful than being one of the walking lemmings. I know that while your nearly 13 years of life haven't been the most conventional, they certainly have been hundreds of times better than most. Which is why I cannot abide by the disrespectful nature you have been adopting lately.</p><p>My son, until you are old enough to leave the house and begin your own journey through this world, you WILL abide by my rules. These rules are set by me for your own protection, safety and all around wellness. I am not trying to keep you from becoming anything but a sensible person who makes decisions based upon logic instead of flipping a coin. I would also rather see you come to despise me for making you get up and go to school only to be "BORED TO DEATH" for six and a half hours a day, than hear you asking me if I "want fries with that" six and a half years from now.</p><p>I do NOT want to run your life. I repeat: I DO NOT WANT TO RUN YOUR LIFE! However, until the day comes when you are sufficiently capable of doing it ALL on your own, I will be your superior officer with the 37 years of experience you lack. I may not know everything, but I sure do know a lot more than you! So don't you DARE take that tone with me cause I will catapult you into next week so fast, your clothes will be last year's cast offs!</p><p>I know you love me. I know you're a good person. I know you detest waking up in the morning just as much as I do. But guess what? Going to school is the EASY part! Getting an education is so much BETTER than working day after day in a dead-end job. You can be ANYTHING you want my boy. The sky is the limit, and with the space program -- it probably isn't even that! You are so smart and you're a natural at so many things, just don't sell yourself short!</p><p>And really, if you wouldn't mind...please give me a break. You know I'm your #1 fan. You do for me and I'm there for you. Take the trash out and make sure Piper gets her dinner before we find her chewing on your socks or the chair again. Please just cut out this business of being conveniently lazy! Your brain is too good to waste.</p><p>I love you my boy, my son, my darling baby.</p></div></div></div></div></div></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1131140271448476462005-10-26T15:58:00.000-07:002005-11-07T10:02:35.946-08:00Don't give up on us baby<div class="post-body"><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Wow people...where does time go?<div class="post-body"><div class="post-body"><div class="post-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><p>I am so L-A-Z-Y when it comes to posting. I promised y'all and myself that this would not happen and LO and BEHOLD, I did it again. I played with your hearts, got lost in the game...ooh baybee, baybuh...OOPS.</p><p>Anyway, I have conquered one of my annual MAJOR projects at work this last week and am moving full steam ahead onto the next. And of course Halloween is just around the corner and my some of my local peeps are having a party and I'm orchestrating it for them because I do that stuffage too. Gee, you think I should go into the party/event/project planning business for myself? NAH!</p><p>If ever I was ca-RAZY with my thinkin, I surely would be thinkin I should do that!!</p><p>Back with more SOOOOON! OK? OK! </p><p>LOVIN YOU!</p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1131141893941362472005-09-22T15:59:00.000-07:002005-11-09T14:19:27.166-08:00Wot U (Think U) Need<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><div class="post-body"><div class="post-body"><div class="post-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><div class="entry-content"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/1600/jdinxs.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" height="161" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/200/jdinxs.jpg" width="105" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="entry-body">You think after they have him grow his hair out, they'll get what they wanted all along?</div><div class="entry-body"><br />After seeing the finale last night, I understand why they chose him. He sounds just like Michael. They were looking for a replacement, not a new lead singer! </div><div class="entry-body"><br />Feh. </div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body"></div><div class="entry-body">Don't you know they had to have PAID the other non-finalists to return! I know I wouldn't have wanted to sit there for an hour or more having to relive that agony again, thinking "That should've been me, that should have been me, why wasn't that me!" </div><div class="entry-body"><br /></div><div class="entry-body">I hope some of them get a better chance for solo careers. Many of them would be amazing on their own, and a few of them shouldn't leave those day jobs! </div><div class="entry-body"><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/1600/noinxs4u.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" height="268" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/640/1679/320/noinxs4u.jpg" width="137" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17420537.post-1131139821443828682005-09-19T15:25:00.000-07:002005-11-07T10:05:34.786-08:00Hair today and tomorrow<div class="post-body"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><div class="post-body"><div class="entry-content"><div class="entry-body"><p>I don't get it.</p><p>My son has bee-yoo-tee-ful hair. It's a gorgeous dark brown with to die for chestnut highlights. It's the color I'd LOVE to find in a bottle for my own dye job. It's full without being too thick and it shines like a brand new penny. It's straight, unlike mine which has a natural wave to it and he won't have to ever EVER worry about his father's untimely receeding hairline affecting him.</p><p>When he was born, my kid's hair was sandy blonde. He wasn't ever a full on tow-head...but he had enough of the blonde going on that I wondered if it would stay with him most of his life. Then, when he was about 2, I was giving him a "trim" at home and needless to say...got way carried away with the clippers and gave the poor kid a buzz cut.</p><p>It started growing back the color it is now and he's asked me if I'm responsible for making him miss his opportunity to be a blonde. He's never let me forget it. Not. ever. No. forgetting. Ever.</p><p>When his hair is clean and he's just dried it with the hair-dryer, you really have to restrain yourself from running your fingers through it. It's enough to make any male model from an Abercrombie & Fitch ad green with envy...it's THAT sweet. But that's not good enough for him.</p><p>WHY, can somebody just tell me WHY it is that he feels the need to transform himself into <a href="http://www.aspipes.org/images/famous/moe.jpg">Moe Howard</a>? No offense please. I love the Stooges just as much as anyone -- n'yuk, n'uyk -- but soitenly, there has got to be a reason he plasters each and every hair down onto his head!</p><p>We've had many a heated tete a tete over this. His says he likes his "style" and I ask him how many other kids run around with bowl cuts at school. I ask him to ask his girl friends (girls who are friends) what kind of hair cuts they think he would look good in. He gets mad and says they would laugh at him for asking that. </p><p>I'm thinking, "And they aren't laughing at you with the shallacked do?"</p><p>I know he's got to create his own sense of self, his own style, his own HIM. I know I cannot possibly dictate who he is becoming. But for the love of all double crosses and why yie ottas -- I just want to see his forehead again!</p></div></div></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0