Hamburgers and Hot Dogs

Isn't That What Life Is All About?

Well no, certainly not, but it was today. We had a little BBQ. Just an impromptu thing, we called up the family peeps yesterday and invited them over. After spending 12 hours cleaning the house (hubby even tackled the garage), shopping, and food prepping yesterday, we were finally ready to fire up the ole grill this afternoon.

I personally formed 23 hamburger patties from the big lumps o' meat I bought at the store yesterday. We also had umpteen number of hot dogs. I made the usual BBQ fare, potato salad, pasta salad, and cole slaw. We had chips, pickles, and olives too. Hubby manned the grill, and he did so without complaining one little bit although he probably would have rather gone downstairs and played his computer game. Pretty standard stuff.

Everyone piled in around 2:00pm as directed, and we proceeded to get our grub on. I thought it was fun although I was busy with kitchen stuff, getting kids drinks, and watching to make sure none of the youngin's pulled my dog's tail.

About 10:30pm everyone had gone home. I looked around and was completely amazed that despite having at least 6 children under the age of 10 in the house it was still in reasonably good condition. I call that success. My pets even seemed to survive the day unscathed, although my cat did venture out of his hiding place and cause one of the children to have a very nasty allergic reaction with the puffy eyes and sniffling and everything. If that wasn't enough, once my cat realized the power he had, he seemed to be following the child around trying to make him worse

Despite the mishap with the toilet overflowing from the 1 year old stuffing an entire double roll down it, the urine in the soda bottle in the garage, don't ask about that one, and having two divorced people in the same room for probably the longest period of time that they have seen each other, in who knows how many years, overall everything ran pretty smoothly. I will call it a good day.

Now, I'm pretty darn tired. I'm going to take some heartburn medicine which I am sure I will need, and head to bed, but not without first hollering at those two giggling girls to get to bed. I don't know what they are up to, but the laughter is a sure sign of something I most likely wouldn't approve of, and it most likely involves putting clothing on one of our poor pets or flatulence.

Good Night.

Chipping Away At The Time

Spring Break.

Tomorrow is Thursday. Hopefully you stopped in today to get this titillating news, otherwise it may be too late for you to be informed on this new development. Well where was I? Man, our President is on t.v. right now, and he is hilarious, they are showing it on Hannity and Colmes. He is telling some great jokes with perfect timing. Serious, it is good stuff. Hope you didn't miss it. I hear it in the background. He's even joking about Cheney shooting people.

Anyway, I wasn't actually going to post about that. I just caught it when I started this post. It is actually way more entertaining than what I was going to write about in any event. What I was going to say is it is Spring break for us here. I took the week off to spend time with the family. The time is flying way faster than I would like it too. I had such grand ambitions for this week.
I have yet to meet any of them, but what the heck. It has been very laid back around here and maybe that is just what I needed afterall.

Anyhoot, I'm going to take off for now. Be back later.

Not Important

Really.

I am just going to get right to the gist of things. I love writing on this blog. I truly enjoy it. That being said, I do realize that it has been rather stale lately. I'm a 36 year old part time college student, part time employee, and wife and mother, I've got a lot on my mind. In fact, I have so much on my mind I have had a difficult time forming thoughts for posts.

The strange thing is, with all of this going on, in some ways I feel I am really testing the bounds of my own mental capacity. That brain of mine has gone sort of soft and mushy over the years, and now that I am really pushing it I find at times it fails me. I honestly have had moments of frustration when I cannot get my brain to retain information that I will it to retain. It is difficult to explain, but I find it interesting to think about.

Have you ever just thought about your brain and what it does? It is sort of like an athlete pushing their body to perform at a higher level. Man can only run so fast, man can continue to work and train, and perform, but eventually all athletes will reach a limit to what their bodies can do. I guess it must be true with the brain as well. Right now I am working and training my brain to think about a great many things, something I have not done much of in the last oh say 15 years.

Like an athlete training his muscles to perform, I am training my brain to produce for me. I may never get it to be where I would like it to be, just as many athletes meet disappointing limitations in their own training. It is sort of strange to think with my brain about my brain as if it is a whole different entity. My brain knows itself, but it is not my self. Whoa dude, this is getting out of hand.

What I am trying to say is, my brain is on overload. Something has to give, it has been this blog, my little outlet. This is why I keep blogging, even crap posts bring me a certain amount of satisfaction. Thanks for hanging in there with me. I don't know how long this dry spell will last. I will keep trying.

Cuddly

Kick off your feet and throw up your shoes

Something or other.

I wouldn't mind if someone just wanted to rub my feet just for the sheer delight of it. Unfortunately the door bell isn't ringing with volunteers for that effort just yet. Maybe I can con a foot rub out of the kiddo, however I know that will cost me. She will give my sister a pedicure for only a couple of dollars, but she charges me $5/per foot. I don't know why she does this. It is not like my feet are gross or something. I'm not even missing any toenails or anything. They are pretty neatly painted and groomed right now since I had a pedicure not too long ago, but the child holds out.

Strange things have been afoot lately. What is it with me and the feet thing today? The other day I woke up to go to work, and was somewhat perplexed that our garage door was partially open. It certainly wasn't open when I got home from work the previous evening. This startled me. My daughter had a friend spend the night and the girls had come into my room about midnight saying that there was a man outside. I looked out the window in my groggy state and saw a car in front of our driveway, I heard a car door shut and the car turned around and drove away.

At the time I just thought it was some kids goofing off or something, but when I woke up and found our garage door opened I thought maybe something else had happened. I am strongly suspicious that an intruder had been in there. I inspected the garage and it was in its usual disorderly chaos and nothing seemed to be missing. I noticed the back door from the garage was unlocked, and I specifically remembered checking the locks the night before.

I'm not sure what happened. Last night my daughter had an extremely difficult time sleeping. Every little noise scared her. We were both freaked out. I didn't sleep well myself. Anyway, I'm sure hubby will make sure all the outside lights are in working order when he can here. It is a real freaky feeling thinking that if someone was in my garage, had I forgot to check the lock on the door into the house, they would have had easy and unfettered access to our house. Luckily I am somewhat obsessive about checking all of the deadbolts before I go to bed each night. I'm still a bit puzzled about it.

Yesterday after work I talked to our back door neighbor, and told him what happened. He mentioned that he occasionally sees a car parked on the side of our house. We have a fairly long fenceline on the side of our house with the street since we are on the corner. The car that he described was exactly the same car I saw the night before in front of my driveway. Anyway, he said he and his wife would pay more attention to things happening in the neighborhood.

Hopefully that is the last of any such types of incidents. It doesn't appear that they took anything. This may sound strange but I think I would be more comfortable if they had took something, at least I could say to myself, oh they stole X item, and not entertain thoughts like, maybe they were trying to get into the house instead.

And you know those 2 lazy dogs of ours spent more time barking at the hampster running on its wheel then the mysterious noises occurring around our house that night. That's all right, they were just saving their energy for the action had someone actually came into this house. I have no doubt our 2 pit-bulls would happily take a bite out of crime, no matter how sweet and loving they are as pets.

Well, that's all I've got for now. I'm going to call and harass hubby. Maybe HE will give me a foot rub. Back soon. Hugs.

I'm Totally Not Ignoring You

Really.

I will post soon. Well, actually I am posting now, but after I post this one I will post again soon. I have been having internet problems lately, and haven't had the time to sit down and try to figure out why. It seemed like too much bother, so I spent my time other ways.

I managed to pass both of my mid-term exams, although it was touch and go on that one class. In math I've pretty much aced all of the tests. The other class is all right. I'm disappointed as far as the test because I think I could have done better, but it was a difficult exam, and a lot of people had trouble with it.

Things have been hectic at work. Etc.

I have to get ready for work. Have a good one. I will be back soon. I can't wait just to sit down and read my favorite blogs.

What do you know?

I don't know a darn thing.

I know that I wanted to post much earlier today but the internet was not working. I sent my husband a text message and he called me and told me how to fix it. I finally got it fixed, but it has been one thing after another and here I am. I've missed you.

Well, life has been whirring by as it does, and I am just trying to maintain some sense of balance about it all. I was doing quite well for a while there, I was even somewhat proud of how I was managing all of these things at once, and even having only a very small pile of laundry dirty at any given time. Which given my history on laundry that is pretty darn good.

Then I went to work, and I even came home and cleaned and vacuumed, and swept and mopped keeping up with this thing. My homework was done. I was feeling good. Then, on Sunday I came home from work and the whole entire house was in shambles. The dishes were all dirty, there were all sorts of blankets, dog beds, and miscellaneous things all over the living room floor, when I ventured into my bedroom I found my drawers had been gone through, piles of my clean under wears, and other clothes strewn all about. I looked in my closet and the neatly organized basket of dirty clothes had been dumped on end, and there were even more clothes piled on top of the heap in the closet. There were toys all about the house, and things thrown all over the place.

Upon first entering the house one might think, Oh my this place has been invaded and whoever came was looking for something very specific, probably a very small computer disk which holds the key to some mystery of intrigue and such. The place has obviously been ransacked, but by who? Or is it whom? Who would do such a thing?

I'll tell you who, there is only one person capable of toppling a place with such obvious precision, and that is my very own daughter. She is even better when she has an accomplice which she did. The two of them, she and her cousin, went through this place like two tiny tornadoes, and still had the nerve to ask me the very minute I pulled into the driveway to take them swimming. Uh yeah, no.

So there it is. What possessed them to do such a thing? Well, they were looking for--bathing suits! I can imagine my daughter standing in front of my dresser with all of the drawers open tossing my fresh clean clothing over her shoulder frantically looking for her bathing suit saying, "I just know it has got to be here somewhere!"

She knew I was mad when I just had this extremely disappointed look on my face as I glanced around the house. I didn't say anything. I was too tired. I had a rough day at work, and I just needed to lie down for a few minutes. And so I did. When I got up 40 minutes later I told them, "get your shoes on, we're taking her home, and you are coming home and taking a shower and getting ready for bed." They started to argue, to ask for more time, but I said no.

When we got home my daughter cleaned up the living room without being asked. It was a start, but the rest of the house was left in the wreck in which I found it. I did a bit of a clean up and decided I would just have to do the rest later. I planned to have help with that. It still isn't done. I don't care. I'll get to it when I get to it. It bothers me quite a lot, but I've had studies to do, and some extra time to put in at work, and well, I decided not to make it a priority.

Like a lot of people, I'm just flat out tired. I could handle doing a quick clean up here and there, but this is just too much. I'm not a perfect housekeeper. I could be better at it if I had some help with it, but I just can't do it all like this. The truth is, I'm angry about it. I'm still mad as I write this.

I better get to bed. Good night.

Did I Ever Tell You?

About my brother's inheritance.

The two most memorable events in the 70's for me was my baby brother being born, and my grandmother dying less than 2 months later. My sister and I were shuffled off to stay with my dad's parents in Missouri when my mother went out to California to care for my grandmother. I was 8 years old.

I remember my mother telling my sis and I that grandma had cancer and that she was going to die. Mom felt it was best to be honest with us about this fact. There would be no more cassette tapes with a narrative from grandma, there would be no more visits, the would be no more presents on all of those special occasions that grandma always saw to sending.

We were only at my other grandparent's house for at most what seemed a week before mom and dad came from California. My grandmother called us from outside saying our parent's had arrived. We went into the living room, my grandfather sat in his usual spot on the couch. The spot I so often remember walking up to him and having him wrap his arms tightly around me giving me the "bear hug" I loved to receive.

Mom and dad sat on the love seat. After saying our hello's I turned to my mom and asked, "Where is grandma?" I knew she just had to have got all better from the cancer, and had come with my parents from California. Mom said, "She died, she is not with us." I was crushed. I turned to my grandpa, he was ready with open arms. I realize now that he was there to offer support as my parents had to give us the news.

I don't remember anything else about that time except the actual funeral. My grandmother's body was flown out to the small Missouri town, and all the family from all around came. I had never seen my dad's parents interact with my mom's family. At that age, I didn't even think any of them knew each other at all. I remember that my dad's mother was not going to go to the funeral. She didn't tell me why. As a child I thought it was because she didn't care, or didn't know my grandmother.

I will never forget as we all gathered around the grave site I looked behind me, and there stood my grandfather, my dad's dad. I felt so much better that he came. That he was there on that sad day. This is one of the most vivid memories I have of my grandfather. It was that time that he was there when we needed him so much. He told me if I ever needed anything at all I could call him whenever I wanted for any reason. I wish I could call him sometime, but he's gone, he passed away only a few short years later. He was such a funny and intelligent man.

Well, my grandmother, my mom's mom, she was very specific in her will as to where she wanted her belongings to go. She left my older sister a diamond broach, it was stolen years later from my parent's home. She left me a roll top secretary, which I have sitting in my living room now. I don't know why she left me that piece of furniture, she just did. She left my brother, whom she would never have the chance to know, a valuable silver dollar. An extremely valuable silver dollar.

I suppose she did this because he was her first grandson, and her heart must have been so broken that she would never get to be a part of his life as she was for my sister and I. Whatever her reasoning, that is what she choose to do. Everyone knew this.

When my mother was out in California caring for her, she told my mother where she had hidden the silver dollar. At the time various family members, church people and friends had been coming and going offering care, and support for my dying grandmother.

After everything was over, and my parent's returned from California with a U-haul of everything my grandmother owned, my mom went to the item where my grandmother had told her she had hidden the silver dollar, the coin was gone. Someone had taken it. My mom thought perhaps she had misunderstood my grandmother, she looked through everything with a fine toothed comb, it wasn't there.

It has never been found. Someone stole it. It is gone. Someone has it, the inheritance intended for my baby brother. It was someone close enough to my grandmother that she would have confided in them. My mother was obviously very distraught at time, she wasn't paying attention to people, who were trusted by my grandmother anyway. It was hidden in a place only someone with knowledge would look. My grandmother had sewn it into an item that would have completely concealed it.

My mother looked through the item, it had been cut open and patched over. It was not there. It is gone. It has been nearly 30 years since then, I suppose we will never know what happened to it. Many of the people who were there have since died anyway. It is a shame, but it is what it is.

Now, if we could only get my mother to give up my grandmother's clothes. I'm serious, she has a closet full of my grandma's clothes. She won't give them up, we've tried. She can't even fit them besides they are from the 70's. I can't blame her I guess, sometimes it is hard to let things like that go.

For Fun

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

a la Dustbury

Words Don't Work

But I Will Try.

I've started this post over about 3 times now. It just kept sounding corny and cliche. I am forced to admit that I lack the words to describe the love I feel for my husband. It seems impossible to write about. Every time I start I think, ugh, that sounds dumb, that sounds silly, that sounds too private.

What can I say after all of that? I don't know. I guess just simply, I'm glad I married the man I did. I'm glad we had a beautiful child together. I'm excited about our future together. I am an individual as is he, but together we make one.

If this ship goes down, we go down together. We're the young version of the old couple holding each other in the bed as the Titanic went down. As we have endured the various sucker punches that life sometimes offers up, we have shared the bruises, we have overcome the obstacles together.

Just as he tucks his feet under mine for warmth on cold winter nights, so do I turn to him for his strength when I am feeling worn. When I have gone and screwed everything up, he is there to say, "Don't worry." When he is tired on his long journey home, I am there on the phone talking to him for hours to keep him company. He can't wait to get home, I can't wait to see him arrive.
When I get stressed out and cry, he stands next to me and rubs my back, and says, "What's wrong?" He listens when I tell him. He offers solutions. He defends me, even if he thinks I'm overreacting, or that I'm just flat out wrong. He'll say, "You're my wife, I can't believe you are letting people treat you like that." He is saying, no one will mistreat what is mine. I like being his.

He doesn't make any big decision without asking, "How is this going to affect my family?" I have always admired this about him. There is no greater force to be reckoned with than a man serving his family. He defers to my opinion, he respects my insight on things.

The man loves my cooking, or he is smart enough not to say otherwise. Sometimes he makes fun of the stuff I make, but he always eats it, and then he goes back for seconds and says, "That was really good, you put that together very well, I could eat that again."

It wasn't always so easy. Neither one of us has changed much since we got married. We've matured more, we've learned to really put our trust in each other and not just give lip service to the idea, but we are basically the same people with the same likes and dislikes we've always had. The big difference now is we have found a way to put all of those mix matched puzzle pieces together and come out with one coherent image.

It saddens me when people divorce for reasons like, "We just can't get along." I always try to encourage them to work it out if they ask for my opinion, and sometimes even if they don't. If it is a case of abuse, or adultery then I don't try so hard, but if it is just disagreements, those can be overcome. Anyone who has known us over the 13 years of our marriage knows we have had plenty of disagreements.

People who have had the misfortune of being present when we have a fight are always amazed at how vicious we can be with each other. We get downright mean. Sometimes a houseplant or two might get hurled across the room. Haha I'm laughing really hard as I write this, but it is true. We don't strike out at each other, just the houseplants.

Once my niece was staying over and she woke up to us fighting. She said, "Are you guys going to get divorced? I can't imagine you guys not together." I said, "Oh hell no, we're just having a fight, we do that, but we love each other."

He used to stay mad for a long time. It drove me nuts. Finally I had to tell him I can't stand it when he stays mad so long. He must get over it. I can't stay mad at him, even if I tried, and believe me I have. He doesn't do that anymore. After it is all over, and some time has passed, I usually walk up to him and kiss him and say, "I love you dickhead." He used to tell me to leave him alone, but now he usually laughs and then we talk.

After we got over the psychological idea of the perfect relationship that permeates society, we realized that yes indeed people do fight, it does get ugly, and there is no pretty way to do it. Sometimes you just have to cuss someone out. Get over it. Stop psycho analyzing your mate, and be surprised at how much things improve.

That's all I've got.

I'm Home From Work

That's About It.

I found out from my daughter that my sister is a double handed flipper-offer when she drives. According to my daughter, my quiet and shy sister will even roll down her window and stick her arm all the way out to give people the single finger salute. This shocked me, so I asked my sister tonight if this was true, she did not deny it. In fact she said, "yes, I need to watch my mouth around her." Apparently there is a narrative to accompany the hand gestures.

Here I am innocently driving along and having old men starting flip off wars against me for no reason at all and I find out my sister is an actual aggressor in these types of things. I'm shocked. Truly I am.

I don't have to worry about her reading this, she only goes online to go to a shopping website, and she doesn't look at any other websites.

That's it. That is all I have to talk about right now. I can't keep going on with the, oh my gosh I'm tired, I'm so busy, life is hectic, laundry is piling up thing. It is so boring. Anyway, in a great show of strength my daughter and I whipped this whole entire house into shape last night. The laundry is pretty much done. Everybody has laundry, this is not a topic of discussion, is it?

I will close for now. Have a good one. Hugs.

I Woke Up To Two Hundred and Forty Problems Today

That's What I Get.

Procrastinating never pays. This is the lesson that college courses are really meant to teach. Sure, people think they are being given a well rounded education in math, science, history and English, but what they are really being taught is how not to let molehills turn into mountains. If one can master that, then by golly he is master of all.

I wasn't actually so much guilty of procrastinating as I was giving too much time to my other class, and that is what landed me in the position of waking up to 240 math problems to do this morning before I went to class today. It keeps working out this way because my other class takes so much time for reading and note taking that by the time I get done it is bed time and I have to put the math off until the morning right before class.

Oh well, at least I enjoy the math. I can't believe I'm saying that. I never really liked it, but I've found it much more fun then I remember it being. My father would be proud, he would love nothing more than to have one of his children follow in his footsteps and be a total math nerd. For years I remember my father spending countless hours in his office working various math problems. For fun. He did it for fun. I could never understand that, but now I do. There is something very satisfying about completing several steps to find that one has arrived at a correct answer.

All right, I admit I'm at a very beginning level in math, but I keep thinking each time I go to class, if I master this, I am ready for the next thing, and I will just keep getting it all until suddenly I will look up and I'm doing calculus or something.

I keep saying to myself, so this is what it is like to be a non-traditional student. I can't get enough of this stuff. Yes, I'm a lot more stressed out and busy with it, but everyday I think I am taking one more step towards something new. It is exciting stuff.

That Time of Year Again

Cookie Blackmail.

For days I've managed to not buy a box of girl scout cookies. It is that time of year where friendships are put to the test, and the only determining factor of how good a friend is can be seen in the number of boxes of girl scout cookies they buy from your kid, well you actually, because 9 times out of 10 it is the parents who are pushing these things. There is not a store in town which is not staked out by these zealots, these fanatical cookies sellers.

What exactly they get from selling all of these boxes of cookies is what remains a mystery to me. I would stop and ask, but then I would get the pouty hurt look if I didn't buy 12 boxes to take home with me. I'm really not into breaking kid's hearts. They really want us to buy these things.

Well guess what? I don't want to buy any. And according to some people that makes me a scrooge of the most evil nature. "We neeeeed to support themmmm!" they cry to me. Why? Why do I have to buy over priced cookies to show support of complete stranger's children? Why do I even need to support other people's children? Answer that question there Mister Smarty Pants. How about I just don't want any darn cookies? Sheesh if I were to say that all hell would break lose, soccer moms and dads in mini vans would circle my block with signs while screaming profanities at me for my selfishness.

If people want to buy them great, if I don't want to buy them leave me alone about it. I got tricked into the selling girl scout cookies when I was a kid. I honestly do not remember what the purpose of it was. I think we got a badge or something, maybe we made some money to take our troop on a field trip or something. I don't even remember, I do recall my parents doing most of the work by taking the things to their workplaces and bugging their co-workers into buying them. Most places won't even allow people to bring in stuff their kids are selling anymore. This is why they stake out store entrances now.

I refuse to feel guilty about not buying the cookies. I just don't want any.

Thoughts Swirl

For Real.

My mind is in a whirl. I've just spent the evening with some very hefty reading. I don't even know who or what I am anymore, or if I am even real. For all I know I could be in a padded room somewhere living all of this out in my mind. You might not even be real, who can say? Maybe we are all just figments of someone unknown person's imagination. No, I can't believe that. It just doesn't make sense.

I can't figure out why my cat likes eating cellophane but he does. Well, I shouldn't say eating, it's more like chewing on it before we grab it away from him which royally ticks him off. He is the only one of the three that does that. If there is a plastic wrapper to be had he will find it, and try to eat it.

No matter how often I fill the dog bowls, they still eat cat cookies. I wish they wouldn't do it. It is not nice to live with.

I've finally got to the bottom of the mysterious laundry pile. Unfortunately, I have nothing interesting to report as to my findings. All I can say is that for some reason getting to the bottom means I find a lot of socks which irritates me because if there is nothing I hate doing more it is folding an entire basket of socks. I don't actually fold them, it is more about pairing them until I get sick of it and eventually open the drawer and dump the rest of them in it. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit this, but we don't all have our own socks, we just have one sock drawer that is completely filled with socks and the whole family just picks and chooses which white sock they want to wear that day. I like to keep things simple.

It once came to my attention that there was a point in time when we were so busy with work, school, etc. that instead of doing laundry, I just kept buying new clothes. I kept thinking, we don't have enough clothes, I should buy us more clothes, and so I did, and then when I did all the laundry I realized we had way too many clothes. I don't do that anymore. Those were dark days.

I went through a phase recently where I bought a big old stack of paper plates. It was nice for a while, we had less dishes to wash, but the plates have run out, and now we have to use real plates again which means more washing of the dishes, unless I go buy some more paper plates which I'm debating the merits of. I am a woman on the edge here people.

I think I will go to bed. Good Night.

What Are You Doing?

I'm Not Doing Anything Either.

We had beautiful weather today. It really makes me long for longer days and warmer temperatures. The house has been closed up all winter practically, and it is starting to wear on me. It seems so silly to complain about the weather, what can we do about it anyway?

I have been dreaming about all the things I would like to do to the house. I wish I was more creative, I would love to turn our backyard into a beautifully landscaped place for relaxation and just spending time together. I picked up one of those gardening magazines which claimed to make it simple, I flipped through the pages and thought, there is nothing simple about any of this. Besides, I guess it is really not my style anyway. We're not perfectly manicured lawn types of people. We are just not.

I realized that I must accept the fact that my home will never look like a magazine spread. We just don't live that way. Most likely I've just fallen for all of the marketing, when I really think about it, I don't need that stuff. I have a great husband and a terrific kid, I suppose I can live with a bare looking backyard, although we definitely do want to get a privacy fence.

I'm not a planner I guess. What I am is a messy sort of decorator, I put something somewhere, if I like the way it looks I leave it there and move on. I look at those perfectly planned yards and I have to admit they are lovely, but I don't think I could do that. Don't even get me started on the rest of the house.

We've got a lot of weeds to kill off. They had pretty much run over the place before we bought it. We worked on it last summer while we could, but we only had a couple of months before the weather turned cold. It has been darn cold ever since.

Life is short, and precious. I shouldn't spend so much time worrying about the silly things that don't matter at all. This post stinks, but I don't care. It is not all that important. I'm sorry to have wasted your time. Thank you for stopping by, and please come back soon.

I've Never Even Been There

You Are 8% NYC

At best, you're a tourist. At worst, you're a poseur.

How NYC Are You?

a la Miriam

My Brother

He's a Chef in Training. He made this. It was delicious.

I Want To Blog

Really I do.

So many things have crossed my mind this week that I've had to say, "That is going on the blog." Then, when I actually have time to sit down and pound on the keyboard, I get nothing at all. Nothing. Yet, I sit here wanting to write something, wanting to put something down. I don't know why, I just want to.

My own family rarely if ever reads my blog, although my husband did confess recently that he enjoys reading it. I never really knew that. He has always been very honest with me, I can't imagine he would say that for my own vanity.

I guess I'll start with my test results. Not exactly as I wished them to be, but not necessarily unexpected either. This is what he did, he graded our tests, which were a lot of writing about all sorts of interesting things, and he gave us a grade on that. I did quite well except on the last part which he graded specifically on grammar and our writing itself, and not necessarily the thoughts we had. On this part it seems I made several errors which resulted in lowering my grade from an "A" to a "C". Bummer.

Probably all of my sloppy blog writing has had an effect on my writing structure. I guess I'm a bit rusty with writing. The good news is, he is going to allow us to fix our errors and get those points back, which means I could get the "A" that I covet. I'm happy with that idea. It seems pretty fair to me.

Now, my sister on the other hand, had quite a strange thing happen. Apparently, he overlooked part of her writing, and thought she had not included it, and therefore gave her a zero for that section. She looked at me with tears in her eyes as she told me what she got on her test. I could not believe it. I encouraged her to speak with him after class, which she did, he apologized for missing it, and agreed to grade it over the weekend. Poor girl was about to drop the class, she looked at me and said, "D means Drop." Which I understand really.

What I have to do now is find in a writing book just what exactly the errors I made are, and then show him, and he will raise the grade. I guess I can handle that. I feel sort of embarrassed that my writing was so poor after all I actually write just for the fun of it. Granted it has been a long time since anyone has graded anything I wrote.

Wow. My life is incredibly boring. What's more, I just want to go to bed now. Ibuprofen, muscle relaxant, sleep. In that order. Good Night.

Full Moon

I blame it on that.

I was pretty tired, but not sleepy, when I drove home from work this evening. I was driving about 5 miles below the speed limit, in the right lane. I exited, got in the proper turn lane, I didn't do anything wrong. I thought. I was talking on my cell phone, maybe that is what it was.

I stopped at the light, and when it turned green I didn't hesitate to turn. I turned into the proper lane. It was then that I noticed this bozo in a mini van next to me flip me the bird as he passes me. My reaction was, what the? What did I do?

Being not in the mood for dealing with jerk offs in mini vans, I honked my horn, and gave it right back. I looked and it was some old man. Which for some reason really made me laugh. He stopped at the light in front of me, and was looking back at me, and I couldn't stop laughing because for some reason it struck me funny that a man my father's age would actually go around town flipping people off for no apparent reason.

He looked like a crazed lunatic as he sat at the light watching me laugh hysterically at him. I just couldn't help it. Finally, I just waved at him and smiled because I figured since he was picking for a fight with a woman half his age, it would probably bother him more if I did that. The light changed and he took off in a heck of a hurry.

All I could think is, what is a lunatic like that doing running the streets at all? It was so strange. My dad would never stoop to flipping off a woman in traffic, or anyone for that matter. This man was clearly not in his right mind. Whatever, I blame the moon. It seems to have brought the ugly out in a lot of people this weekend.

So I carry on, and as I approach the turn to my street there is a car just sitting in the middle of the street. I stop behind the woman, and wait. Well, she gets mad at me for doing this, yet I don't know what else to do, if I go around her I will literally miss my turn. She flips me off for having the audacity to not do whatever it is she thinks I should do and then drives on. Good gosh.

I'm glad I'm home. I plan on staying home until the moon wanes and these freaks go back under their rocks. And there you have it, not much of a post, but I suppose it will do for now.