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Thursday, December 24, 2009

A little gift from me to you

I know what you’re thinking “It’s Christmas Eve, don’t you have about a million things you should be doing? Why are you BLOGGING instead of stringing popcorn with your kids?” Well, duh! Of course I have things to do; I’m saving them till the last minute, ‘cause that’s how I roll. Thanks for your support.

I finished the first season of MAD MEN yesterday.  Yes, I had time to watch TV~LAST MINUTE, remember? All I have to say about that is~ how lucky is Peggy that she went into labor over Thanksgiving weekend? Actually I have a lot more to say, but I’m waiting on my friend to catch up so we can go to lunch and spend an hour talking about made up people and their made up problems, because we're mature like that.

You know what’s worse than a braggy Christmas letter? A mystery. Yesterday we received a card from some friends, people we used to see pretty often, but over time our contact has dwindled to seeing each other a few times a year (half of those being chance meetings at the grocery store). Their card came yesterday with no letter and a new return address—in another town. Can you believe it? No, neither could I. They moved, without telling me. I woke up in the middle of the night wondering what the story is, and feeling a little bad that I didn’t do a better job keeping in touch.

You know what’s BETTER than a braggy Christmas letter (besides EVERYTHING)? Also in the mail yesterday was a card from my husband’s uncle and his new wife. She used her holiday stationary to tell us how they had reconnected at their 50 year high school reunion earlier in the year; both had spent many years single. She wasn’t looking to remarry, but he told her “he wasn’t going to lose her again”, he relocated, they married, and they’ve spent the rest of the year traveling the world and being happy. It was very sweet and genuine. She could teach my Granny a thing or two.

This woman says she knew Tiger was a cheatin’ ho. WHO CARES?! What I want to know is~what in heaven’s name is she holding here? Please tell me that’s not some kind of reward for good golf. ~James, I know you know what it is, spill. I’m counting on you.


Am I the only one who remembers Xanadu? I loved that movie.  I'm thinking of introducing my daughter to the magic of disco and Olivia Newton-John on roller skates. What could possibly go wrong?

Merry Christmas!!

Thursday, December 17, 2009

They're not dead yet.

One thing I especially love about this time of year is getting all of the cards and letters from people I don't get to see on a regular basis, I don't even mind the braggy ones, it's just nice to catch up.  For example in my mailbox this afternoon was this cheery holiday greeting from my Granny~

"Hope everyone is well. We are feeling some better today.     Think you often. Don't suppose I'll get to see any of you in my lifetime. We lost six in the family this year, so we are all getting older and don't get around much.

Love you all!
Granny & Uncle Melvin"

Yes friends this is the message, possibly the last she will ever write, that my grandmother sent to her favorite granddaughter this Christmas (I know I'm her favorite because even though she's on a "fixed income" she still squeezes out a $1 on my birthday---but don't tell my brothers she wouldn't want them to feel bad). It might be that you have know my granny to find this amusing, but trust me when I tell you she's not anywhere near death's door and she gets around to the Cracker Barrel just fine.  Oh, and Uncle Melvin- that's her husband who used to be her brother-in-law until her sister died.

ps~If you haven't read the post below and VOTED, what are you waiting for?


Imagine if she had planned to stay for 3 weeks

~originally posted Oct. 9, 2009~

While I was in Virginia my mother came to get me one afternoon so we could go out to dinner, as she backed out of the driveway she told me how a few months before she’d bumped the little brick wall on the the property line and how my brother keeps giving her a hard time about it. “I don’t know what his problem is; I offered to pay to repair it, I don't think he wants me to give him any money because then he wouldn't have a reason to tease me, he thinks he's so funny.”

“Did Todd (that’s my brother with the broken brick wall) tell you about my accident?”

“Mom….you just told me about your accident.”

“Oh, no, I’m not talking about the wall. My accident, the one I got into while I was staying at Granny’s house last month, did he tell you?”

Okay, he didn’t tell me, but I’m not at all surprised to hear that there was one, in fact, as she jerked the car back into her own lane for the 3rd time in 10 minutes I was starting to worry that my brother might be telling people about another accident soon.

“Well, it happened when I went to Indiana for the burial of Aunt Joanie’s ashes, which by the way was a lovely ceremony. Such a shame though, do you know that Jonny Pat died in July and his sister didn’t even come to the funeral? She always was such a spiteful girl. Speaking of spiteful, there’s this woman at work who I asked if she would trade me days off next week and she refused and I know it’s not because she has plans, she never has plans, she’s been upset with me since I told her that the earrings she wears are too flashy for work. Some people just can’t take criticism, but when you work with the public you have to think about these things, that’s why I always try to be conservative. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway; I’ll just have to reschedule my doctor’s appointment. Last month, when Jim {by the way, that’s Beautiful Jim to me and you and the guy that engraved his headstone} came to meet me in Indiana we went out to eat at this Mexican restaurant and I had such terrible heart burn after, I think I may have a touch of acid reflux so I’m hoping to get something a little stronger than Tums, but Jim didn’t get there until after my little incident”

She took a breath, so I risked it all and asked what “little incident” she was talking about. Let me just take a moment here to tell you, in the event that you ever find yourself trapped in a small space with my mother and shes controlling the conversation (and it goes without saying, that small space or not, she WILL be in control of the conversation), sometimes it’s best not to interject anything or ask any questions, I’ve seen it go terribly wrong. I think I was just so confused by then, with all death and heartburn and spite that I threw caution to the wind.


“The accident, I just told you I was in an accident. Weren’t you paying attention? I was on my way back to your Granny’s house after the funeral, you know, I was just so upset, I was really a mess. I know that everyone dies, the circle of life and all, but let me tell you, I’m just so glad I took that trip to Texas for Joanne’s birthday last spring I really would have regre…”

MOM! Tell me about the accident already.”

“I am honey, if you’ll just listen. So, I was driving along, and out of nowhere came this car into my lane, and they just barely nudged me but it was enough. Almost three thousand dollars worth of damage. It’s criminal what body shops charge these days. And that's a low estimate, we went to the guy who does all of Jim's bodywork so I think we got a pretty good deal. Anyway, it was this poor elderly couple and he just ran me right off the road. He didn’t mean to you know, I must have been in his blind spot, but let me tell you, my heart was pounding. I heard the old man tell the police officer that I might need an ambulance because I was so upset.” (I’ve seen my mother “post funeral” upset, I can only imagine what throwing an accident into the mix would do, that poor old guy probably thought she was going to have a mental breakdown on the spot) “This is the incredible part, Sue Ann, (she calls me Sue Ann when she’s trying to get my attention and let me know something is serious which believe me, by this point, was completely unnecessary) my little car was just out of control and I was gripping the steering wheel so tight and you’re probably going to laugh when I tell you this, but I know that the only thing that kept my car from rolling was that I had my suitcase in the back and it was so heavy that it kept the car upright.”

“Did the police tell you that?”

“They didn’t have to, have you ever tried to lift one of my suitcases? Honey, I was packed to a two week visit.”

*This post is an entry in The Great Experiment over at The Girl Who.  If you liked it, and you know you did, go vote for me, you know you want to. Voting opens at 9 a.m.  Naturally you should read the other entries too, and I guess you could vote for one of them if you were so inclined.  If I win I'll get my mom something nice for Christmas, it's the least I can do.  Thanks! Go HERE to read and vote.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

The power of a one of a kind homemade gift



An early Christmas gift from someone awesome.

I don’t know if the picture does it justice, but this is my new favorite thing. I'm trying to only wear it every other day. For the right price I might be able to get you one, I'm tight with the designer.

Also awesome......

Chocolate Swiss Army Knives…..from Switzerland!!

Not so awesome~

Eating a pound of fudge by yourself.  Seriously. It was a bad idea.

Having a giant inflatable Homer Simpson in your front yard is stupid. I don’t care if he is wearing a Santa suit.

When my husband does this thing-“We need to stop making fun of people, we need start eating better, we should really watch less TV”. He means ME and I just think that's kindof rude.  I hardly ever make fun of people.

A wreath on your grill is one thing, but when you go dressing your car up like a reindeer, with antlers and a red nose, that’s where I draw the line. What’s next? Stick arms and a carrot nose? Come on, doesn't your car deserve a little respect?

*The cowboy shirt is supposed to be funny, it's a joke (a pretty darn funny one if you ask me).  My husband has just informed me that not everyone would know that.  Apparently there are some people who don't share my bizzare sense of humor. Go figure.

Monday, December 14, 2009

It's Christmas and we're all in misery

I had this SUPER GREAT idea this afternoon.  I said to myself "Self, you should do some holiday baking with your children this evening."  I mean after all, I did neglect them all weekend during my 48 hour craftpalooza and what could be more fun than an evening in the kitchen with your family listening to Bing Crosby and baking treats for your friends and neighbors? (Hindsight being what it is, I can now tell you, that something like getting poked in the eye with a sharp stick could be slightly more fun.)  So I hauled my sorry self over to the grocery store and grabbed a big ol' bunch of baking supplies, then I came home and told my kids about the fun evening we were about to have and somewhere around the very second I finished saying fudge they started fighting amoungst themselves over something important like who ate the last Boston Cream Pie yogurt. You know, matters of life and death and all.

I didn't let that stop us.  We plowed ahead.  Instead of listening to Bing we watched Christmas Vacation and despite the fact that the bikering continued all blasted evening we baked those damn cookies and made the stinking fudge, and then we packed it up and shared it with our friends and family, and by golly we were so HAPPY!!! Just full of holiday joy.

Holy hell Christmas is fun.

Prepare to bask in the glory of my craftyliciousness




This weekend I completed 6 pairs of pajamas, 1 batch of fake food, a tiny apron, and two fabulous crowns.

Now is the time to thank your lucky stars if you're on my gift list, and if you aren't, to find a way to get there next year. 
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I know what you're saying.  You're saying "Sue, don't cha know you can buy a pair of pajamas at Target for $7 and a whole big box of fake food for $10?"  To be honest, I think it's really sad that you guys would say that to me.  You poor souls obviously don't know about the true spirit of Christmas.  The true spirit of Christmas comes from creating the "perfect" gift for those you love the most so they will be able to tell that you love them the most, because nothing says "I love you the most" like a one of a kind handmade gift.

Feel free to use my ambitious example to set the bar for yourselves. 

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The tree is (finally) up...


....and decorated (mostly).  Hopefully this will put a stop to (or at least slow) all of those rumors about me being "the worst mom EVER!"

Monday, December 7, 2009

Christmas cards GAH!!!

I was not not not going to send a letter. No siree. I’d had planned to write a personal note to those too old or too stubborn to join us here in the future and send everyone else a link to our family blog. Ho ho ho! If only I had the inner strength, but I don’t. Nope not one stitch of ability to fight the flow. So, after an hour deciding on the card design, an hour of updating the mailing labels, 4 hours writing 2 versions of the holiday letter (one for those with a sense of humor and one for those poor souls without), another hour begging everyone to stop complaining and just sign them for crying out loud (my husband insists on real live signatures from each family member on EVERY single stinking letter), and finally another hour at the post office, where for the love of civil servants at the MAIN BRANCH there was only one very relaxed hippie type postal employee “working”, our Christmas cards are in the mail.

Praise be. Now I can move on to my totally realistic list of gifts to make with my own two hands and the tiny bit of sanity I still possess.

I love the holidays.

Are they kidding?

I'm sorry, but this is the most annoying hokey, and unfortunatley OVERPLAYED Christmas song EVER.  Don't listen, you'll regret it.  It will get stuck in your head and play over and over all day until you are nearly insane and willing to pay money to have the Charlie Brown song replace it. 

I warned you.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Am I the only one who remembers this?

Back in the olden days when I was but a girl, we always watched Emmett Otter's Jug Band Christmas.  I think it was on HBO.  My husband had never heard of it (they didn't have HBO, he couldn't even watch that liberal ol' Captain Kangaroo, poor kid) and my kids think it's dumb, but it just doesn't feel like Christmas to me until I've forced everyone to watch at least once.



They'll thank me someday.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Totally Awesome Books to Give as Gifts

I love books. Really really love them. A friend once told me that food was the only thing she didn’t ever feel guilty buying because you HAVE to have it. That’s how I feel about books, I never feel bad about buying them. You can have your silly old groceries; the things I can’t live without are books.

This list is by no means complete, I could have gone on and on, it has taken great restraint to keep it this short. I tried to list books that would make good gifts, It would be great to hear about your favorite books to give (or receive) so please comment away.

Due to lack of space and the fact that it would have taken me all day to write the sort of descriptions these books deserve I’ve linked everything to amazon.com so you can take a look for yourself if you’d like.

And the categories are~

“If I’m going to read to someone I’d like to enjoy it too.”

Olivia~ What can I say? She’s some pig.

The Outrageous Bodacious Boliver Boggs~This book is out of print, but is usually available used on Amazon. One of our kids checked it out from the school library years ago and it quickly became a favorite bedtime story.


“Not a little kid, but not too surly yet”
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Ramona the Brave~If they met on the playground Ramona would trounce that dumb little Junie B. Jones with her horrible grammar.
*
The Mischief Makers Manual~ Our boys received this as a gift from the best aunt & uncle in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD. The 11 year old has been studying it intently trying to master each level of mischief so he can advance to the next. He’s currently saving his money so he can buy chocolate flavored laxatives to use in his holiday treats. We're very proud.



Diary of a Wimpy Kid~ Shrieking hilarious.

“Teens are impossible to buy for, but let’s give it a whirl anyway, shall we?”
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The Book Thief~ This is a young adult book but I really think it’s good for anyone over probably 13. It’s a holocaust book so it’s fairly serious and dark, but the story is so moving that you can hardly put it down.
*
Catcher in the Rye~ I asked my sons which books they like enough to read more than once. One looked at me like I was nuts and asked “Why would anyone read a book twice?” But my favorite child suggested this one. His copy is worn out from being carted around in his backpack.

Uglies~I have not read any of these (it’s a trilogy) but I have it on good authority from girls in the 14-17 set that they are not to be missed.


“Fiction for Grown Ups”
*
The Help~ If you haven’t read it already, what are you waiting for? Also, unlike some of the books I enjoy, this one is free of anything questionable that would keep you from giving it to your grandma.

The Ladies Auxiliary~ A great story about tolerance and group dynamics.




This is Where I Leave You~ Probably not the best choice for your grandma, the humor is a little dark, the relationships are complicated, there’s swearing, oh, and a tiny bit of sex. You know, the kind of book you want to stay up all night reading.

“Non-Fiction for Nerds Like Me”
*

A Voyage Long and Strange~ I haven’t read anything by Tony Horowitz that I haven’t enjoyed. He's informative and entertaining all at once.  I bet he's great at parties.



Manhunt~The story of the hunt for John Wilkes Both, this is on my nightstand, I haven’t read it yet but it comes highly recommended.

“I like to eat, but cooking isn’t my thing”
*
The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook ~ I don’t have this book (so maybe if my husband asks you what to get me….), but my sister-in-law does and from what I’ve seen it’s super groovy. I don’t especially enjoy cooking and I’m wary of trying new recipes because you never know how they will turn out. This book takes care of that problem. Everything has been tested and the best method is what you get, along with helpful tips and equipment advice. There's a baking book too. Just what I need!

There you have it. The books you should buy for everyone on your list.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Lemme just fetch you another percocet honey

My daughter is on a field trip today.  I didn't go.  I wanted to.  I love field trips, especially now that she's 9 and there's all that girl drama between her and all of her friends with their pre-hormonal mood swings.  I was going to go, but then something came up.

My husband threw out his back, I hate that phrase "threw his back out", you know what my granny calls it? Down in the back.  It makes me laugh, makes me think of going out yonder to grab some clothes off the line and some okra from the garden.  I'm going to start calling it that, because when your husband is down in the back you need a laugh. Otherwise you're just driving him to the chiropractor and fetching ice packs and propping him up and plying him with drugs all day and I hate to seem uncaring, but after 6 or 8 hours of moving that ice pack "just a little more to the right", I start to get a little cranky.  I'm small like that.

Tomorrow I'm posting my Totally Awesome Books to Give as Gifts Guide.  It's going to be, you know, totally awesome.

Friday, November 27, 2009

I had a plan

Some people look before they leap, myself, I’m more of a glancer. At the beginning of the month I (rather impulsively) entered The Great Experiment, thinking that it would be no problem at all to come up with 500 words about something, any ol’ thing, and my first time with it.

Take for example, my first bike. A John Deere. No kidding. It was yellow and green with a banana seat and a basket on the front. Man that was a great bike, sturdy too. Or the first time I shot a gun (a weapon if you will). An M16, it was pouring down rain and I was scared to death, it turned out I was pretty good at it or pretty lucky. I didn’t have to use my “skills” for real, so I guess we’ll never know which it was. Oh, I also thought it would have been hilarious to tell about the first time I met my husband’s Aunt Rita, she looks exactly like Peg Bundy, you know, big red bouffant, tight leopard print clothing, the whole package. I totally thought I was being punked.

In the end, I just couldn’t pull enough coherent thoughts together to write an entire post about any of those things.

Unfortunately, I come to you today with a cautionary tale about biting off more than you can chew. DON’T DO IT!! No matter how much your subconscious tries to convince you that you aren’t too busy or that you do have something interesting to say. Honestly, my subconscious doesn’t appear to know me at all.

This is my first time entering any kind of writing contest where I am being judged. I have fallen victim to procrastination, writer’s block, and a migraine. Worst of all I have a horrible case of stage fright. The usual suspects who read the drivel on my blog come of their own free will, but this is the first time I’ve stepped out and asked to be read (and judged).

Let this be a lesson to you (and to me). When you bite off too much, sometimes you choke, though if you chew slowly, usually you can get it down.

This is my first time, but given my propensity for impulsivity; I doubt it’ll be my last.



*This post is an entry in The Great Experiment a writing contest at The Girl Who. Feel free to head over there, read all the entries, and vote.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Is it still a vacation if I'm being tortured?

In a couple of days we'll be off on our Thanksgiving holiday.  Everyone in my family is super excited...well...almost everyone. 

I've already mentioned how travel makes me kooky.  I've had a stomach ache for a week, and I've been "pre-packing" for at least a week and a half. You don't even want to know how many lists I've made.

Just now I checked the weather for our destination.  Currently the temperature is 27 degrees, but it feels like 20. Huh?  How does it feel colder than it actually is?! (Please DO NOT say things like wind chill to explain.) Not only that but the highest temperature forcasted during our time in the Beehive State---a balmy 51.  Are they serious?

This just isn't going to work for me. First of all, there's a reason I live in Arizona, I enjoy the ovenlike climate.  It's 58 here right now and I'm ready to get out my long johns.  Secondly, do you have any idea how this changes my packing plans? Third, I don't even OWN any mittens.  I'm going to need mittens if I am expected to go anywhere at night, when the forecast tells me the temperatures could dip into the 20s.  If I get frost bite heads are gonna roll.

I'm sure that all of you who live in places with actual weather instead of just varying degrees of hot are thinking that I'm a big ninny, but I don't care.  I don't like to be cold, and I'm not ashamed to be branded a weather snob.

Friday, November 20, 2009

This afternoon I had a nice chat with my son’s algebra teacher.

I didn’t call him, he called me, and I don't think I have to tell you it wasn’t a social call. They never are.

“M-M-Mrs. Lunt? This is Mr. I’m So Smart I Teach MATH.”

I hate these calls, I’m sure he’s a very nice man but no one likes a call from a teacher and unfortunately in my line of work I’ve gotten my share plus a few. They rarely call to tell you that you have the most wonderful child, so respectful and bright, always on time and never a missed assignment. In fact I’ve NEVER gotten one of those calls. NEVER.

No, teachers save phone calls for important things, like bad news.

He skipped the small talk and jumped right in. To be fair, he teaches Jr. High, time might have been an issue, mine probably wasn’t the only call he had to make today.

“I-I-I just can’t get Nate to show his work. No matter what I say he just won’t do it. He refuses. I’ve explained many times that if I don’t see his work I can’t give him full credit but he doesn’t seem to care, he just won’t do it. For all I know he’s copying someone else’s work, you understand? Have his other teachers talked to you about this? Were his past teachers able to get him to show his work?”

I’ve gotta tell you, I feel for Mr. Math Teacher, but he’s starting to sound a little desperate here. So, I assured him that we were not aware of the problem and that I appreciated his call and we would have a talk with Nate and hopefully by Monday he would be ready to cooperate and show his work because we are on the side of knowledge and naturally we want our son to do his best in all of his classes. (We are also on the side of grounding and taking away cell phone privileges, but I didn’t tell him that.)

I guess that broke the ice and opened the flood gates because then he said~

“T-T-There’s one more thing- he’s missing 4 homework assignments from this week and he told me it’s because he’s been working at his uncle’s business, sometimes until one o’clock in the morning, and he doesn’t have time to do his homework.”

It must have been the shock of hearing about my son’s hard life that made me hysterical, because I started to laugh when I heard this. I may have even snorted.

“Nate said that?”

“Y-Y-Yes, he’s told me that on several occasions and, well, I told him that his job is being a student.”

No wonder this guy is stuttering and nervous, he thinks we’re some kind of child slave labor goons who make our kid work until one in the morning AT HIS UNCLE’S BUSINESS!!!! He probably thinks we make him wear those goofy skinny jeans too.

Let me tell you what business my son is in.

He’s discovered girls, and frankly he thinks they’re pretty neat. Word on the street is that they think he’s neat too (heaven help me) and he fancies himself a bit of a ladies man these days. Now, I don’t have any proof, but if I had to guess (and I’ve been doing this mother of boys thing for a couple of years now so I’d call it an “educated guess”) Nate just might be copying his homework, compliments of one of those lovely ladies he’s texting so frequently, and if I had to guess what he’s doing until one o’clock in the morning, I’d have to say that he’s lying in his bed thinking of witty things to say between classes, because I can hardly get him to wash the dishes and put his laundry away so the very idea that he is WORKING until 1a.m. is quite humorous. As a matter of fact, I’d pay good money to see him working anywhere until one in the morning just once.

When he gets home my plan is to mock him without mercy, because really, how long did he think he was going to be able to get by with a story like that?

Then I’m going to ground him for the rest of the semester, without work release privileges, my brother can find some other kid to work for him until all hours of the night.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Holy Heck Batman!

I have a blog!

Did you think I'd forgotten?  Nope. I've just been drowning in.... I don't know what....work, kids, anxiety over our upcoming Thanksgiving travel plans, the list goes on and on.

Why does travel make me so looney? I hate it, I don't care if I'm going by car, bus, or pack mule I start to get freaky a week or two before my departure. Nuts!  I'm just freaking nuts.

Why does my son write about how boring his life is EVERYDAY in his journal? Some day his grandchildren are going to read his musings and feel really bad that his 11 year old year was so rotten, when in fact his life is pretty okay, except the part where his evil mother forces him to journal everyday.

You want to know the best way to cure whatever ails your kids?  Make a Drs. appointment.  No kidding. The sickest child will be healed the instant the Doctor comes into the room. Apparently the best medicine is a humiliated parent.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

I don't really want to know

This evening I went into our backyard, looked up, and saw this~

It's a 16 year old boy with a long cardboard tube wrapped in orange duct tape.
When I asked what he was up to, he replied~
"It's a secret."

Sometimes that's good enough for me.
I hope he doesn't fall.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

I think I'm in love!

Yesterday I got this little book.

It’s meant to be used as a daily devotional, which technically means that I wouldn’t have started it until tomorrow, let’s just say patience isn’t my virtue (but I do have a virtue, I promise, I'll let you know what it is as soon as I pin it down).  I open it up and on the very first day she addresses one of my most frequent grammar questions: Making possessive names possessive. Which is near the top of my list of worst grammarical fears, right next to names that end in "S".

I run into this one often, see my maiden name is Thomas, which means all of my brothers are still named Thomas, which means every time I send their families anything in the mail I have to either sweat the whole-Thomas’ or Thomas’s issue or just address it to “The Thomas Family”. All of which probably sounds like a silly thing to worry about to you, but if you know anything at all about me by now you know that silly worries are my life.

A-n-d I can’t stand grammar errors. I know I make plenty, they make me all squirmy, I try so hard to avoid them, I have been known to spend some serious time fretting over an e-mail, I won’t even tell you how long it takes me to hand write a note. Oh, and when I’m on the receiving end, I know it’s so rude, I edit in my head as I read. Can you believe it? It’s awful I know, honestly, I can’t seem to stop myself. Sometimes when I’m on the phone with my, um, rhymes with nother, I'm so distracted by her grammar that I forget to pay attention (on the other hand, sometimes grammar has nothing to do with why I have tuned her out—I’m a bad daughter, okay? Happy now?!)

Anyway,the name thing.  Grammar Girl says that it’s a Style preference, in both cases.  You can add an 's (McDonald's's) or just an apostrope (McDonald's'), and the same for the names ending in "S" (Thomas's or Thomas') which means I can pretty much do whatever I like.

Thomas’ it is.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Last night I took a break from reality TV

Have you seen this show? Pretty funny.


Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Just a couple quick items~

I think I have the plague, I hesitate to call it the “flu”, but basically I feel like I’m dying, ironically, not so much that it’s keeping me from blogging. However I have nearly lost my voice. My kids are loving it.

We’ve left Halloween safely behind us and entered the joyous season I like to call “Candy Wrappers in the Dryer” (and under the bed and between the sofa cushions, pretty much everywhere but the garbage). I used to loathe this time of year but now I embrace it. It’s like confetti with cavities.

Last night when Tracy was voted off The Biggest Loser I didn’t feel as wonderful as I thought I would. I don’t know what it is about that show. No matter who gets sent home I feel sorry for them. It must be the flu.

Finally, while we’re on the topic of me watching way too much reality TV, Dancing with the Stars---Aaron Carter annoys me like nobody’s business, anyone else? He is a pretty good dancer though.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Real dinner conversation

Child 1~ “Would you please stop biting your fork its making my ears want to bleed?”

Child 2 ~“I don’t have to.”

Child 3~ “Um, actually, that couldn’t happen.”

Child 1~ “Yes it could, it’s happening RIGHT now!”

Child 2~ continues to bite fork (which for the life of me I cannot imagine being worth the “agony” she’s putting her brother through, I mean, have you ever bitten your fork?)

Child 3~ “No it couldn’t”

Child 1~ “Yes it could, you can bleed from your ears!”

Child 3~ “Technically, yes they can bleed, but ears don’t have the ability to Want to bleed.”
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It looked like this was going to go on for a while, so like any good mother I left the room. I figure part of being a functioning human being is learning how to deal with obnoxious situations just like this. Seeing as how no real blood ever made an appearance, I'm marking this one down as a parenting win.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Trick or Treat


Halloween was a success. 
Door to door candy mooching then home to watch The Brothers Grimm.
Boo!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Bad News

My daughter wants a bunny.

She’s known for a while that people have pet bunnies, she just hadn’t considered becoming a bunny owner herself. That all changed last week when the mother of one of her friends asked her if she would like to have a bunny.

Um, let’s see…… nine year old girl with no “very own pet of her very own”- Heck yes! She would love a bunny. Now that you mention it, she would love 2 bunnies, 3 if you can spare them. Thanks so much for offering!!!

“Please mom!!” She didn’t waste a second with the begging and pleading and promising to be the best little bunny owner EVER.

“I’m so sorry, we are right in the middle of our remodel right now, we can’t take on any new pets until that it’s finished.”

Wouldn’t you know that won’t be a problem? The owner of the child who owns the bunnies hasn’t bred her rabbits yet. Though she does have 2, and she’s pretty sure she has one of each, she doesn’t want to “let them get busy” until she has homes for the babies.

It’s kind of like getting pre-sale tickets for New Moon, except the torture of the main event lasts longer than 2 hours. I’m pretty sure bunnies live like 2 weeks or something. Who ever heard of selling rabbits before they have even been conceived? Considering that your target audience is little girls between the ages of 5 and 12, and all of the things that could potentially go wrong with a scheme of this sort, it’s just a dramarama waiting to happen. The sort of thing I try to avoid.

My brother had a bunny, and it didn’t end well, so I figured he was the perfect person to explain why getting into the bunny business was a bad idea. That didn’t turn out quiet like I’d hoped; you can read all about it here.

So, finally I said “Look, bunnies are cute and soft and all, but the truth is they aren’t much fun. Also, do you really think it’s fair for a rabbit to have to live its whole life in a cage just so you can have something soft to pet twice a week?” Then I tried the old, “Besides, those cages get smelly and you don’t think I’m going to clean up after a bunny do you? No ma’am you would be on your own, and trust me, that’s gonna be a lot less fun than cleaning the litter box, which reminds me, we have a cat for Pete’s sake. How are you planning to keep the cat from eating the rabbit?” Then I took a breath and noticed that I was talking to myself because she had gotten bored with my lecture and wandered away.

I knew there was no choice but to involve my husband. This is a risky move because he has been known to be a.) a sucker when it comes to getting any kind of pet and b.) a giant sucker when his one and only little girl wants, well, pretty much anything. On the other hand, the kids know that, at least on the livestock front, if you can’t talk dad into it, it ain’t happenin’.

I explained our position on the whole bunny issue to him and made him repeat the key points back to me, then, with my fingers crossed I left him to read her a bedtime story and break the news. On my way out I heard him say “Mom wants me to tell you something….” Things were not looking good.

30 minutes later he emerged to tell me that her heart was completely broken but at least I was off the hook.

For now.

How do you feel about pets that have to be incarcerated? Or just bunnies in general? Am I a big meanie?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

If this keeps up we'll have to get some of those hand warmer thingies


(this picture is NOT from my front yard, apparently there is weather all over the place, who knew?)
This morning brought a change in our weather. It’s just a temperature drop, but around here we take what we can get. A high of 66 degrees is forecasted, not exactly the kind of thing that would be noticed by those guys over at the National Weather Service, but our kids sure noticed.

One left the house in a quilted flannel shirt (I didn’t even know we owned such a thing). Another was worried he might need gloves so his hands wouldn’t freeze as he rode his bike to school, and our daughter opted for shoes and socks instead of flip-flops, which as everyone knows, is a sure sign of winter.

I plan to wear a sweater. All day. Even if I start to sweat.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I should probably mention this post is L-O-N-G

*I just want to say, this post is long. Really long. Like a freaking novel long.
There were a lot of things going around in my head. The bottom line is we cannot forget that the war goes on and on and on. I recommend you read this post instead of mine, he says what I was trying to, but waaayyy better.

It’s hard to come up with things to write about, especially 4 times a week, most days I really have nothing to say, a fact clearly evidenced in my last post. Other times I have something to say, and a lot of it, but I’m either not sure how to say it or not sure if I ought to open my mouth. I try to keep it light here, what good would it do me to offend my half-dozen regular readers? Also, it’s my opinion that politics are best left at home. I’m probably not going to change your mind and you’re probably not going to change mine. I can live with that.

Most of the time.

I doubt I’m going to change anyone’s mind today, but I promised my brother I’d try to write 4 times a week, so this is what you’re getting today.

*Warning* It’s long, and opinionated, and frankly, at times, not exactly a straight route.

Over the weekend I read a book about conscientious observers during the Vietnam War, it was actually very interesting and it got me to thinking about my own son who is 18, draft age, and his ability to make combat type decisions when he barely seems to be able to make decisions about what to wear.

I was in the Army, I was 20 when I enlisted and I believe in defending the rights of not only the citizens of this country, but those who are not able to defend themselves. I believe in liberty and justice and the right to bear arms (to an extent). That said, there is, in my mind, a big difference between those who are unable to defend themselves and those who our government would like to see “democratized” so one hand can wash another. Then there is the whole, how does one (or a group of individuals) decide when it’s worth sacrificing lives in the defense of freedom, and how many lives before it’s not worth it anymore? (Don’t even get me started on the financial cost.)

Sunday morning I saw that there had been more bombings in Iraq, near the Green Zone where my father spent the better part of the last 5 years working for our government in an effort rebuild their military and infastructure. Many were dead and missing the story said. Later I read an article about D-day and the 3000 French civilians who were killed during the days leading up to the invasion as Allied forces bombed the area to prepare it. 3000 civilians.

By the end of the weekend I was feeling super uplifted and cheery.

Yesterday morning there was news of helicopters crashing in Afghanistan and the rising death toll from Iraq. Some days I read the news and I want to go back to bed. Maybe it’s because I was in the military, or because I grew up an Army Brat, or that I have sons who are, or soon will be, old enough to enlist. Maybe I'm just an overly sensitive emotional woman on the verge of menopause. Who knows, but I do think about it a lot. The military is not a bad life, but it is a different life, and I felt somewhat isolated from the rest of the world while I was part of it. When I think of soldiers past and present I am in awe of the sacrifices they make, usually on behalf of someone else. There are a few at the top making decisions, but the majority are just following orders. Sometimes they agree with those orders and other times they don’t but they still (usually) follow. Not all soldiers are brave, not all soldiers are upstanding citizens, but I happen to think most are.

After I read the draft book this weekend my husband and I had a conversation about war and being on the right side. The thing about war, the thing that keeps war going, is that BOTH sides think they're on the right side. Mothers in other lands love their sons just as much as I love mine and hope that the causes they fight for are just. Sometimes there’s no way of knowing until the dust clears.

My son is taking some crazy advanced government class at school and his teacher is having them do all of these assignments, you know, to get them to use their brains and have opinions of their own and to know WHY they feel the way they do about things. Quite a lofty undertaking for a high school teacher if you ask me, but it’s her headache, eh? Last night for homework he had to answer a questionnaire that would supposedly give him an idea of his political leanings.

I pause here to tell you that while I believe in leaving politics at home, if I happen to be at home, with people I trust (notice I did not say who “agree with me”) I will be more than happy to engage in a lively debate. I have actually seen my brothers argue quite convincingly for the other side, you know, for fun. I am also a huge advocate of my kids forming their own opinions and not taking mine or my husband’s or their friend’s as their own.

While he was answering his questions my son would stop every now and then to shoot one my way and ask my opinion. I’m proud (?) to say that some of that “use your own mind” crap must have sunk in, because there were several times he tried to convince me that my opinion was wrong. We might not agree on everything, but he got that debate gene from me, and that’s something right?

Today the headline that caught my eye was this; a man who has spent his adult years in either the military or other government service has resigned from his job because he believes that we, the United States of America, are doing more harm than good in Afghanistan. Read the article. It’s not a decision he came to lightly. He’s not a pacifist, he’s probably a Republican, and he thinks it’s time for us to admit we can’t fix things there.

Where the heck is she going with this, is that what you’re thinking? Or is anyone even still here?

I know that we all have a million day to day things that have immediate impact on our lives, like lead in face paint, the economy, and new i-phone apps. that consume our attention, but I feel that it is so very important that we remember that RIGHT NOW there are men and women in foreign lands fighting and dying for something that may or may not be right. And because those men and women made a choice to do that, my son won’t be forced to, and neither will yours. I don’t think we all need to make cookies or become pen pals with a soldier (though those are really nice things to do), but I think the least we can do is learn about and understand why they are being asked to be there, and if by some chance we have an opinion about it, maybe we can drop a line to someone in charge and ask them to please not forget that the conflicts we are involved in are not just ideas and charts, each and everyday men and women and children are dying on both sides, and if they wouldn’t mind could they make a plan to either get in and get it done or get the heck out, sooner rather than later. We don’t have to agree on the path, but I think we should all be able to agree that we need to stop wasting time and get on one.

Anywho, that’s what I’ll be doing this evening, instead of watching Fat Tracy whine her crazy self through another week of Biggest Loser, I’m going to write a couple letters. In all honesty, it will probably be less stressful.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Lisssping is NOT funny

It's not. I'm not even kidding one little bit. A few days ago we made a video for our family blog and my daughter asked why her voice sounded so weird on the recording, so I explained to her how most people don't recognize their voices when they hear them, but she sounds just the same to me. Then I recorded myself so she could hear my voice live and recorded, you know, to prove the point that both would sound the same to her. ---You are never going to believe this, but when my voice is recorded it doesn't sound the same at all, when my voice is recorded.......I have a LISP!!!! How on earth can that be?

At first I was in denial. How is it possible? I have 3 brothers, if I had a lisp wouldn't they have teased me during my youth? Of course they would have, have you met my brothers? Then there's the fact that I am like 80, or 41, or 26, years old. Wouldn't I know by now if I were a lisper? In all of these decades wouldn't someone have suggested speech therapy to me? HUH!? I'm telling you what, if they cared at all they sure would have!! Thanks Mom!!!Can you develop Late Onset Lisping? Is it contagious? What if I caught it from one of those kids I tutor at the elementary school?

Holy cow!! What if it'ssss true? What if I am a walking SSSNL ssskit? What if my friendsss make fun of me when I'm not around? What if that'sss why I can't make NEW friendsss?

When my kids came home from school I said "why didn't you guys ever tell me I have a lisp?" Of course they acted like they didn't know what I was talking about. But I know that's becasue they're teenagers and they just wanted to get away from me and make jokes about my speech impediment and also my perception impediment. Because, really, who doesn't know they lisp? No one that's who.

I'm left with no choice but to do what any self-conscious insecure woman would do. I've made a video of myself so you can decide. I realize that some of you have never heard my voice "live", if you'd like to call me I can speak to you on the phone, though now that I think about it, I fear the telephone also distorts my voice, because people are constantly asking me to repeat myself. I just figured they had poor connections.

video

ps. if you know what's good for you, and my self image, under NO circumstances will you make fun of my excessive blinking or that tendon in my neck that pops up sometimes.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Regret

I'm hooked on Willy Wonka and it's not pretty.
For starters here's today's lunch~

I know you are NEVER going to believe this, but they weren't even very good.  It's shocking that something with the name "Sploshberries" wasn't all that tasty, but they just didn't have any "zing". What's a sploshberry anyway? I suppose a better question is, what possesses me to buy this junk?  I don't even give it to my kids, I HIDE my leftovers.  I am a sad, sad woman. 8
Anybody else eat candy for lunch?



This is my "Keep Calm" themed calendar. The quote this month is exactly how I feel several times a week.
~
Apparently I have a problem.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Praise Be!

Our X-box has been repaired. That’s right, now you can all ditch your chores and come over to our house and play Halo II this weekend. (Prizes if you dress up.) I got an e-mail this morning from my friends at Microsoft letting me know that Satan’s Time Waste Machine is up and running and on its way back where it belongs.

Can you hear the angels singing?

Me neither.

The X-box came down with a virus about 6 months ago. First we thought it was the Ring of Death and everyone was all like “whoa, dude the Ring of Death, that sucks” and then they were like “At least it they’ll fix it for free” and then my kids were all like “moaahhhm, when are you gonna send the X-box in??!! don’t you love ussssss?”

I'm not ashamed to admit I DO love my kids, but I’m NOT in love with the X-box, I know a lot of mothers really like it when their kids spend hours playing and arguing over video games, but I'm not one of those popular moms and I wasn’t in any hurry to have the Ring of Death exorcised from its bowels. FINALLY, after a lot of foot draging and hemming and hawing, I couldn't put it off any longer so I got online and answered all of the questions and found out that our X-box was not as sick as we had originally feared/hoped. We were not dealing with the Ring of Death; instead we were facing the dreaded E-73 error. Which in addition to not having a cool name like “Quarter Circle of Death”, is like the swine flu’s weaker younger brother, and also not covered under the FREE repair section of our X-box HMO plan. No siree, turns out E-73 removal is like collagen injections, you know, an elective procedure, and has a $99.00 deductable, which I unfortunately had to inform my children I was not going to pay.

Universal Healthcare, yes. Universal Video Game System Repair, not so much.

When my sweet video game loving boys finally scraped their 9,900 pennies together I was left with no excuse for not sending the dang thing in, so I did. And now, after months of deprivation, it is on its way back where it belongs, our children can resume the mushing of their brains. Soon our halls will be filled with the harmonious sounds of Guitar Hero again.

Our home will be happy once more.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I'm just going to get some draino and one of those snake things

My husband had some lab work done a couple of weeks ago, and well.....the results were less than positive, if pressed, you might even call them negative.  We decided no more of this talking about eating healthier, it's time to take action.  I went to the library and checked out a few cookbooks and asked him to look through them and mark some recipes that he would be willing to eat.

And that's just what happened.  When I sat down to make a grocery list from the things he had picked out I found this marking his spot~

Looks good for your heart, right? Change is sooo much fun.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Maybe you've noticed

I’m more like an onion than a parfait.

I always tell my kids “You only get one chance to make a first impression”. It's true, I think people take note the first time they meet you, they kind of decide if they want to put any effort into getting to know you, or if you’re a nut they might decide if they want to keep their distance. That’s why I try to make a positive impression; I try not to be too nutty. It gives me a little cushion. I think I’m one of those girls who needs some cushion.

We moved into our new house a couple of months ago and now we’re in a new ward, I put on my outgoing, smiley, super friendly willing to pitch right in face so I could make a good first impression. Man is that exhausting.

Then I started to feel bad, because like an ogre, I have layers.

To the untrained eye I really am that first impression person, nice and helpful, quiet and kind. Then as you get to know me and peel back the layers you find I am still a nice person (mostly) and I really am always willing to help out, but I can also be sarcastic, and opinionated, sometimes silly and other times serious and not always the height of spirituality, actually at times quite the opposite, and mostly NOT quiet. Oh, and there's that dumb saying the wrong thing at the wrong time thing, it's charming. An enigma wrapped in a riddle, that's me. I don't even know who I am, how on earth am I supposed to wrap that up and present it to the world?! Huh?

Yeah, where was I going with this? Right.

I hate being the new girl. Everyone in my new ward has been very nice, very welcoming and genuine.  The problem is not them. It's ME.

You would think an old lady like me wouldn’t get so sweaty over not having a buddy to sit next to in Relief Society, but you’d be wrong, so very wrong. I feel like I’m in Jr. High. What if no one talks to me? What if someone does talk to me and I say something stupid? (Unfortunately the odds of that happening are higher than I like to admit.) What if they think I’m weird? What if I think they’re weird?

Also, there was this time right after I moved in that I may have totally blown it. I was at a “mid-week activity”, or whatever they’re called now, at my new ward, the kind of thing I usually skip but I was trying to make a good first impression and this woman came up to me and said, “Are you Sue?” I said yes, and then she told me her name and said she recognized me because she READS MY BLOG. She wasn’t yelling, it’s just seemed like it, because for some reason, the idea of someone that I don’t know RECOGNIZING me was, I don’t know, unreal. So instead of being flattered, or even friendly, I just sort of FROZE. Then I said a few super witty things like, “Uh” and “Oh” and “Doh!” Because, yes, I am a social retard.

Of course, after she backed away slowly (I’m sure she was silently praying she had mistaken me for someone else) I thought of at least a dozen (okay, 3) other ways I could have reacted if only I weren’t my own worst enemy. That was over a month ago, and I’ve barely been able to bring my self to make eye contact with this poor woman, or anyone else, in all that time because I’m so embarrassed that a person like me, with so much to say on her blog would have so little to say in person. I did finally say hi on Sunday and she didn't run screaming from the room, but that only proves that she has better people skills than I do, which we already knew because of the whole introducing herself in the first place thing.

I’m thinking of becoming a famous recluse. I just don't have the energy, or the skills aparently, to make good first impressions anymore and since I've already admitted that it's all down hill after the first time you meet me, why bother? Right? I know I can manage the recluse part, I’m going to watch Grey Gardens this week and see if I can pick up a few pointers. If you have any ideas as to how I can become famous I’d love to hear them. Unless they involve talking to real people, like in person, using my mouth to form words. Then I’m out.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Ahoy!



I'm late getting this up, but in "honor" of Columbus Day I wanted to mention this book. It's about the first people to land on our continent and it ain't exactly the same story you heard in 3rd grade. I read it last year and found it very interesting and also a little horrifying. It makes one want to think twice before gloating about their ancestry. I think it's super important for us to know the real what's what of things lest we go around spouting that which we do not really know.
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He also wrote this book which I liked even more -

It's about the Civil War, past and present and how in some parts of our country the the Rebel spirit lives on and the Confederacy is alive and well. (Or about as "well" as it ever was).

What I like most about Horowitz is the way he seems to try to capture all sides of the story, he goes to great lengths (not to mention distances) to deliver the whole, um, you know, kit & caboodle, it's kind of a sometimes funny, sometimes serious, fact filled, travelogue. What more could you ask for?

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Yesterday was a success

Inspired by this.

I braved that~

And baked these~


Victory is mine!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Oh.. when I said tomorrow... did you think I meant TODAY?

You know, when I said I was going to tell you a funny story about my mom tomorrow/today? Sorry.  I had a crappy morning and wasn't really up to finishing and editing a funny story.  Let's shoot for tomorrow, shall we?  But don't get your hopes up, in all likelihood it just one of those dumb things that's only funny to me.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

At least that's what I think should happen

*We interrupt our irregularly scheduled blogging for this important tirade. Our apologies to those of you who do not watch/or have not watched your DVRed episode of The Biggest Loser*

What on earth is going on over there in Biggest Loserville?

Someone is clearly asleep in the rule shack. Or maybe there isn’t a rule shack, maybe this isn’t even a RULE issue, maybe this is a common sense issue. I don't care what KIND of issue it is, but I do think we need get to the bottom of it. (and by WE I mean YOU over there at NBC who's job it is to get to the bottom of stuff like this)

Listen, I’m all about fair shakes and all that crap, but seriously, come on! That Tracy is a loser, and I don’t mean loser in the way you would expect me to mean loser when referring to a show about, um, big losers. I’m mean loser like “Hello, what’s up with this loser?!”
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I’m just going to cut to the chase and ask--, Why is she still there? She can’t exercise, she can’t participate in the physical challenges, and if you ask me (which I totally realize you didn’t) she seems a little shifty. Yeah, I know, shiftiness is no reason to be tossed from a reality show; I just thought I’d throw that in there.

The way I see it, coming to “the ranch” healthy (you know, as healthy as a 350 lb person can be), working out for a week or six and then getting stress fractures that make it impossible to exercise is one thing. I can even see giving that person a chance to recover and continue on. (Though as we have seen this week with the whole Tom Delay tragedy, overcoming stress fractures is easier said than done, even when you have a heart of gold, great teeth and a really good partner) Sadly this is not the case with our Tracy. This woman has yet to set foot in the gym yet 4 people who could and were more than willing to participate and needed the help just as much as Tracy have been sent on their way. Frankly, I’m starting to feel a little irritated about it. I know controversy and contention sell, but I think I speak for everyone, or at least myself, when I say “Give me a break!!”

I know she wants to be there, I get that she doesn’t think she can lose weight at home, but for crying out loud, this woman can barely walk up the stairs to get on the scale. SEND HER HOME!!

That’s it. Tomorrow I’m going to tell you a story about my mom. It’s funny. Don’t be late.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

And one more thing.....

This morning I was on hold for a little while and I got to hear a recorded loop of important health related information that our doctor has started using in place of the easy listening radio station I used to enjoy so much (really, hardly anyone plays the BeeGees anymore), in addtion to being told how often I should have my cholesterol levels checked, I learned that his office is very pleased to welcome Dr. Newlady to the "team". I was so thrilled to hear of her “special interest in cosmetics” but most of all that she is “skilled in the administration of Botox.” Because you know, maybe while I’m over there later waiting for my kids to get swabbed for swine flu, I’ll just have her “administer” some toxin into my forehead. My worry lines are getting out of control.

Is Botox mainstream now? Do regular people get it? Or have it done, or whatever the proper usage is. (I know people can be sensitive about things like that, for example, my husband has told me over and over how he hated it when his mom would ask him if he was “using marijuana” instead of “smoking pot”, he couldn’t even continue the conversation when she did that. I just want to make sure I’m not upsetting anyone.) When I think of Botox, I think of those rich ladies, you know, like on CSI Miami, or Dallas. But if my family dr. is advertising it on his hold recording, if you can get it "administered" by the same person who gives you a flu shot, apparently I have missed the Botox boat. Not that I would have gotten on the Botox boat if I had known it was at the dock, but I do like to know what’s shakin around the PTA, if you know what I mean.

Speaking of the PTA, can I ask you a question? What do you call your children’s teachers? And if you are a teacher, what do you want to be called? I never know what's up these days. By habit (and maybe some respect mixed with a little fear) I always call them Mr. or Mrs. But what about when they write a note and sign their first name? Isn’t that an invitation to be familiar? Or what if they are 20 years younger than you are? What if once, at an awards assembly, they squatted and you (and the whole 2nd grade) saw their thong?

Here’s something else I’ve been thinking about, does anyone really eat vanilla flavored Tootsie Rolls? And why are they even in the bag of “Fruit Flavored Tootsie Rolls”? Vanilla isn’t a fruit. Is it?

Also, what’s the point of even having an unfasten your seatbelt signal on an airplane if they are going to tell you to please keep your seatbelt fastened at all times, even if the captain turns on the remove your seatbelt signal? Is it some kind of power struggle between the Pilot and the Flight Attendants?

Starsky or Hutch? I mean, you know, if you had to pick just one.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

If I could just get my hands on one of those dream decoders.....

Do you remember the episode of Seinfeld when Jerry scratches out a note during the night of some funny thought that he plans to use in his act, except in the morning he can’t read his note, and neither can anyone else? When he does finally figure it out, it turns out to be not funny at all? That’s almost exactly what happens to me about 4 times a week, most of the time I don’t wake up and write anything down, so I end up waking up with the feeling that something great slipped away while I was sleeping.
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Well, not today folks. Last night I thought/dreamt an idea and I remembered it all night long. I even half woke a few times feeling pretty smug about the great post I was going to write this morning.
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Then morning came, and I remembered, oh yeah, I sure did.  It was this, hold on to your hats. I had this great idea to write about how funny it would be to talk about what it must be like to be a test chef for Hidden Valley Ranch. Are you dying of hysteria?

Me neither. These are the things that go through my head at night.  No wonder I'm so tired in the morning. So, um, well...I don't really have anything to say about test chefs at Hidden Valley Ranch.  You?

Instead let me tell you about this other thing.

Sometimes I fall down. Other times I trip over my brother’s dog. Then I end up with one of these~


But I’m not mad. I mean I know that dog didn’t mean to trip me, besides, like I said, I fall down, probably a little more often than your average grown up, so really, I’m not mad.  But unfortunately when I tripped over the dog I had my cell phone in my hand and now the keypad is stuck on CAPS. So now when I send a text people think I’m yelling at them, not to mention all of my twitter tweets look like I’m having an emergency (or a mental breakdown—which in my line of life is the more likely option). It’s a little awkward.

ANY SUGGESTIONS?

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Viva las Chinchillas!

I don’t care what anyone says, America’s Next Top Model is one of the best things on TV. Hands down, I'm not even kidding. Where else could you hear a 19 year old girl say something like “I know Miss J. don’t like my walk,” ( for those not in the know—Miss J. is Miss Tyra’s dress wearing man friend/runway coach/flamboyant freakshow judge) “but it’s my signature walk and I’ve had it forever and I’m not changing it.” She’s 19 and she’s had that walk FOREVER!! I’m 41 and I've never had a signature walk. I'm really thinking I should get one.

Do you think it’s too late for me?

This is for my sister-in-law, would wouldn't have to rely on me to keep up with current events if she'd watch Top Model every once in a while~




Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I think it's time for a little chat

Yesterday morning I happened to be feeling a little blah, wouldn't you know that's just when I came across this article. Blue is the New Black. It didn't help my mood. I don’t know about all women. I haven’t asked any, I can only speak for myself, but I do wonder why I can’t rustle up some cheery cheer a little more often. I’m sure I wasn’t always like this. In fact I know I used to be a glass half full girl. Nowadays I don’t even think about the glass, I’m just so busy trudging along. Sometimes I get tired of hanging on. Tired of worrying about what everyone else thinks of me. Tired of trying to be better for people who end up disappointing me. Tired of being responsible. Tired of taking showers and eating and feeding my children. I get tired of returning library books on time, tired of checking them out in the first place. Sometimes I want to leave the mail in the box for a week or heck, a month even. I’m tired of answering my phone. Tired of making excuses for others’ bad behavior. Just, you know, tired. Then other days, not so much. Other days I look forward to the mail (Netflix, duh!), and feeding my children. Sometimes I really like other people and want them to call me. There are days when being responsible feels good and days when I NEED to take a shower(um, yeah, MOST days I need to take a shower).

Maybe we women are unhappy because we put too much pressure ON OURSELVES. I don't remember the last time anyone scolded me for taking my books back to the library late or told me I was raising a bunch of malnourished banshees (I don't count unsigned notes that are slipped under my front door). The only person making fun of how I look in my yoga pants is me. The last time I was compared to the mom across the street I was the one making the judgments. Maybe we're unhappy because somewhere along the line reality set in and we realized that most of our wildest dreams aren't going to come true. That's just the way it is. It's possible that my subconcious took a hit when my 12 year old self came to the realization that not only was she NOT going to look like Olivia Newton-John and marry Leif Garrett, but he wasn't even the kind of guy she wanted to marry.
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If only I could stop time, even for a day, if everything could remain still (you know, the kids, the laundry, my dreams of grandeur)while I did a little sorting in my mind. Naturally one day would not be even close to enough time to sort all that goes on in my mind, but maybe it would be enough to get the ball rolling. Maybe I could have a little face to face with that voice that's always telling me I'm not good enough. Because seriously, of all the things I'm tired of, she's at the top of the list. I'm sick of the voice in my head that tells me I should go with her to check out Rick Springfield next time he's at the casino and would it kill me to put on a little makeup once in a while?(--oh wait, that voice is my mother, she's got this huge crush...nevermind).
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I don’t know, maybe talking to yourself doesn't do any good. Maybe my inner self is a snot and won't pay any attention to my outer self anyway. That would be just my luck.
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I’ll tell ya though, the thought of feeling like this-or worse-for the next 30 years……. I'm pretty sure this town ain't big enough for the two of us. I bet I can take her.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

I seem to have sprung a leak.

It appears that someone on my security team has slipped my e-mail address to an underground organization of extremely devout and conservative wackos who have an inside connection to government and law enforcement memos and also happen to love bunnies in costumes. When I find out who it was heads are gonna roll. And I’m not kidding this time. This group who has their hands all over my secret contact information is now coming at my inbox from a variety of different crazy pants places and I have received in the last month more nutso political, religious, and kitty/rainbow e-mails than in the entire last two years combined. It's insane. Like the senders.

The subject lines read like the front page of the New York Times-

Social Security 2009 not a joke...serious stuff

LOOOOOOOVE THIS!!!

Warning from the Police(Not a joke)

Jesus left our home this morning

And the ever popular-

I better get this back!!!

I’m getting crap –I mean correspondence -from both of my parents, and judging from their similar tastes in e-mail; if the internet had been around when they were together their marriage may have lasted. Then there is the very unbiased political information I’ve been getting from my brother’s father-in-law (I KNOW!!?). He’s sent me Ted Nugent videos, warnings about our evil president, and urgings to stop the Postmaster General from issuing liberal postage stamps (surely you can see the very real and present danger in that). Rounding it out is a person from my church who has gotten her mitts on my e-mail address because we worked together in a church capacity and is now letting me know how I can help with her local tea party/Glenn Beck loving community organization and also passing along emergency preparedness advice. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good Ted Nugent video and I can always use canning tips, but holy cow, sparkly good luck rainbows is where I draw the line.

It’s okay though, I think I’ve figured out a plan to stop all of them. I am in the process of composing an e-mail of my own, it will have flashing graphics, as well as the trademark FW:FW:fw this is serious open first in the subject line. My letter will tell them about a virus that will cut off all of their e-mailing abilities if they continue to send forwards, but, here’s the genius part, if they stop immediately Microsoft will keep track of how many e-mails they receive but DON'T pass along and when the number reaches 1000 Bill Gates will personally cut them a check for $10,000.00.
I think it just might work.

 
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