Mucho Caliente.
See, I can speak some Spanish. Actually, I studied it the first time I was in college and found it a very nice language to learn, as opposed to French, which I enjoyed, but Spanish was more beautiful sounding to me. This is why no one related to me reads this blog, I can't just tell the story, I have to go on and on with side details. I can't help it. This is how I talk. I like to give the back ground first, but in this case whether I studied Spanish or not is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story as I remember it.
It is pepper season. I went to the Farmer's Market one day, walked past a bin of peppers and inhaled the most wonderful scent. I paused, "What is that wonderful smell?" I found a bag of roasted peppers with the display and held it up to my nose and breathed in the warm pepper scent. It was delightful. I thought, "I wonder how people use these peppers?" I have never cooked with them before. I know my friend makes green chili so I decided to ask her, and later she told me everything I needed to know to be make all sorts of use out of those wonderful roasted peppers. It is a new avenue in cooking I have to explore.
Now, my brother, at one of our bbq's, made stuff jalapenos. Actually, they were kind of like jalapeno poppers you might get at a restaurant. It was a very simple recipe: half the jalapenos, discard the seeds, fill with garden veggie, or chive and onion cream cheese, wrap with bacon and bake at 350 for 45 minutes to an hour, those at sea level may need adjust the cooking time on that. Anyway, just watch 'em and cook the bacon all the way. They are pretty yummy. My husband loves them.
The last time he was home he asked that we make some of these stuffed peppers, and we carted off to the store to get the 3 ingredients. There we stood in the produce section analyzing the jalapeno peppers. I grabbed a plastic bag and began grabbing and throwing the peppers in the bag. There were 4 baskets of them, so I proceeded to pick and choose the best peppers from each basket. My husband said, "Whoa, hold on a minute there, those say they are habanero peppers" I looked at the sign, and said, "No, those are jalapenos, they must just have it labelled wrong, we're fine."
As soon as we got home we began assembling the peppers. My husband began slicing and removing the innards, and I reminded him, "Don't touch your face or your eyes, or you will seriously regret it, oh, and your hands will probably burn for the rest of the day." At one point I saw him at the sink throwing water on his face, his eyes were watering, and his whole face looked distorted, his nose started running, and I said, "You touched your face didn't you?" He shook his head yes, and continued to water. It eventually calmed down for him, and we cooked our peppers.
Now, we had made these things on two other occasions, and every thing was fine, but this time was different. My husband took one huge bite out of a pepper and got a very strange look on his face. "These are really hot" he said. "Uh oh, do you think we might have got the habanero peppers after all?" I wondered. "I don't know, maybe it was just a really hot one." He thought.
I decided to risk it and took a cautious bite out of one of the peppers, my mouth was immediately engulfed in flames. "Oh my gosh, fire just shot across my tongue, I think we must have grabbed the habanero peppers." We both started laughing at our mistake, and decided we would try a few more since we had gone to so much trouble to make all of these darn things. We simultaneously each stuck a whole pepper in our mouths, and chewed them up, and that is when things got really bad. We were in excruciating pain. We asked our 12 year old to drive us to the hospital, but she refused. We laughed at our foolishness and imagined the doctors in the E.R. when we came busting through the doors with our mouths bleeding, and our 12 year old parking the car.
Well, we couldn't really eat them. They were scary hot for us, and we tried to eat them, but we both kept thinking, which ones are habaneros and which one are jalapenos? We just couldn't tell because we are ignorant in the way of peppers, and so I called my friend again, and she told me, "Habaneros don't look like jalapenos, they are sort of an orangish color!" Man, did I ever feel stupid. We were eating jalapenos all along, but they were particularly hot at least to our tongues. No, it is probably because when we had made them before they were not a really hot bunch maybe because they weren't in season then, it just so happens the ones we bought this time had a lot more fire in them. You can never tell with a pepper I guess.
Yesterday we bought some more jalapenos to try it again, this time they actually had habanero peppers and they looked nothing like jalapenos. You live and you learn. We will make them today.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Oh Hi
Guess I Am Supposed To Write Stuff Here?
And here too? All right. I will. A few things. Home schooling keeps me very busy. It is somewhat like having a second job, which is perfectly fine, but it comes with a tad bit of sacrifice of certain leisurely pleasures, blogging to name just one. I think it is totally worth all of it though. It is going splendidly so far, even though the kiddo sometimes wants to gaff off the work, I still see progress being made, and I believe in my ultimate heart of hearts that it was the best thing to do. In fact, I wish I had done this years ago, but we can't turn back time, so we just have to make do with what we have now.
The house has gone to the weeds. Somehow when I imagined myself homeschooling, I had this image of being able to do housework, my own school work, and give the kiddo her lessons, pretty much all at the same time. Don't fault me for thinking too big, I really thought I could do it. Then, one day I had an epiphany, I realized, I can't do all of that. I can't work, go to school, and home school, so I gave up the most obvious choice, I dropped all of the classes I had registered for before school even started. I thought, "I had my chance to go to college and I screwed it off, it is her turn for an education, not mine." With that, I knew I could not serve 3 masters, it would be just too much. Best decision I could have made if you ask me.
I want to talk about something. You know Rodney Dangerfield's routine about not getting any respect? I sometimes think I have the same problem. Lately I've been asking myself, why is it people think they have the right to question my personal choices and decisions? I mean really, if I tell you I am homeschooling my child, do you think you have the right to question that decision? Do you think you have the right to grill me about socialization, and how I am doing it, and what I am doing? I mean seriously. I have had people actually look dumbfounded that I would make such a choice. Here is a thought, I don't have to answer to you. All right?
So, I have patented an answer for the nosy busy bodies out there, who did not give a hoot about my faulty decision in the past to leave my precious child in the public education system which was a complete and utter failure for her: "Well...I gave the school system 7 years with my child, and for seven years I was told, she can't do this, and she can't do that, and one day I realized, she CAN do this, and she CAN do that, but she needs some help getting there, so I decided not to wait any more for the system to finish screwing up her education, and let her graduate from high school functionally illiterate, and so I have taken control of her education, which I should have done years ago."
And then, nine times out of ten they say, "Oh. Well, what are you doing about her socialization?" To which I kindly reply, "I'm not letting her go to school every day where the other kids call her dumb and stupid." Excuse my language, but FUCK socialization. Seriously. I am so sick of hearing that. Do you have any idea what kind of crap your kids are being exposed to at school? Mind you, none of these same people ever questioned what kind of socialization my kid was getting before home schooling. They were not concerned at all about how vulnerable she was to bullying, and abuse by other children, and even school staff.
Next thing, we got a puppy. Even though I said I wouldn't, I changed my mind and got one. I do that. I'm wishy washy that way. I don't know why this is a topic of debate for anyone who doesn't live in this house, but of course, my neighbors have added their little two cents to the discussion. Well, only one neighbor, and it wasn't the bitchy fat one across the street either, it was the friendly one behind us. This one, she has always been friendly, and nice, but for some reason she thinks it is all right to flat out question my decisions. She thinks we should raise our dogs a certain way, and do certain things with them.
I see her exasperated sometimes because she is running from this trainer, to that trainer with her dogs, and she and her husband foster dogs. They like dogs, but they live in a different situation than we do. She can leave her dogs out in the back yard any time she likes, and since they are not directly facing the street there, they don't bark at every leaf that blows across the street,but they do bark, it is just people can't see them bark. Mine don't bark at every leaf blowing, but they do bark at every pedestrian that passes by our fence. She knows we have this problem with our dogs. She sees us out there with them all the time hushing, and shooing them for barking at the fence.
So she says, "Oh you got a puppy, what does your husband think about that? You had to go get a little yipper huh?" I'm not kidding you. That is what she said. My husband came home, and he was less than happy that I got the puppy. I was a bit surprised at that since he had just said a week or two before that when our daughter was asking for a puppy that maybe we should just get one. Anyway, I said, "Well honey, no matter how you feel about my decision, if the neighbor asks you what you think of the puppy, just tell her you love it. I don't want her having the satisfaction of thinking you don't like it, she will gloat over it."
We were going to grill out that day, and so my husband went to set up the grill, and the first thing she asked him, with a smirk I might add, "So, what do you think of the new puppy?" He said, and this is why I love him so much, he won't let anyone else gloat on me, "Oh, I love it, he's great." Well, he came in the house, and said, "Man, you are good, you've got her pegged." When he said that, I knew exactly what had happened. I told him, "thank you honey, I always know you have my back, even if you are not particularly happy with me about it, she doesn't need to know that."
I shouldn't have got the puppy without a definite okay from him. I know that, he knows that. I generally don't do stuff like that. It really was an impulse decision. I am used to making decisions without him around, but I usually try to check out what he is thinking on something before I do something big. He generally trusts my judgment but if I do something he disagrees with, he can be a bear about it of course, but he usually forgives it.
Anyway, I've been running into this problem with people a lot lately, which means, maybe I should check myself. I am pretty good at pushing my own opinions around as well, I have been wondering how many times I've come across with other people this way. How many times have I overstepped the bounds of a conversation and poked my nose where it didn't belong? Knowing myself means, probably too many times. Well, I don't like it when people do it to me, so I am going to really concentrate on not acting this way myself.
Last night we cleaned the kiddo's room. OH MY GOSH! What a horrible pig stye. I guess I haven't actually opened her closet door in a while because when I did I wanted to cry. Everything under the sun, except what was supposed to be, was stuffed in there. Well, two hours later, we had moved the furniture around, and completely cleaned that room. We got rid of a bunch of stuff, including the big toy box, which is going to be given away. She put her new bedding on the bed, and we plan to get new curtains, and some posters. We are going to make it more of a big kid's room, and really cool.
As for the rest of the house, it is not going to clean itself, unfortunately, that technology hasn't been invented yet, so I better get a move on. Which reminds me, I totally wanted to live in a house like the Jetsons when I was a kid. I had amazing foresight as a child I guess. Be back soon. Hugs.
And here too? All right. I will. A few things. Home schooling keeps me very busy. It is somewhat like having a second job, which is perfectly fine, but it comes with a tad bit of sacrifice of certain leisurely pleasures, blogging to name just one. I think it is totally worth all of it though. It is going splendidly so far, even though the kiddo sometimes wants to gaff off the work, I still see progress being made, and I believe in my ultimate heart of hearts that it was the best thing to do. In fact, I wish I had done this years ago, but we can't turn back time, so we just have to make do with what we have now.
The house has gone to the weeds. Somehow when I imagined myself homeschooling, I had this image of being able to do housework, my own school work, and give the kiddo her lessons, pretty much all at the same time. Don't fault me for thinking too big, I really thought I could do it. Then, one day I had an epiphany, I realized, I can't do all of that. I can't work, go to school, and home school, so I gave up the most obvious choice, I dropped all of the classes I had registered for before school even started. I thought, "I had my chance to go to college and I screwed it off, it is her turn for an education, not mine." With that, I knew I could not serve 3 masters, it would be just too much. Best decision I could have made if you ask me.
I want to talk about something. You know Rodney Dangerfield's routine about not getting any respect? I sometimes think I have the same problem. Lately I've been asking myself, why is it people think they have the right to question my personal choices and decisions? I mean really, if I tell you I am homeschooling my child, do you think you have the right to question that decision? Do you think you have the right to grill me about socialization, and how I am doing it, and what I am doing? I mean seriously. I have had people actually look dumbfounded that I would make such a choice. Here is a thought, I don't have to answer to you. All right?
So, I have patented an answer for the nosy busy bodies out there, who did not give a hoot about my faulty decision in the past to leave my precious child in the public education system which was a complete and utter failure for her: "Well...I gave the school system 7 years with my child, and for seven years I was told, she can't do this, and she can't do that, and one day I realized, she CAN do this, and she CAN do that, but she needs some help getting there, so I decided not to wait any more for the system to finish screwing up her education, and let her graduate from high school functionally illiterate, and so I have taken control of her education, which I should have done years ago."
And then, nine times out of ten they say, "Oh. Well, what are you doing about her socialization?" To which I kindly reply, "I'm not letting her go to school every day where the other kids call her dumb and stupid." Excuse my language, but FUCK socialization. Seriously. I am so sick of hearing that. Do you have any idea what kind of crap your kids are being exposed to at school? Mind you, none of these same people ever questioned what kind of socialization my kid was getting before home schooling. They were not concerned at all about how vulnerable she was to bullying, and abuse by other children, and even school staff.
Next thing, we got a puppy. Even though I said I wouldn't, I changed my mind and got one. I do that. I'm wishy washy that way. I don't know why this is a topic of debate for anyone who doesn't live in this house, but of course, my neighbors have added their little two cents to the discussion. Well, only one neighbor, and it wasn't the bitchy fat one across the street either, it was the friendly one behind us. This one, she has always been friendly, and nice, but for some reason she thinks it is all right to flat out question my decisions. She thinks we should raise our dogs a certain way, and do certain things with them.
I see her exasperated sometimes because she is running from this trainer, to that trainer with her dogs, and she and her husband foster dogs. They like dogs, but they live in a different situation than we do. She can leave her dogs out in the back yard any time she likes, and since they are not directly facing the street there, they don't bark at every leaf that blows across the street,but they do bark, it is just people can't see them bark. Mine don't bark at every leaf blowing, but they do bark at every pedestrian that passes by our fence. She knows we have this problem with our dogs. She sees us out there with them all the time hushing, and shooing them for barking at the fence.
So she says, "Oh you got a puppy, what does your husband think about that? You had to go get a little yipper huh?" I'm not kidding you. That is what she said. My husband came home, and he was less than happy that I got the puppy. I was a bit surprised at that since he had just said a week or two before that when our daughter was asking for a puppy that maybe we should just get one. Anyway, I said, "Well honey, no matter how you feel about my decision, if the neighbor asks you what you think of the puppy, just tell her you love it. I don't want her having the satisfaction of thinking you don't like it, she will gloat over it."
We were going to grill out that day, and so my husband went to set up the grill, and the first thing she asked him, with a smirk I might add, "So, what do you think of the new puppy?" He said, and this is why I love him so much, he won't let anyone else gloat on me, "Oh, I love it, he's great." Well, he came in the house, and said, "Man, you are good, you've got her pegged." When he said that, I knew exactly what had happened. I told him, "thank you honey, I always know you have my back, even if you are not particularly happy with me about it, she doesn't need to know that."
I shouldn't have got the puppy without a definite okay from him. I know that, he knows that. I generally don't do stuff like that. It really was an impulse decision. I am used to making decisions without him around, but I usually try to check out what he is thinking on something before I do something big. He generally trusts my judgment but if I do something he disagrees with, he can be a bear about it of course, but he usually forgives it.
Anyway, I've been running into this problem with people a lot lately, which means, maybe I should check myself. I am pretty good at pushing my own opinions around as well, I have been wondering how many times I've come across with other people this way. How many times have I overstepped the bounds of a conversation and poked my nose where it didn't belong? Knowing myself means, probably too many times. Well, I don't like it when people do it to me, so I am going to really concentrate on not acting this way myself.
Last night we cleaned the kiddo's room. OH MY GOSH! What a horrible pig stye. I guess I haven't actually opened her closet door in a while because when I did I wanted to cry. Everything under the sun, except what was supposed to be, was stuffed in there. Well, two hours later, we had moved the furniture around, and completely cleaned that room. We got rid of a bunch of stuff, including the big toy box, which is going to be given away. She put her new bedding on the bed, and we plan to get new curtains, and some posters. We are going to make it more of a big kid's room, and really cool.
As for the rest of the house, it is not going to clean itself, unfortunately, that technology hasn't been invented yet, so I better get a move on. Which reminds me, I totally wanted to live in a house like the Jetsons when I was a kid. I had amazing foresight as a child I guess. Be back soon. Hugs.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
My Neighbor Might Have Found My Blog
Or Cuckoo For Coco Puffs.
Someone doing a search on ''barking dogs property value" showed up. She left the following comment on this post:
"Morrigan is so right - dogs belong in the country where they can run. Keeping a dog on a city or suburban lot is cruel and just plain selfish. Have you ever seen your dog run at truly full speed? I am not talking about scampering around the yard. They need about a football-field-size space to adequately exercise. Taking them on a leash when you're jogging is woefully inadequate - it's only one step above shackles and chains. (End of soapbox rant.)"--Angela
Firstly, she quite misinterpreted Morrigan's comment. I also took this Angela person's comment as a sort of cheap pot shot at me, and pretty much anyone who has dogs that doesn't live in the country. Apparently, I am cruel and just plain selfish because my poor lazy dogs don't have the opportunity to run free in the country. Let me clear up one thing first, I don't JOG, all right. Suggesting that I take my dogs on a leash while I jog is just passive aggressive. Angela is probably some skinny celery eating SUBARU driver.
Why yes I have seen my dog run at full speed, WHEN I took them to the "football-field-sized-space" a block from my house. Amazing huh? Who woulda thunk us city folkses had big ole lumps o' dert big enuff fer our critters to run out in the open huh?
Oh Angela, thank you for the rant, and the lecture. I'm sure all of the hundreds of millions of dog owners that don't live in the country thank you as well. We appreciate Subaru drivers who can point out our faults and set us straight. We're just selfish city dwellers after all.
I am sure you make a great neighbor by the way. I've got some really good ones like you too. What would the world be without people like you? I'm sure dogs would be a lot happier if we just opened up the doors and said, "Go Be Free, Stretch Your Legs Dog, No More Bondage For You Slaves to Beggin' Strips, No More Couch Sleeping!" Get out there you poor tortured creatures, throw off your collars and your shackles and run, run, run.
This reminds me of a story my dad used to tell when we were kids. He would say, "Do you know about the agreement that man made with the dogs and cats in the cave?" I would say "No, what?" And he would say, "Way back in the earliest days man made a pact with the dogs and the cats."
"The Dogs agreed to help man watch over his cave, and in exchange man agreed that he would give the dogs meat and bones. The cats agreed that they would keep the cave free of vermin, and in exchange man would give the cat meat to eat."
"And to this day, the dogs and cats and man have kept their agreement, and over time the cats and the dogs have become pets, and man their care taker, but the dogs still help guard the cave, and the cats still keep the cave free of vermin, and man still feeds the dogs and cats, it is quite a wonderful arrangement."
I always loved my dad's way of telling this so much better. I tried to tell it as close to how he did, but he did it so much better.
There, I took a negative and turned it into a positive.
Someone doing a search on ''barking dogs property value" showed up. She left the following comment on this post:
"Morrigan is so right - dogs belong in the country where they can run. Keeping a dog on a city or suburban lot is cruel and just plain selfish. Have you ever seen your dog run at truly full speed? I am not talking about scampering around the yard. They need about a football-field-size space to adequately exercise. Taking them on a leash when you're jogging is woefully inadequate - it's only one step above shackles and chains. (End of soapbox rant.)"--Angela
Firstly, she quite misinterpreted Morrigan's comment. I also took this Angela person's comment as a sort of cheap pot shot at me, and pretty much anyone who has dogs that doesn't live in the country. Apparently, I am cruel and just plain selfish because my poor lazy dogs don't have the opportunity to run free in the country. Let me clear up one thing first, I don't JOG, all right. Suggesting that I take my dogs on a leash while I jog is just passive aggressive. Angela is probably some skinny celery eating SUBARU driver.
Why yes I have seen my dog run at full speed, WHEN I took them to the "football-field-sized-space" a block from my house. Amazing huh? Who woulda thunk us city folkses had big ole lumps o' dert big enuff fer our critters to run out in the open huh?
Oh Angela, thank you for the rant, and the lecture. I'm sure all of the hundreds of millions of dog owners that don't live in the country thank you as well. We appreciate Subaru drivers who can point out our faults and set us straight. We're just selfish city dwellers after all.
I am sure you make a great neighbor by the way. I've got some really good ones like you too. What would the world be without people like you? I'm sure dogs would be a lot happier if we just opened up the doors and said, "Go Be Free, Stretch Your Legs Dog, No More Bondage For You Slaves to Beggin' Strips, No More Couch Sleeping!" Get out there you poor tortured creatures, throw off your collars and your shackles and run, run, run.
This reminds me of a story my dad used to tell when we were kids. He would say, "Do you know about the agreement that man made with the dogs and cats in the cave?" I would say "No, what?" And he would say, "Way back in the earliest days man made a pact with the dogs and the cats."
"The Dogs agreed to help man watch over his cave, and in exchange man agreed that he would give the dogs meat and bones. The cats agreed that they would keep the cave free of vermin, and in exchange man would give the cat meat to eat."
"And to this day, the dogs and cats and man have kept their agreement, and over time the cats and the dogs have become pets, and man their care taker, but the dogs still help guard the cave, and the cats still keep the cave free of vermin, and man still feeds the dogs and cats, it is quite a wonderful arrangement."
I always loved my dad's way of telling this so much better. I tried to tell it as close to how he did, but he did it so much better.
There, I took a negative and turned it into a positive.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Puppy Go Night Night
You Will Hate Me For This.
Eeee. Awww. Ittle Wittle Punkin' Pie go night night? Ahh, da wittle Punkin pie give keeses. Oh da little baby puppy is so cute and cuddly. I wuv him. I WUV heem! Look Car Car, look at the little Punkin' pie, give him kisses Car Car. Give baby brother kisses Car Car. Aww, ok Puppers go night night now.
I can't stop talking baby talk to the puppy, and it is making people hate me, but not as much as I hate myself. All right. I know I said I wasn't going to get a puppy, no way, no how, but I just couldn't resist. He was the cutest most cuddly little thing I ever did see, and I found him completely irresistible, he pulled me into his powerful vortex of fluffy cuteness and try as I might I could not get out of it, so I got him. He is a baby Pomeranian for goodness sakes, I can only think of two classes of people that can resist a baby pom pom, and they are either incarcerated, or members of a terrorist cell, and even most hardened criminals could not resist a baby pom pom, anyone else not capable of loving such a creature is not worth knowing as far as I am concerned.
Save your lectures ok. It's done. I wasn't going to say anything since I made such a big enormous stink a few posts down about how I was not going to get a puppy, but this is me. Hello, I'm flaky and wishy washy, and somewhat indecisive. I got a new puppy. We love him, and named him Pumpkin, and no my husband did not leave me, although he probably did think about it, but still, I've caught him cuddling the little guy far too often for him to deny liking the little critter. So there.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Odd Things
Underwears Advice.
I hate that people find this site on anonymous searches. I wish I could just be invisible to google. I probably shouldn't blog since that is the case. I pretty much know "who" is visiting this site, and I'm thrilled with some of the visitors who stop by, I just hate the anony search peeps. What bothers me about it is that every so often a perve ends up coming through here as a result of some strange search. Thankfully, this is very rare, but when it does happen it leaves me feeling dirty.
When I wrote the post about spanking, I almost didn't want to post it because I was afraid that it would bring some freaks out of the woodwork, and it has to some extent. Just check the ole site meter referrals thingy at the bottom of the page. That shows what is bringing some people here.
Just ignore the stalker who visits 20 times a day and views 15 pages each time. That is me. I recently commented over at Dustbury blog that at one time I thought I had a stalker because this same person kept coming by so much. It turns out it was me. I was stalking myself. I thought I had clicked the "ignore my own visits" feature, but for some reason it didn't take, and well, I'm by far the most frequent visitor to this page which does nothing more than feed my deep seated fears that I actually have no life.
Anyway, got an interesting search, someone from India wants to know, "Why cannot thong be used routinely as a underwear, bikini" ? It is an excellent question really. Why not? Well, I've covered this before, but let me briefly summarize: It is not comfortable going around with a piece of fabric wedged up in your gluteal cleft, or in layman's terms, your butt crack. It just isn't. So, before running out and buying the latest in thong bikini fashion and wasting $5.00 at the Wal-Mart store, try this simple test, grab your granny panties by the elastic waist, and pull them up, pull 'em up as far as they will go, until your cheeks are fully exposed, then walk around the house like that for 5 hours.
During this time I highly recommend performing some house hold chores like vacuuming, mopping, and pulling weeds, and if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to reach behind and pull those nagging drawers out of your crack, you are not a candidate to wear a thong routinely as underwear. It is fool proof method of finding out if you were made to wear your underwears up your butt. If you manage to pass this test, then by all means, you are one of the chosen few and you will be blessed with invisible panty lines the rest of your days. Good luck.
I hate that people find this site on anonymous searches. I wish I could just be invisible to google. I probably shouldn't blog since that is the case. I pretty much know "who" is visiting this site, and I'm thrilled with some of the visitors who stop by, I just hate the anony search peeps. What bothers me about it is that every so often a perve ends up coming through here as a result of some strange search. Thankfully, this is very rare, but when it does happen it leaves me feeling dirty.
When I wrote the post about spanking, I almost didn't want to post it because I was afraid that it would bring some freaks out of the woodwork, and it has to some extent. Just check the ole site meter referrals thingy at the bottom of the page. That shows what is bringing some people here.
Just ignore the stalker who visits 20 times a day and views 15 pages each time. That is me. I recently commented over at Dustbury blog that at one time I thought I had a stalker because this same person kept coming by so much. It turns out it was me. I was stalking myself. I thought I had clicked the "ignore my own visits" feature, but for some reason it didn't take, and well, I'm by far the most frequent visitor to this page which does nothing more than feed my deep seated fears that I actually have no life.
Anyway, got an interesting search, someone from India wants to know, "Why cannot thong be used routinely as a underwear, bikini" ? It is an excellent question really. Why not? Well, I've covered this before, but let me briefly summarize: It is not comfortable going around with a piece of fabric wedged up in your gluteal cleft, or in layman's terms, your butt crack. It just isn't. So, before running out and buying the latest in thong bikini fashion and wasting $5.00 at the Wal-Mart store, try this simple test, grab your granny panties by the elastic waist, and pull them up, pull 'em up as far as they will go, until your cheeks are fully exposed, then walk around the house like that for 5 hours.
During this time I highly recommend performing some house hold chores like vacuuming, mopping, and pulling weeds, and if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to reach behind and pull those nagging drawers out of your crack, you are not a candidate to wear a thong routinely as underwear. It is fool proof method of finding out if you were made to wear your underwears up your butt. If you manage to pass this test, then by all means, you are one of the chosen few and you will be blessed with invisible panty lines the rest of your days. Good luck.
I Got Embarrassed
About My Filthy Mouth.
It is one thing to rattle off dirty words while driving during rush hour, it is an entirely different thing to see it all in print. I decided to remove a couple of posts. If you missed it, don't worry, it was no big deal, just a bunch of ranting and raving and cussing. If you saw it, well, I'm sorry, sometimes I do run off at the mouth. I just don't want to look back a year from now and see a written record of my transgressions.
Yeah, I'm flaky, and extremely wishy washy. These are not my better traits, but I don't want to be a vortex of negativity here, so I won't continue to list my faults. I will be even more considerate and not list my great attributes either. Blogging is narcissistic enough as it is, that sure is a hard word to spell, without tooting one's own horn every chance you get.
All righty, it seems there will be an outage tonight at 11:00PM PDT, I don't know what PDT stands for other than Pacific D Time, it is the D part I'm having trouble with. And I can't remember if Pacific is an hour or two hours behind where I am. Boy, I'm really showing off my smarts here. One in five U.S. Americans doesn't know what time it actually is where they live, and to add insult to injury, they can't find the U.S. on a map. Personally, I blame Communism.
Have a wonderful day, or night, or whatever time it is where ever you are.
It is one thing to rattle off dirty words while driving during rush hour, it is an entirely different thing to see it all in print. I decided to remove a couple of posts. If you missed it, don't worry, it was no big deal, just a bunch of ranting and raving and cussing. If you saw it, well, I'm sorry, sometimes I do run off at the mouth. I just don't want to look back a year from now and see a written record of my transgressions.
Yeah, I'm flaky, and extremely wishy washy. These are not my better traits, but I don't want to be a vortex of negativity here, so I won't continue to list my faults. I will be even more considerate and not list my great attributes either. Blogging is narcissistic enough as it is, that sure is a hard word to spell, without tooting one's own horn every chance you get.
All righty, it seems there will be an outage tonight at 11:00PM PDT, I don't know what PDT stands for other than Pacific D Time, it is the D part I'm having trouble with. And I can't remember if Pacific is an hour or two hours behind where I am. Boy, I'm really showing off my smarts here. One in five U.S. Americans doesn't know what time it actually is where they live, and to add insult to injury, they can't find the U.S. on a map. Personally, I blame Communism.
Have a wonderful day, or night, or whatever time it is where ever you are.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
One Day
Day One.
Whew. We successfully completed day one of home schooling. What a relief. I can say this now, I have been nearly having anxiety attacks about this thing. I know that sounds completely dramatic to say it that way, but I have really been nervous about it. What can I say? I just don't want to screw this up. Anyway, I think we both have had an enormous confidence boost by our success today.
I'm not going to say it was easy because it wasn't, but we made it, and I only started to yell once. My friend who home schooled her kids told me "no matter what, don't yell at her." I understand her logic on that, and want to keep this really positive. I think she pretty much hates it so far, but I caught her being interested a couple of times. I watched her completely shut down and tune me out a couple of times as well, it was hard to pull her back in. Well we are both new to this so I guess we will go through some rough patches until we get a good rhythm going.
Honestly, I was having trouble figuring out what exactly I was supposed to do with all the books and stuff I ordered, some subjects did not come with workbooks, but are covered online. There is an online portion with the curriculum, and it was a little confusing as to how it all fit together, hence, starting a day later than we planned. Long story short, we dove in head first today, and finally figured things out. Man, I can't imagine doing this without some sort of plan to follow. That is going to help immensely.
We worked for 6 hours with a few breaks thrown in here and there. It took us a bit longer I think because we had to go through all of the supplies to get this and that item we needed, now we sort of have a better feel for what goes with what. I think we are going to do just fine, and I can say with confidence that my child is now one of the U.S. Americans that can find the U.S. on a map. That's pretty cool. She liked the geography stuff.
So, that was day one. Just one day. I think we are going to be all right.
Whew. We successfully completed day one of home schooling. What a relief. I can say this now, I have been nearly having anxiety attacks about this thing. I know that sounds completely dramatic to say it that way, but I have really been nervous about it. What can I say? I just don't want to screw this up. Anyway, I think we both have had an enormous confidence boost by our success today.
I'm not going to say it was easy because it wasn't, but we made it, and I only started to yell once. My friend who home schooled her kids told me "no matter what, don't yell at her." I understand her logic on that, and want to keep this really positive. I think she pretty much hates it so far, but I caught her being interested a couple of times. I watched her completely shut down and tune me out a couple of times as well, it was hard to pull her back in. Well we are both new to this so I guess we will go through some rough patches until we get a good rhythm going.
Honestly, I was having trouble figuring out what exactly I was supposed to do with all the books and stuff I ordered, some subjects did not come with workbooks, but are covered online. There is an online portion with the curriculum, and it was a little confusing as to how it all fit together, hence, starting a day later than we planned. Long story short, we dove in head first today, and finally figured things out. Man, I can't imagine doing this without some sort of plan to follow. That is going to help immensely.
We worked for 6 hours with a few breaks thrown in here and there. It took us a bit longer I think because we had to go through all of the supplies to get this and that item we needed, now we sort of have a better feel for what goes with what. I think we are going to do just fine, and I can say with confidence that my child is now one of the U.S. Americans that can find the U.S. on a map. That's pretty cool. She liked the geography stuff.
So, that was day one. Just one day. I think we are going to be all right.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Oh My Look At The Time
It's September Already.
I love fall, but I also love summer, and honestly, I'm not ready for it to be over yet. Maybe when the trees start turning I will feel better about it, but right now it is just sort of depressing. I guess there is nothing left to do but look forward to it. Maybe I will get some good pictures of the trees this year that might make me feel better. I see some trees are starting to give a hint that they will start turning soon.
At least cooler weather will be nice, it is still quite warm around here.
I love fall, but I also love summer, and honestly, I'm not ready for it to be over yet. Maybe when the trees start turning I will feel better about it, but right now it is just sort of depressing. I guess there is nothing left to do but look forward to it. Maybe I will get some good pictures of the trees this year that might make me feel better. I see some trees are starting to give a hint that they will start turning soon.
At least cooler weather will be nice, it is still quite warm around here.
Are You Thankful Enough?
I Need Work In That Area.
As my husband was preparing to go to work, I whined, "Aww, I wish you didn't have to go, this sucks." He said, "I know." And almost immediately I ate my words. "Gosh, listen to me honey, I have nothing to complain about, we have more time together than anyone we know, and still I have the nerve to whine, I should be more thankful for what I have." He agreed, and we laughed about it.
The thing is, we do have it pretty darn good. He works two weeks a month, and I work 3 days a week, and the rest of the time we have each other. There is absolutely nothing to complain about. I know I should be so thankful for what I have, and I truly am. We have come a long long way. Back in 2004 after he left the military, we claimed just a little over 10 thousand dollars as our income that year. Just 10 thousand dollars for a whole year, and yet, we were happy. We were driving really old cars, and renting out his father's house, but we were all right.
We did have the foresight to realize that we could not go on like that forever, that old cars break down and we were one financial crisis away from completely going down the tubes. We were looking for jobs, and he took a job at a factory nearby putting little bitty ball bearings in pad locks. He worked long hours and made squat for money, but he did it. I applied for job after job, and for the first time in my life had difficulty finding employment. Then he got a job at a hospital as the laundry supervisor. The man who hired him was particularly interested in his background in the Marine Corps, we later realized that what the man wanted was a drill sergeant to whip that slovenly crew into shape.
My husband did his best, but had never worked in the "civilian" world, and soon found that people did not respond to Marine Corps leadership tactics. That people did not just follow orders, and did not accept being yelled at. It was a learning experience for him. He applied for a different position, one that did not involve managing people who refused to be managed, and he seemed much more happy. He had a little desk job, we had health insurance, and all seemed well with the world. The desk job didn't pay much, but it was steady, and decent employment.
I was still struggling to find employment, and eventually got a job at a grocery store at the customer service desk. It paid 7.00/hour, and sucked. This was the time that I made the revelation that grocery store customers are the rudest customers in all land. I had worked fast food as a youngster, and even there was treated more politely than at the customer "service" desk. Perhaps people were less inclined to mouth off to someone fixing their food than someone behind a desk, or maybe in the almost 20 years since I worked in that type of job people had just become total assholes. I can't say which is for sure.
It was working at the customer service desk that I realized that being called a stupid idiot by senior citizens wearing too much rouge was just not my bag, and so I started imagining myself working elsewhere. I had no idea that so many drunk people frequented the customer service desk, but it was there that I discovered that people will return a half eaten loaf of moldy bread, and expect a refund, which they will then take to the nearest liquor store and buy the biggest bottle of Night Train they can get their hands on. Well, we sold the cigarettes, and drunks like cigarettes, and lottos too for that matter.
Oh the lotto players. I still get in line behind them at the 7-11 and want to shoot myself. What a process. These people are hard core, and they are always out in droves on Sunday mornings when I am trying to get to work. What possesses people to get up so early just to exchange their losing scratch tickets is beyond me, but I have seen a pattern. I always feel for the clerks because the lottery ticket people used to drive me nuts. They come in with handfuls of the things, and it can get really confusing.
The day that the old lady stood there and asked me if I was some sort of idiot or something, and my boss stood right next to me and said nothing was the day that I knew I was not humble enough to work there. Luckily there was another plan for me, and an old friend helped me get back to a place that I had loved working before, and after a fairly simple process of jumping through hoops and giving a lock of my dead grandmother's hair, I was hired on some where much nicer where the customers have some manners. I have been there ever since.
I have never so much as set foot in the grocery store I worked at, no matter what they have on sale, and I probably never will. It was not just the customers who were beyond rude, but the management at that store was particularly hateful. I just have no desire to shop there now.
Well, I had the good job, hubby had a good job, and we were doing fine, but really my husband was underemployed, and we knew he could do better. We didn't know how, or what, but we knew he could find a better job. He says he was quite content and that I told him to look for a better job, and that is the truth of the matter. I knew that I had a decent income that could carry us in the interim, and when my dad mentioned that the oil and gas industry was looking for a few good men, my husband looked into it, and being the go getter that he is, he landed himself a job on a rig, and started making 3 times the amount of money he was making sitting at the desk.
And here we are. We've got every reason to be thankful. We both work very hard in physical jobs, but we are happy. I wanted to go to school, but that is not happening right now, and I can live with that for the time being. I may never go back to school, I just don't know. I just know that right now I have to give my daughter that chance. I had my chance when I was younger, I made my choices, and have to live with them.
My dad always says, "People make a series of choices that get them to the place they are." I think he is right. We made a series of choices, but we also took calculated risks as well, and in our case that worked out for the better. We both agree that God had a hand in the whole thing, and that he knows where he wants us to be. We could not have planned this better. Now, we are in a position to homeschool our daughter, and that is something we never planned for, but we are able to do. It is funny how things work out sometimes.
We know from experience things can change at any time. We know we must remain flexible, and be able to make it through the hard times. I think at times we both wonder when the other shoe is going to drop, but we're trying to enjoy things while we can. We sure do have a lot to be thankful for.
As my husband was preparing to go to work, I whined, "Aww, I wish you didn't have to go, this sucks." He said, "I know." And almost immediately I ate my words. "Gosh, listen to me honey, I have nothing to complain about, we have more time together than anyone we know, and still I have the nerve to whine, I should be more thankful for what I have." He agreed, and we laughed about it.
The thing is, we do have it pretty darn good. He works two weeks a month, and I work 3 days a week, and the rest of the time we have each other. There is absolutely nothing to complain about. I know I should be so thankful for what I have, and I truly am. We have come a long long way. Back in 2004 after he left the military, we claimed just a little over 10 thousand dollars as our income that year. Just 10 thousand dollars for a whole year, and yet, we were happy. We were driving really old cars, and renting out his father's house, but we were all right.
We did have the foresight to realize that we could not go on like that forever, that old cars break down and we were one financial crisis away from completely going down the tubes. We were looking for jobs, and he took a job at a factory nearby putting little bitty ball bearings in pad locks. He worked long hours and made squat for money, but he did it. I applied for job after job, and for the first time in my life had difficulty finding employment. Then he got a job at a hospital as the laundry supervisor. The man who hired him was particularly interested in his background in the Marine Corps, we later realized that what the man wanted was a drill sergeant to whip that slovenly crew into shape.
My husband did his best, but had never worked in the "civilian" world, and soon found that people did not respond to Marine Corps leadership tactics. That people did not just follow orders, and did not accept being yelled at. It was a learning experience for him. He applied for a different position, one that did not involve managing people who refused to be managed, and he seemed much more happy. He had a little desk job, we had health insurance, and all seemed well with the world. The desk job didn't pay much, but it was steady, and decent employment.
I was still struggling to find employment, and eventually got a job at a grocery store at the customer service desk. It paid 7.00/hour, and sucked. This was the time that I made the revelation that grocery store customers are the rudest customers in all land. I had worked fast food as a youngster, and even there was treated more politely than at the customer "service" desk. Perhaps people were less inclined to mouth off to someone fixing their food than someone behind a desk, or maybe in the almost 20 years since I worked in that type of job people had just become total assholes. I can't say which is for sure.
It was working at the customer service desk that I realized that being called a stupid idiot by senior citizens wearing too much rouge was just not my bag, and so I started imagining myself working elsewhere. I had no idea that so many drunk people frequented the customer service desk, but it was there that I discovered that people will return a half eaten loaf of moldy bread, and expect a refund, which they will then take to the nearest liquor store and buy the biggest bottle of Night Train they can get their hands on. Well, we sold the cigarettes, and drunks like cigarettes, and lottos too for that matter.
Oh the lotto players. I still get in line behind them at the 7-11 and want to shoot myself. What a process. These people are hard core, and they are always out in droves on Sunday mornings when I am trying to get to work. What possesses people to get up so early just to exchange their losing scratch tickets is beyond me, but I have seen a pattern. I always feel for the clerks because the lottery ticket people used to drive me nuts. They come in with handfuls of the things, and it can get really confusing.
The day that the old lady stood there and asked me if I was some sort of idiot or something, and my boss stood right next to me and said nothing was the day that I knew I was not humble enough to work there. Luckily there was another plan for me, and an old friend helped me get back to a place that I had loved working before, and after a fairly simple process of jumping through hoops and giving a lock of my dead grandmother's hair, I was hired on some where much nicer where the customers have some manners. I have been there ever since.
I have never so much as set foot in the grocery store I worked at, no matter what they have on sale, and I probably never will. It was not just the customers who were beyond rude, but the management at that store was particularly hateful. I just have no desire to shop there now.
Well, I had the good job, hubby had a good job, and we were doing fine, but really my husband was underemployed, and we knew he could do better. We didn't know how, or what, but we knew he could find a better job. He says he was quite content and that I told him to look for a better job, and that is the truth of the matter. I knew that I had a decent income that could carry us in the interim, and when my dad mentioned that the oil and gas industry was looking for a few good men, my husband looked into it, and being the go getter that he is, he landed himself a job on a rig, and started making 3 times the amount of money he was making sitting at the desk.
And here we are. We've got every reason to be thankful. We both work very hard in physical jobs, but we are happy. I wanted to go to school, but that is not happening right now, and I can live with that for the time being. I may never go back to school, I just don't know. I just know that right now I have to give my daughter that chance. I had my chance when I was younger, I made my choices, and have to live with them.
My dad always says, "People make a series of choices that get them to the place they are." I think he is right. We made a series of choices, but we also took calculated risks as well, and in our case that worked out for the better. We both agree that God had a hand in the whole thing, and that he knows where he wants us to be. We could not have planned this better. Now, we are in a position to homeschool our daughter, and that is something we never planned for, but we are able to do. It is funny how things work out sometimes.
We know from experience things can change at any time. We know we must remain flexible, and be able to make it through the hard times. I think at times we both wonder when the other shoe is going to drop, but we're trying to enjoy things while we can. We sure do have a lot to be thankful for.
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