Then There Is This Bit Here.
Hello friends, this is me. I'm even in a good mood tonight. It was probably that 2 hour nap I took today, but I don't even feel like writing mean things at all. Although, I don't usually plan all that much what I'm going to write, I normally just sit down and start writing so I can't promise for sure. I have no more idea than you do where this post is going. It's kind of exciting isn't it? Well, isn't it?
I probably shouldn't write about the little news tidbit I heard on the radio today about how some Principal at a school in Norway has declared that the boy students are forever more required to sit down to relieve themselves. To PEE, she wants them to sit down to pee. Now, of course I have no personal or invested (hahaha, I think that should say vested instead of invested, I'm leaving it because I think it is funny and humbling) interest in whether a boy, or even a grown man finds it more comfortable to sit down to pee or what have you, but immediately, my son, the one I never had, popped into my head and my first reaction was, "Oh no no, there is no way a school is going to say that my son has to sit down to pee, standing up to pee is part of being a man gosh dang it, and the reason men like camping outdoors much more than most women it is a right, or should be declared one if necessary."
My sister and I have reached the conclusion that mothers and their sons have a special bond that those of us who are mothers of daughters alone cannot understand, however I can verify that I have witnessed this mothers and their sons thing on various occasions, it is as true as I sit here, some mothers favor their sons more, even over their own daughters as well. That is not to say that they would not protect their daughter, but I've noticed that some women really go overboard for their boys.
It can be quite annoying, especially to my sister who has to deal with the mothers of 40 year old sons which call her to try and get things done on behalf of their obviously spoiled and inept grown sons. Really, she deals with these mothers all the time. She notes that she rarely if ever has mothers calling for the same reasons for their grown daughters.
Hey, I live with it. As much as I love my mother in law, she changes when my husband comes home for his week off. She's suddenly up cooking and cleaning, and doing all sorts of things that she doesn't necessarily feel the urgency to do when it is just us here. Man, she runs out to the store, stocks up on groceries, and everything else when her son is on his way home. At first it bothered me, I thought she was trying to make him think I wasn't a good wife because I didn't have the stuff done, or that I wasn't taking good enough care of him, but it wasn't about me at all. It was about the mother and her son.
Thankfully my husband and his mother have a good relationship, but he has done exactly as a man and a woman for that matter is supposed to do, he has bonded with his wife and family. I used to think that she didn't really accept me as I would have liked for her to, she was slow to embrace me although she's always been respectful. Living together has changed all of that. We are much closer and have really come to know each other and understand each other so much more. The great thing is we share a bond now as well, we both love him, and can share him. Poor guy there is a lot of clucking going on around him. He loves it even though he's usually the type that would rather be left alone.
Sure I could have left all that bit out, but I think I will keep it. My mother in law will be moving out this weekend. Her house will become available this week. I'm honestly going to miss having her around everyday. I've enjoyed having her here. She's helped so much with cleaning, and she even does my laundry sometimes. How spoiled is that? We've all gotten along quite well.
The cat is insisting that I stop this incessant rattling of keys immediately and pet and hold him. He's finally settled down on the mouse.
Well, this wasn't all that mean was it? See what a little rest can do for a person? Take naps people. It makes the world a better place. Oh and to the Principal of the little school with unisex bathrooms, Clorox wipes. Or something similar. Problem solved. Further, umm, boys, seat up, thems the break, put it down when you are done.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
Who Is In The Mood For Some Pie?
Momma Makes A Mean Pie.
Okay, Bold Stuck. This is annoying. Really, I won't stop. Ah, there. I had the most horrible piece of pie at work today, it was some sort of smashed up apple and peach concoction with crumbs on top. The filling was mushy and thick, and all around not good. My mother could definitely teach those people something about making a good pie. She makes wonderful pie, nothing fancy, the crusts aren't super buttery and flaky like the uppity pie places out there, but they are homemade, and taste just right with the sweet and tangy fillings she adds.
It really is simple, she makes and rolls out the crust, slices up apples, mixes them with sugar and something or other else, I know there is cinnamon in there somewhere, and butter, covers it, pokes holes in the top, and yum, good pie. The best really.
Fall is a great time of year for pie. Something about those bright colors on the trees, makes me think of an apple harvest, and a warm slice of fresh apple pie, with spoonfull of vanilla ice cream on top of course. I don't know about other people, but when I grew up we never had a store bought pie.
In many ways I've deprived my own child of that experience. I hardly cook some days, and most certainly don't bake anything. Although we did bake some chocolate chip cookies the other day, I've practically forgot how to bake a thing. Don't worry though, I never force store bought pies on any child. I don't touch them most of the time.
The school sent home a note the other day about some Fall thing, meant to take the place of the evil and scary Halloween celebrations I remember from growing up wild and uncivilized. I guess the kids can dress as a story book character (boring), but noooooo scary monsters or anything that might "offend" (boring). No swords, or light sabers please (boring), and definitely no Chinese stars or boots made for walkin'. I have to give it to them, at least they aren't trying to perpetrate this year and hold the thing on Halloween night, they chose an altogether different night. Of course, the kids will be able to go "trunk or treating" this is where they go from car to car in the school parking lot and get candy (boring). Yawn. Oh are you still awake?
Now, I'm sorry but this does absolutely nothing to reinforce the message that I have drilled into my child's head for the last 10 years of her life, "don't take candy from strangers in cars," among many other notions.
Excuse me, for saying so, but how gay. Yeah, uh, we won't be attending that one. Let's pretend we're not celebrating Halloween, and then do it on a different night, hahaha, that's really sticking it to someone. Makes me want to go build a fake cemetery in my yard right now.
Do I just not get it or what? Everyone else seems just as content to sit around and let flipping committees of housewives change everything, including people's holidays. Sure I could have gone to the PTO meeting, but I would rather drive a stake into my skull. These mysterious people run the school, and get pretty darn hostile when other parents assert their own opinions on anything been there, once was enough.
Well, who wants pie? Sounds good to me.
Okay, Bold Stuck. This is annoying. Really, I won't stop. Ah, there. I had the most horrible piece of pie at work today, it was some sort of smashed up apple and peach concoction with crumbs on top. The filling was mushy and thick, and all around not good. My mother could definitely teach those people something about making a good pie. She makes wonderful pie, nothing fancy, the crusts aren't super buttery and flaky like the uppity pie places out there, but they are homemade, and taste just right with the sweet and tangy fillings she adds.
It really is simple, she makes and rolls out the crust, slices up apples, mixes them with sugar and something or other else, I know there is cinnamon in there somewhere, and butter, covers it, pokes holes in the top, and yum, good pie. The best really.
Fall is a great time of year for pie. Something about those bright colors on the trees, makes me think of an apple harvest, and a warm slice of fresh apple pie, with spoonfull of vanilla ice cream on top of course. I don't know about other people, but when I grew up we never had a store bought pie.
In many ways I've deprived my own child of that experience. I hardly cook some days, and most certainly don't bake anything. Although we did bake some chocolate chip cookies the other day, I've practically forgot how to bake a thing. Don't worry though, I never force store bought pies on any child. I don't touch them most of the time.
The school sent home a note the other day about some Fall thing, meant to take the place of the evil and scary Halloween celebrations I remember from growing up wild and uncivilized. I guess the kids can dress as a story book character (boring), but noooooo scary monsters or anything that might "offend" (boring). No swords, or light sabers please (boring), and definitely no Chinese stars or boots made for walkin'. I have to give it to them, at least they aren't trying to perpetrate this year and hold the thing on Halloween night, they chose an altogether different night. Of course, the kids will be able to go "trunk or treating" this is where they go from car to car in the school parking lot and get candy (boring). Yawn. Oh are you still awake?
Now, I'm sorry but this does absolutely nothing to reinforce the message that I have drilled into my child's head for the last 10 years of her life, "don't take candy from strangers in cars," among many other notions.
Excuse me, for saying so, but how gay. Yeah, uh, we won't be attending that one. Let's pretend we're not celebrating Halloween, and then do it on a different night, hahaha, that's really sticking it to someone. Makes me want to go build a fake cemetery in my yard right now.
Do I just not get it or what? Everyone else seems just as content to sit around and let flipping committees of housewives change everything, including people's holidays. Sure I could have gone to the PTO meeting, but I would rather drive a stake into my skull. These mysterious people run the school, and get pretty darn hostile when other parents assert their own opinions on anything been there, once was enough.
Well, who wants pie? Sounds good to me.
Per Friend's Recommendation
No More Hate Blogging.
She says my blog has been really hateful this week. Perhaps it has, I won't deny I did go a bit overboard on the toe ring thing, but I tell you, make no mistake I am tired of high maintenance snotty blondes. I really am. You would be too if you were me, trust me on that.
I'll try to post something not so hateful soon. Hugs.
She says my blog has been really hateful this week. Perhaps it has, I won't deny I did go a bit overboard on the toe ring thing, but I tell you, make no mistake I am tired of high maintenance snotty blondes. I really am. You would be too if you were me, trust me on that.
I'll try to post something not so hateful soon. Hugs.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Bleh bleh bleh bleh
No Time For Titles.
How incredibly lazy. I know. It's like turning the heat up when the house gets a chill, instead of putting on warmer clothes first. Ok, I'm over it. I just had to bring it up one last time. I promise to never bring it up again.
To date I am holding an "A" in my class. I got a 96 on the first test, and a 91 on the test that stressed me out all last week. It was so difficult to find the time to get ready for that one, but I somehow pulled that one out of my shoe.
Hubby is home. I love it when he's home. I miss him dearly when he is gone, but I always know that it is just a week at a time. He's a good man. The man has guts. I'm serious. The Marine Corps lost when they let him go. I'm glad he's not in the Corps anymore. We're making a lot more money now, and we can settle in, and frankly, no wife wants her hubby to go off to war. He served 13 years, that was apparently enough.
Why am I bringing up that old trash you wonder? Well, one of the younger Marines he used to work with, I'll call him Sgt. P, called the other day. Sgt. P is picking up Staff Sergeant, the rank my husband was repeatedly denied for promotion, which ultimately led to him being "forced out" and, he wants my hubby to make the 10 hour drive there to pin it on him. I remember when my husband would talk about how people would feel really honored if someone asked them to pin them. It is an honor.
Sgt. P. said to me, "wow, I really owe it all to your hubby, he taught me everything." I suppose that might be true, he did really look up to my husband, I do remember that. He always said my husband taught him so much about being a sergeant of Marines, and it's true, my husband has a certain leadership quality about him, he is often the center of attention in any room, or group, people tend to look to him for guidance. The man still calls my hubby Sgt. Which my husband laughed about. It's been 3 years since he left, he's put it behind him, he told me as much.
The thing is, Sgt. P. is still very much in the whole thing, my husband has had to let all that go and move on, he's so over it. He let it all go. I do notice though he kept some of the better traits he developed in the Corps, which is great, I could live without all the cursing though. I've met many former Marines who have gone on to be wildly successful at something else, and my husband is already on a new path where he is doing great things.
Sure it is an honor to be asked, I'm sure my husband is flattered by it. Will he make the drive? I'm just not sure about that. It would depend on several different factors. Bittersweet is a word quite befitting in this situation. I'm glad Sgt. P. is picking up the rank. The guy will be eligible to retire now, and that is a good thing. The military retirement, if the gov. doesn't go about jacking it all up is a very good deal, probably one of the best out there for the working man.
I guess we will have to wait and see. Thanks for listening.
How incredibly lazy. I know. It's like turning the heat up when the house gets a chill, instead of putting on warmer clothes first. Ok, I'm over it. I just had to bring it up one last time. I promise to never bring it up again.
To date I am holding an "A" in my class. I got a 96 on the first test, and a 91 on the test that stressed me out all last week. It was so difficult to find the time to get ready for that one, but I somehow pulled that one out of my shoe.
Hubby is home. I love it when he's home. I miss him dearly when he is gone, but I always know that it is just a week at a time. He's a good man. The man has guts. I'm serious. The Marine Corps lost when they let him go. I'm glad he's not in the Corps anymore. We're making a lot more money now, and we can settle in, and frankly, no wife wants her hubby to go off to war. He served 13 years, that was apparently enough.
Why am I bringing up that old trash you wonder? Well, one of the younger Marines he used to work with, I'll call him Sgt. P, called the other day. Sgt. P is picking up Staff Sergeant, the rank my husband was repeatedly denied for promotion, which ultimately led to him being "forced out" and, he wants my hubby to make the 10 hour drive there to pin it on him. I remember when my husband would talk about how people would feel really honored if someone asked them to pin them. It is an honor.
Sgt. P. said to me, "wow, I really owe it all to your hubby, he taught me everything." I suppose that might be true, he did really look up to my husband, I do remember that. He always said my husband taught him so much about being a sergeant of Marines, and it's true, my husband has a certain leadership quality about him, he is often the center of attention in any room, or group, people tend to look to him for guidance. The man still calls my hubby Sgt. Which my husband laughed about. It's been 3 years since he left, he's put it behind him, he told me as much.
The thing is, Sgt. P. is still very much in the whole thing, my husband has had to let all that go and move on, he's so over it. He let it all go. I do notice though he kept some of the better traits he developed in the Corps, which is great, I could live without all the cursing though. I've met many former Marines who have gone on to be wildly successful at something else, and my husband is already on a new path where he is doing great things.
Sure it is an honor to be asked, I'm sure my husband is flattered by it. Will he make the drive? I'm just not sure about that. It would depend on several different factors. Bittersweet is a word quite befitting in this situation. I'm glad Sgt. P. is picking up the rank. The guy will be eligible to retire now, and that is a good thing. The military retirement, if the gov. doesn't go about jacking it all up is a very good deal, probably one of the best out there for the working man.
I guess we will have to wait and see. Thanks for listening.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Nouns That I Am So Over
List In Progress.
I'm so over a lot of things lately. Here's the short list:
1. Toe Rings, particularly second toe--toe rings. They are ugly, and so over. Seriously, I hate your little silver toe ring. I hate it. And while I do hate it, of course I respect your right to do that which I hate because deep down I know what I think doesn't really matter, but I'm just speaking of things that I am so over, and that I hate, which happens to include your stupid little toe ring, on your second toe. Gosh I'm so mean.
2. Vegans. Vegans who whine about being hungry all the time. Bonk! Eat some frickin meat. I can't stand them. I can say that here. Vegans get on my nerves. Every vegan I've ever encountered, and unfortunately that number is way too high has always been a whiny, smarmy, cranky little twit that acts all superior. They always have to announce it like they are saving the world or something. Go stuff a soybean and eat it.
3. Grouchy old people. Grump is so unattractive in the elderly. I can't help it, this one is difficult for me. Grumpy old people are my worst nightmare, they show me what I could be like, what my loved one's could be like one day, and I don't like it. I like to think that as I pass through life I will continue to find ways to get through things, including things that make me unhappy. I hate the idea of being a mean old person, it's like I never grew up and learned how to cope with things or something. I would feel like I wasted my life that way.
4. High maintenance upper middle class chicks with the blonde highlights. Gawd I hate the blonde high lights. Particularly annoying on women with nasty attitudes (the I, I, Me Syndrome) who wear the stupid toe rings. These woman are just as eye rollingly bitchy as their low class counterparts who listen to rap music and name their children after hip hop singers. Go drive your super gigantic SUV* up a flag pole.
5. Perky types who talk about losing weight, low carbs and working out ALL OF THE FRICKIN' TIME. This may not be nice to say, but SHUT UP! You are not fat, quit trying to make everything all about you. Grow up.
Go ahead make my list. I dare you.
*Of course not all SUV drivers are bad. I happen to be one myself. It's just the enormous 12 seaters hogging up the whole road, which are inevitably driven by some total dill weed that get on my nerves. I can't help it. I'm just saying what I'm really thinking.
I'm sorry I'm so mean. I'm also really nice too, it just doesn't sound like it right now.
I'm so over a lot of things lately. Here's the short list:
1. Toe Rings, particularly second toe--toe rings. They are ugly, and so over. Seriously, I hate your little silver toe ring. I hate it. And while I do hate it, of course I respect your right to do that which I hate because deep down I know what I think doesn't really matter, but I'm just speaking of things that I am so over, and that I hate, which happens to include your stupid little toe ring, on your second toe. Gosh I'm so mean.
2. Vegans. Vegans who whine about being hungry all the time. Bonk! Eat some frickin meat. I can't stand them. I can say that here. Vegans get on my nerves. Every vegan I've ever encountered, and unfortunately that number is way too high has always been a whiny, smarmy, cranky little twit that acts all superior. They always have to announce it like they are saving the world or something. Go stuff a soybean and eat it.
3. Grouchy old people. Grump is so unattractive in the elderly. I can't help it, this one is difficult for me. Grumpy old people are my worst nightmare, they show me what I could be like, what my loved one's could be like one day, and I don't like it. I like to think that as I pass through life I will continue to find ways to get through things, including things that make me unhappy. I hate the idea of being a mean old person, it's like I never grew up and learned how to cope with things or something. I would feel like I wasted my life that way.
4. High maintenance upper middle class chicks with the blonde highlights. Gawd I hate the blonde high lights. Particularly annoying on women with nasty attitudes (the I, I, Me Syndrome) who wear the stupid toe rings. These woman are just as eye rollingly bitchy as their low class counterparts who listen to rap music and name their children after hip hop singers. Go drive your super gigantic SUV* up a flag pole.
5. Perky types who talk about losing weight, low carbs and working out ALL OF THE FRICKIN' TIME. This may not be nice to say, but SHUT UP! You are not fat, quit trying to make everything all about you. Grow up.
Go ahead make my list. I dare you.
*Of course not all SUV drivers are bad. I happen to be one myself. It's just the enormous 12 seaters hogging up the whole road, which are inevitably driven by some total dill weed that get on my nerves. I can't help it. I'm just saying what I'm really thinking.
I'm sorry I'm so mean. I'm also really nice too, it just doesn't sound like it right now.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Oh Yah
I've Got Something To Say About It.
Yes, one of Samantha Burns' cartoons reminded me of something I heard on the radio the other day. It seems that the dualing egomaniacs Brad "gay wad" Pitt and Angelina "big lips" Jolie are not going to get married until gay marriage is legal. "We're famous and we're throwing an international tantrum!"
Is that so? Yeah, well, I'm heartbroken. Are they still even citizens of this country? Or perhaps I should be asking of this planet because that kind of arrogance is so freaking far out into the atmosphere we can't be sure.
Cry me a river. I think they should both just go stuff a turkey with themselves.
Yes, one of Samantha Burns' cartoons reminded me of something I heard on the radio the other day. It seems that the dualing egomaniacs Brad "gay wad" Pitt and Angelina "big lips" Jolie are not going to get married until gay marriage is legal. "We're famous and we're throwing an international tantrum!"
Is that so? Yeah, well, I'm heartbroken. Are they still even citizens of this country? Or perhaps I should be asking of this planet because that kind of arrogance is so freaking far out into the atmosphere we can't be sure.
Cry me a river. I think they should both just go stuff a turkey with themselves.
As Soon As I Can
Hopefully Soon.
After I take a shower, go to my mom's, do some chores for her, run to the store for her, then go pick up the kids at school at 3:00 p.m., bring them home, make a snack, clean up the snack, chill out for a few, start cooking an actual meal, crack open my book and read at least one of the 2 chapters I will be taking a test on BEFORE next tuesday, after all of that is done, I will come and post something.
I've had a ton of ideas swirling around in this head of mind, and not one moment to sit down at the computer. I could have done it this morning when I got back from taking my kiddo to school, but let me be honest, my bed just looked too inviting. I took a nap instead where I dreamed about work, and actually told off a rude customer, which would never happen, which is why the dream was so pleasant, and I didn't want to wake up from it when the phone rang, but I had to. It's my own fault for putting the phone on the pillow where my husband usually sleeps, "just in case" someone calls me.
So Mr. Conner and I had to get up, and he's here now meowing at me wondering why we can't go back to bed like the normal cats do. It should be obvious to the cat, but he refuses to admit that the dog should get his turn too. I know the dog is all sprawled out in the bed all day when we aren't home, when we are out working our rumps off. We work hard so our pets don't have to. Which has caused me on more than one occasion to admit to myself that man is not actually top dog in this world. The real top is the American house pet. They are truly the most prosperous and spoiled species in all of the world, and maybe even the universe I imagine.
The hairy beasts do nothing all day but wait for the bowl to be filled, the water refreshed, they inhabit all corners of the home while the "owners" of said home are out doing whatever is required of them to pay the actual mortgage. It is deliciously entertaining to think of it as it really is, the pets are the ones who get to actually enjoy the new homes the most, having the whole place to themselves a lot of the time.
Oh well, I suppose it's worth it knowing that no intruder will happen onto an empty house. Here he will find no room in the bed, and cats that will definitely get his burgular suit all hairy by rubbing up against him and trying to cuddle. I'm not sure what my dog would really do if someone broke in, but I think the idea is that most burgulars would rather not find out, and would just as happily pilfer through the underwear drawers of some other home.
Well, I've got to run. Be back soon.
After I take a shower, go to my mom's, do some chores for her, run to the store for her, then go pick up the kids at school at 3:00 p.m., bring them home, make a snack, clean up the snack, chill out for a few, start cooking an actual meal, crack open my book and read at least one of the 2 chapters I will be taking a test on BEFORE next tuesday, after all of that is done, I will come and post something.
I've had a ton of ideas swirling around in this head of mind, and not one moment to sit down at the computer. I could have done it this morning when I got back from taking my kiddo to school, but let me be honest, my bed just looked too inviting. I took a nap instead where I dreamed about work, and actually told off a rude customer, which would never happen, which is why the dream was so pleasant, and I didn't want to wake up from it when the phone rang, but I had to. It's my own fault for putting the phone on the pillow where my husband usually sleeps, "just in case" someone calls me.
So Mr. Conner and I had to get up, and he's here now meowing at me wondering why we can't go back to bed like the normal cats do. It should be obvious to the cat, but he refuses to admit that the dog should get his turn too. I know the dog is all sprawled out in the bed all day when we aren't home, when we are out working our rumps off. We work hard so our pets don't have to. Which has caused me on more than one occasion to admit to myself that man is not actually top dog in this world. The real top is the American house pet. They are truly the most prosperous and spoiled species in all of the world, and maybe even the universe I imagine.
The hairy beasts do nothing all day but wait for the bowl to be filled, the water refreshed, they inhabit all corners of the home while the "owners" of said home are out doing whatever is required of them to pay the actual mortgage. It is deliciously entertaining to think of it as it really is, the pets are the ones who get to actually enjoy the new homes the most, having the whole place to themselves a lot of the time.
Oh well, I suppose it's worth it knowing that no intruder will happen onto an empty house. Here he will find no room in the bed, and cats that will definitely get his burgular suit all hairy by rubbing up against him and trying to cuddle. I'm not sure what my dog would really do if someone broke in, but I think the idea is that most burgulars would rather not find out, and would just as happily pilfer through the underwear drawers of some other home.
Well, I've got to run. Be back soon.
Friday, September 15, 2006
What's Needed Here
Just A Little Balance.
Had my first test this week, I was the first one done, which may or may not be a good thing, but I feel pretty confident that none of the questions stumped me too bad. It feels so good to be back in school. Going back has been something I've wanted to do for years, but I could just never make it happen.
I'm still working 32 hours a week at my job, and taking one class this semester. I'm hoping I can take 2 classes next time. I'm paying for it with cash so it's all going to depend on the money situation. Lordy, when did books get so expensive? My book for one class was $116.00.
There is a woman in my class that still doesn't have her book, I don't know why she doesn't, it's not my business really. She sits and looks over the shoulder of this guy, that would really annoy me. I hope she never sits next to me, I just might get up and move. I have no idea how she studied for the test or anything, it's really bizarre. We're a month into the class now, and she has no book.
Hubby still is a week on and a week off, on the week he's gone I've got to work hard to keep everything in balance. Last week the house got out of balance, everything was strewn all over, and the floors needed vaccuumed.
Our normal routines and schedules have been disrupted by sickness, injuries, appointments, and so on, everything is out of whack. All of the routines have been shaken up, tossed around and disturbed. Honestly, I'm not even rigid about routines, but as busy as we are we've got to have some sort of consistency.
I'm trying not to get too overwhelmed with it all. My mother in law has helped with the house and dishes, she will be moving out next month though. She probably thinks we're a bunch of pigs, but she doesn't say so. We're not really.
I came to the realization that I'm not a housewife. I need to stop trying to act like one. I also informed my husband that I am not a housewife, therefore I can't be solely responsible for the housework. He got it, he's been so helpful. I just want him to come home and just relax on his time off, but he does help enough that we have a good balance when we want to. That's what it's all about.
Had my first test this week, I was the first one done, which may or may not be a good thing, but I feel pretty confident that none of the questions stumped me too bad. It feels so good to be back in school. Going back has been something I've wanted to do for years, but I could just never make it happen.
I'm still working 32 hours a week at my job, and taking one class this semester. I'm hoping I can take 2 classes next time. I'm paying for it with cash so it's all going to depend on the money situation. Lordy, when did books get so expensive? My book for one class was $116.00.
There is a woman in my class that still doesn't have her book, I don't know why she doesn't, it's not my business really. She sits and looks over the shoulder of this guy, that would really annoy me. I hope she never sits next to me, I just might get up and move. I have no idea how she studied for the test or anything, it's really bizarre. We're a month into the class now, and she has no book.
Hubby still is a week on and a week off, on the week he's gone I've got to work hard to keep everything in balance. Last week the house got out of balance, everything was strewn all over, and the floors needed vaccuumed.
Our normal routines and schedules have been disrupted by sickness, injuries, appointments, and so on, everything is out of whack. All of the routines have been shaken up, tossed around and disturbed. Honestly, I'm not even rigid about routines, but as busy as we are we've got to have some sort of consistency.
I'm trying not to get too overwhelmed with it all. My mother in law has helped with the house and dishes, she will be moving out next month though. She probably thinks we're a bunch of pigs, but she doesn't say so. We're not really.
I came to the realization that I'm not a housewife. I need to stop trying to act like one. I also informed my husband that I am not a housewife, therefore I can't be solely responsible for the housework. He got it, he's been so helpful. I just want him to come home and just relax on his time off, but he does help enough that we have a good balance when we want to. That's what it's all about.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
The Kiddo's Blog
Glad I Let Her Try It.
Had I known that making her a little blog would get her interested in writing I would have done it a long time ago. Yes, I do edit her posts for spelling and gramatical errors, as best as I can, I make plenty of my own mistakes I'm sure. I ask her questions about what she's writing to get her to work on filling in the blanks here and there.
Usually what I do is have her sit down and write her post, then I tell her not to post it until I read it. Then we sit here together and go through the post before submitting it. So far it's been a great experience for both of us. Reading and writing have been very trying subjects for her, and anything that makes her interested in either is thrilling for me.
She seems to want to write a lot about the cats, and her dad and I, but as I said, anything is better than nothing. It's been a struggle for years trying to get her to have any interest in anything in print at all, I'm happy about it.
It's not just good for her reading and writing, it's a positive creative outlet for her as well. She wanted a myspace account, but honestly, myspace seems kind of raunchy to me, it rings too much of an aol chat room type thing. On the blog I actually have a lot more control over the interactions because I can shut off comments if some dippy doo comes around trying to cause trouble, and I read everything before it is posted to ensure she is not inadvertantly giving out personal information. She can still do templates, and post pictures and stuff on her blog. She's just a beginner and like her momma knows nothing about html either.
Soon enough I suppose she'll completely surpass me in computer knowledge. I can't wait.
Had I known that making her a little blog would get her interested in writing I would have done it a long time ago. Yes, I do edit her posts for spelling and gramatical errors, as best as I can, I make plenty of my own mistakes I'm sure. I ask her questions about what she's writing to get her to work on filling in the blanks here and there.
Usually what I do is have her sit down and write her post, then I tell her not to post it until I read it. Then we sit here together and go through the post before submitting it. So far it's been a great experience for both of us. Reading and writing have been very trying subjects for her, and anything that makes her interested in either is thrilling for me.
She seems to want to write a lot about the cats, and her dad and I, but as I said, anything is better than nothing. It's been a struggle for years trying to get her to have any interest in anything in print at all, I'm happy about it.
It's not just good for her reading and writing, it's a positive creative outlet for her as well. She wanted a myspace account, but honestly, myspace seems kind of raunchy to me, it rings too much of an aol chat room type thing. On the blog I actually have a lot more control over the interactions because I can shut off comments if some dippy doo comes around trying to cause trouble, and I read everything before it is posted to ensure she is not inadvertantly giving out personal information. She can still do templates, and post pictures and stuff on her blog. She's just a beginner and like her momma knows nothing about html either.
Soon enough I suppose she'll completely surpass me in computer knowledge. I can't wait.
I Went To The Doctor Again
Again. (rated at least PG-13)
Was doing pretty good after the horrific head, nose, throat and chest "cold", but then my ears decided they weren't getting enough attention and my left ear just completely stopped working at all. Then as if that wasn't enough, it filled up with fluid and just kind of sat there like "heh heh." Experience told me that all that fluid hanging out in there just might become painful as the bacteria started having orgies and reproducing themselves in numbers that don't work out neatly like triplicate, or quadruplicate, but are much more complicated than that.
I now have the Doctor's phone number programmed into my cell phone, and make appointments while I'm on my way to wherever it is I am always having to go, I think it's safe to say we are now on a first name basis. Not only that, but now I am scheduled for all sorts of other appointments, like at some point I will be having a tube stuffed up my nose and down into my stomach to look at my esophagus, or something to that effect, and then I have to call back and have the other end looked at as well. Not the other end of my digestive tract, but the part that women love to talk about in mixed company just to see the guys squirm when they think about it. Yeah, that one.
Christine did not like the fact that it's been over 6 years since I've had the dreaded PAP smear, I told her I haven't missed it one bit. She said, "Now listen here, you are going to come in here, and I am going to have a look up your cooter, and you're going to be thankful for it, and I am going to share the information with your insurance company so please do take the appropriate measures and make sure everything is in order and nice and neat when you come in, you don't want this to be a topic at our next staff meeting do you? Well?"
That's just for me, we also planned appointments for the kiddo as well. She had bloodwork done last week and has to go and do the test again because frankly, someone was incompetent at the lab and didn't shake the tube up and it clotted, but hey, Christine figured that would be a good time for me to go and get my test done too. Which was really smart of her I think.
I left there thinking, wow, I can never leave this place, I've finally found a Doctor's office I love. Now I must sound like I go to the Doctor all the time. I promise that I don't. It's just a lot of things have come about all at once, and well it's a pain in the butt making appointments and things, if you have one that's willing to get as much done as possible in one visit, you better do it.
Oh and she gave me some antibiotics for my ears.
Was doing pretty good after the horrific head, nose, throat and chest "cold", but then my ears decided they weren't getting enough attention and my left ear just completely stopped working at all. Then as if that wasn't enough, it filled up with fluid and just kind of sat there like "heh heh." Experience told me that all that fluid hanging out in there just might become painful as the bacteria started having orgies and reproducing themselves in numbers that don't work out neatly like triplicate, or quadruplicate, but are much more complicated than that.
I now have the Doctor's phone number programmed into my cell phone, and make appointments while I'm on my way to wherever it is I am always having to go, I think it's safe to say we are now on a first name basis. Not only that, but now I am scheduled for all sorts of other appointments, like at some point I will be having a tube stuffed up my nose and down into my stomach to look at my esophagus, or something to that effect, and then I have to call back and have the other end looked at as well. Not the other end of my digestive tract, but the part that women love to talk about in mixed company just to see the guys squirm when they think about it. Yeah, that one.
Christine did not like the fact that it's been over 6 years since I've had the dreaded PAP smear, I told her I haven't missed it one bit. She said, "Now listen here, you are going to come in here, and I am going to have a look up your cooter, and you're going to be thankful for it, and I am going to share the information with your insurance company so please do take the appropriate measures and make sure everything is in order and nice and neat when you come in, you don't want this to be a topic at our next staff meeting do you? Well?"
That's just for me, we also planned appointments for the kiddo as well. She had bloodwork done last week and has to go and do the test again because frankly, someone was incompetent at the lab and didn't shake the tube up and it clotted, but hey, Christine figured that would be a good time for me to go and get my test done too. Which was really smart of her I think.
I left there thinking, wow, I can never leave this place, I've finally found a Doctor's office I love. Now I must sound like I go to the Doctor all the time. I promise that I don't. It's just a lot of things have come about all at once, and well it's a pain in the butt making appointments and things, if you have one that's willing to get as much done as possible in one visit, you better do it.
Oh and she gave me some antibiotics for my ears.
I Have A Dirty Little Secret
It Won't Be Much Longer.
I've fallen off the wagon. I'm clinging desperately to the back of the wagon and it's speeding off without me, we all know wagons don't move that fast but you get the drift, all of which reminds me of my friend falling out of her girl scout troop leader's Winnebago back in third grade. Who delivers girl scout cookies in a frickin' camper? Those were decadent times indeed, gas must have only cost a whopping 85 cents a gallon back then anyway.
Lately I've slipped. I've gone from being a militant non-smoker, to a tolerant non-smoker willing to smoke 3 or 4 cigarettes a day. Usually at the end of the day in the evening, I find myself sitting on the front porch, listening to the crickets chirp and sucking down a good old fag. What's worse is how much I enjoy doing that. I put the butt in the flower pot on the porch and move on thinking, "no one has to know." People are on to me though.
I can't hide the secret any longer, what's worse, the urges are getting stronger, I'm wanting more and more now, yet I have not bought a pack, which means not only am I falling off the wagon, I'm also becoming a huge cigarette mooch and there is just no dignity in that at all. I know where to go to get one, people see me coming and clutch their packs a little closer now. They know that not only am I going to smoke one with them, I'm going to take a couple for the road, or for the porch later that night where I can sit and enjoy my smoke in the dark with no one looking.
I'm a bad bad woman with horrid breath. The mistake was thinking I could smoke 2 or 3 harmless cigarettes a day and that would be it, but no, the beast does not work like that. It's all or nothing. My body has begun the cravings again. There is nothing else for me to do now before it's too late, but to head to Wal-Greens and buy the smallest dose of the nicotine patch and get back on the wagon, firmly. What the heck does that mean anyway? Who's wagon, and are there going to be pumpkins there? Will there be hay because when I say that I always imagine a bunch of alcoholics and drug addicts sober together on a sort of hay ride at the pumpkin patch type thing.
I have not given up, I can't let it continue though. The patch works, I will use it again. Prepare for more nutty upheaval as my mood readjusts to life without nicotine again. I know I can have fresh breath again if I only just try.
I've fallen off the wagon. I'm clinging desperately to the back of the wagon and it's speeding off without me, we all know wagons don't move that fast but you get the drift, all of which reminds me of my friend falling out of her girl scout troop leader's Winnebago back in third grade. Who delivers girl scout cookies in a frickin' camper? Those were decadent times indeed, gas must have only cost a whopping 85 cents a gallon back then anyway.
Lately I've slipped. I've gone from being a militant non-smoker, to a tolerant non-smoker willing to smoke 3 or 4 cigarettes a day. Usually at the end of the day in the evening, I find myself sitting on the front porch, listening to the crickets chirp and sucking down a good old fag. What's worse is how much I enjoy doing that. I put the butt in the flower pot on the porch and move on thinking, "no one has to know." People are on to me though.
I can't hide the secret any longer, what's worse, the urges are getting stronger, I'm wanting more and more now, yet I have not bought a pack, which means not only am I falling off the wagon, I'm also becoming a huge cigarette mooch and there is just no dignity in that at all. I know where to go to get one, people see me coming and clutch their packs a little closer now. They know that not only am I going to smoke one with them, I'm going to take a couple for the road, or for the porch later that night where I can sit and enjoy my smoke in the dark with no one looking.
I'm a bad bad woman with horrid breath. The mistake was thinking I could smoke 2 or 3 harmless cigarettes a day and that would be it, but no, the beast does not work like that. It's all or nothing. My body has begun the cravings again. There is nothing else for me to do now before it's too late, but to head to Wal-Greens and buy the smallest dose of the nicotine patch and get back on the wagon, firmly. What the heck does that mean anyway? Who's wagon, and are there going to be pumpkins there? Will there be hay because when I say that I always imagine a bunch of alcoholics and drug addicts sober together on a sort of hay ride at the pumpkin patch type thing.
I have not given up, I can't let it continue though. The patch works, I will use it again. Prepare for more nutty upheaval as my mood readjusts to life without nicotine again. I know I can have fresh breath again if I only just try.
Monday, September 11, 2006
May I Direct Your Attention
To My Kid's Blog.
Note the originality in the name. This is her space, I assist her with some of her posting, but so far it's been up to her what she puts on there. Check it out.
Note the originality in the name. This is her space, I assist her with some of her posting, but so far it's been up to her what she puts on there. Check it out.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Getting Your Karmic Just Desserts
Ever Feel Like That?
Spirituality or a belief that virtue is rewarded and sin creates suffering eventually leads to a belief in Karma.
I often hear myself saying, "well, he/she's racking up some really bad karma..." And so on. I've even caught myself saying, "I guess I had that coming, karma or something."
Lately, I've felt that maybe I was getting a little karmic payback or something, I do realize that might be an irrational thought. You see, things were just going too darn good for us, we bought the house, hubby got a $6.00/hour raise over the period of a month, I've been doing quite well at work, I started school--after years of not being able to make that happen for myself--I even quit smoking, we're driving new cars--at the same time EVEN. We're doing all right.
I have felt that maybe I've been too uppity lately and that is why I've been taken down a few notches, karmic payback if you will. I threw my back out, I've been sick, and so on. Maybe I had it coming. Maybe I was getting a little too boastful about how great things are going for us. Perhaps I haven't shown my gratitude, or even mentioned it enough.
The thing about karma is, we are not better people than anyone else, but we did make choices in our lives that got us to this point. That's where karma fails. Karma would suggest that things are going good for us because we've done or been good, and that's just not the case, sure we've done good, been good, but no more than anyone else I would guess. If anything we've been the recipients of good works and deeds of other people much more than we've given.
Maybe there are karmic forces out there paying back the good and bad deeds of people, I don't know. It is an interesting thing to think about. Christians would probably say it's wrong to believe in karma, but I think it's strikingly close to concepts in Christianity and spirituality in many ways even if referred to by another name.
In any event, it doesn't hurt to strive to be a good person, and do good work anyway. Being a good person is truly a spiritual matter. I realized that one day, it's not a matter of intelligence at all. Someone can be dumb as a box of rocks and still be a good person, while there are people of genius level intelligence who are not morally good. Something to think about really. Sure intelligence is important, but it doesn't necessarily guarantee a good soul.
Spirituality or a belief that virtue is rewarded and sin creates suffering eventually leads to a belief in Karma.
I often hear myself saying, "well, he/she's racking up some really bad karma..." And so on. I've even caught myself saying, "I guess I had that coming, karma or something."
Lately, I've felt that maybe I was getting a little karmic payback or something, I do realize that might be an irrational thought. You see, things were just going too darn good for us, we bought the house, hubby got a $6.00/hour raise over the period of a month, I've been doing quite well at work, I started school--after years of not being able to make that happen for myself--I even quit smoking, we're driving new cars--at the same time EVEN. We're doing all right.
I have felt that maybe I've been too uppity lately and that is why I've been taken down a few notches, karmic payback if you will. I threw my back out, I've been sick, and so on. Maybe I had it coming. Maybe I was getting a little too boastful about how great things are going for us. Perhaps I haven't shown my gratitude, or even mentioned it enough.
The thing about karma is, we are not better people than anyone else, but we did make choices in our lives that got us to this point. That's where karma fails. Karma would suggest that things are going good for us because we've done or been good, and that's just not the case, sure we've done good, been good, but no more than anyone else I would guess. If anything we've been the recipients of good works and deeds of other people much more than we've given.
Maybe there are karmic forces out there paying back the good and bad deeds of people, I don't know. It is an interesting thing to think about. Christians would probably say it's wrong to believe in karma, but I think it's strikingly close to concepts in Christianity and spirituality in many ways even if referred to by another name.
In any event, it doesn't hurt to strive to be a good person, and do good work anyway. Being a good person is truly a spiritual matter. I realized that one day, it's not a matter of intelligence at all. Someone can be dumb as a box of rocks and still be a good person, while there are people of genius level intelligence who are not morally good. Something to think about really. Sure intelligence is important, but it doesn't necessarily guarantee a good soul.
Well, I Went To The Doctor
I'm Going To Live.
No, I'm not being serious, I knew I would live, but I still felt like I got "pulled through a knot hole," as my mother would say. Yep, I'm gonna live, she didn't even prescribe me antibiotics, which truthfully I was a bit disappointed because I really thought I needed them. She did give me some narcotic strength cough syrup, and told me to take mucinex. Good thing is the narco-syrup is not expensive, last time I went to pick up medicines it cost me nearly $100. Anyway, I'll be done with it all soon I hope. At least I can cough the junk up now hopefully without feeling like I'm actually coughing up giant pieces of my lung in the process.
Maybe just maybe I will be able to sleep better. I've had an awful time trying to sleep, I don't even remember what a full night's sleep feels like anymore. I'm going to have to suck it up and go to work tomorrow whether I feel like it or not. Pray it's not busy.
That's about it. I'm just really tired of being sick.
No, I'm not being serious, I knew I would live, but I still felt like I got "pulled through a knot hole," as my mother would say. Yep, I'm gonna live, she didn't even prescribe me antibiotics, which truthfully I was a bit disappointed because I really thought I needed them. She did give me some narcotic strength cough syrup, and told me to take mucinex. Good thing is the narco-syrup is not expensive, last time I went to pick up medicines it cost me nearly $100. Anyway, I'll be done with it all soon I hope. At least I can cough the junk up now hopefully without feeling like I'm actually coughing up giant pieces of my lung in the process.
Maybe just maybe I will be able to sleep better. I've had an awful time trying to sleep, I don't even remember what a full night's sleep feels like anymore. I'm going to have to suck it up and go to work tomorrow whether I feel like it or not. Pray it's not busy.
That's about it. I'm just really tired of being sick.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
You Don't Want What I Have
Trust Me.
I knew it was a nasty bugger when my daughter was sick with it. I was even worried that she might end up in the hospital with it because she has other health problems. The anti-biotics they prescribed her really helped knock the teeth out of the thing. After a day or so of them she was able to go back to school. She ended up missing 2 days of school, if last Monday hadn't of been a holiday, she would have missed 3 days total with this thing. She came down with it Sunday night, and didn't end up going to school until Thursday.
Today is my second day of work I will have missed because of this nasty bugger. There is just no way I could go and do my job like this, besides, other people don't want to be infected with my junk either. I stayed home. I need anti-biotics to whip this thing. So, either I wait until Monday and go to the doctor, or I find some sort of clinic thing like urgent care, which I'm not sure if our insurance will cover.
Vhat to do, vhat to do? My daughter got sick twice while my husband was transitioning into his new job, there was a 4 month wait for the insurance to kick in--that's 2 visits not covered by insurance, to include lab work. Last week I had to take her to the E.R. to get stitches because she busted open her eyebrow when she and the dog knocked their hard skulls together. I had no idea a dog's head was that hard. It was as if she had banged her head on a rock. We had insurance, but I don't know how much it will cover of an e.r. visit for stitches. It was a Sunday night, what was I going to do, let the thing heal funky? It was worth it to keep her from getting a really nasty scar on her face, even if the insurance doesn't pay for it. The Dr. took one look at the booboo and assured me that my daughter would thank me for bringing her in later.
Something we've never had was our health insurance require a $500/deductible, so I'm honestly not sure how that works, but I'm pretty sure that we are going to pay for that entire e.r. visit on our own, and it's going to count towards the deductible. I think. Not sure on that, I'm just waiting for the bills to start arriving. Who knows. If not then I'm sure that I'll be paying for the doctor visit for the chest cold, and the lab work they ordered this week.
Now it's Saturday, and I really need to find a doctor today, or something. I'm scheduled to work tommorrow and Monday, I already called in yesterday and today. Luckily my employer understands that we aren't in a profession that makes working sick an option. It's not like I can go in and just sniffle away at my desk full of papers, I don't work with papers. Papers don't care if I'm sick, people do however prefer not to be infected with the nasty upper respiratory infections of other people.
There the answer has come to me, self says, "just bite the bullet and pay whatever you have to pay for the doctor, who cares whether insurance covers it or not, cross that bridge when you get to it, for crying out loud, you REALLY ARE a worry wart."
All right, there it is. I know what I must do now.
I knew it was a nasty bugger when my daughter was sick with it. I was even worried that she might end up in the hospital with it because she has other health problems. The anti-biotics they prescribed her really helped knock the teeth out of the thing. After a day or so of them she was able to go back to school. She ended up missing 2 days of school, if last Monday hadn't of been a holiday, she would have missed 3 days total with this thing. She came down with it Sunday night, and didn't end up going to school until Thursday.
Today is my second day of work I will have missed because of this nasty bugger. There is just no way I could go and do my job like this, besides, other people don't want to be infected with my junk either. I stayed home. I need anti-biotics to whip this thing. So, either I wait until Monday and go to the doctor, or I find some sort of clinic thing like urgent care, which I'm not sure if our insurance will cover.
Vhat to do, vhat to do? My daughter got sick twice while my husband was transitioning into his new job, there was a 4 month wait for the insurance to kick in--that's 2 visits not covered by insurance, to include lab work. Last week I had to take her to the E.R. to get stitches because she busted open her eyebrow when she and the dog knocked their hard skulls together. I had no idea a dog's head was that hard. It was as if she had banged her head on a rock. We had insurance, but I don't know how much it will cover of an e.r. visit for stitches. It was a Sunday night, what was I going to do, let the thing heal funky? It was worth it to keep her from getting a really nasty scar on her face, even if the insurance doesn't pay for it. The Dr. took one look at the booboo and assured me that my daughter would thank me for bringing her in later.
Something we've never had was our health insurance require a $500/deductible, so I'm honestly not sure how that works, but I'm pretty sure that we are going to pay for that entire e.r. visit on our own, and it's going to count towards the deductible. I think. Not sure on that, I'm just waiting for the bills to start arriving. Who knows. If not then I'm sure that I'll be paying for the doctor visit for the chest cold, and the lab work they ordered this week.
Now it's Saturday, and I really need to find a doctor today, or something. I'm scheduled to work tommorrow and Monday, I already called in yesterday and today. Luckily my employer understands that we aren't in a profession that makes working sick an option. It's not like I can go in and just sniffle away at my desk full of papers, I don't work with papers. Papers don't care if I'm sick, people do however prefer not to be infected with the nasty upper respiratory infections of other people.
There the answer has come to me, self says, "just bite the bullet and pay whatever you have to pay for the doctor, who cares whether insurance covers it or not, cross that bridge when you get to it, for crying out loud, you REALLY ARE a worry wart."
All right, there it is. I know what I must do now.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Early Morning Activities
Well Well Well.
Lame title I know. I don't really care all that much though, you win some and lose some etc. I sit next to my pile of old tissues, I don't care either. Wow, I'm not really as cranky as I sound this morning. It's just I was up most of the night, tossing and turning, stuffing kleenex up my nose and I did not sleep well at all.
The first thing I did this morning after my kiddo left for school was get in the car and head to Walgreens, where I bought, Tylenol Multisymptom for daytime, and for night time, a big bag of Halls cough drops since my throat is starting to hurt, some Vicks vaporub, some vaseline for my very sore nostrals, another box of kleenex, and 2 bags of Reese's Inside Out Peanut Butter Cups, gawd I love them, they only sell them around Halloween time anyway. Now I'm ready for the day.
This isn't really meant to be about my cold, but about how my husband and I invited his mother and her significant other to live with us for a few months. They had moved to California last year and decided to come back out here, so her house will not be available for a few months, so we said they could hang with us for a few months. So they did. I've never actually spent this much time with my mother in law, but so far it's going all right.
She had my daughter and I laughing this morning though. I woke from my sleep to find my mother in law in the hall swatting at something on the wall with her house shoe. "what are you hitting at?" I asked.
"This jumping spider, but it keeps jumping away and I can't get it."
My daughter overhearing the situation crawls out of bed to investigate, "Grandma, that's a fly!"
"Oh my goodness, I thought it was a jumping spider, no wonder I couldn't get it!"
Daughter laughs hysterically, we all start in. Grandma turns off the hall light and goes back to bed. Grandma didn't have her glasses on.
I'm going back to bed now. I know, this post was not so great. It was all over the place, and really just sort of a bunch of nothing.
Lame title I know. I don't really care all that much though, you win some and lose some etc. I sit next to my pile of old tissues, I don't care either. Wow, I'm not really as cranky as I sound this morning. It's just I was up most of the night, tossing and turning, stuffing kleenex up my nose and I did not sleep well at all.
The first thing I did this morning after my kiddo left for school was get in the car and head to Walgreens, where I bought, Tylenol Multisymptom for daytime, and for night time, a big bag of Halls cough drops since my throat is starting to hurt, some Vicks vaporub, some vaseline for my very sore nostrals, another box of kleenex, and 2 bags of Reese's Inside Out Peanut Butter Cups, gawd I love them, they only sell them around Halloween time anyway. Now I'm ready for the day.
This isn't really meant to be about my cold, but about how my husband and I invited his mother and her significant other to live with us for a few months. They had moved to California last year and decided to come back out here, so her house will not be available for a few months, so we said they could hang with us for a few months. So they did. I've never actually spent this much time with my mother in law, but so far it's going all right.
She had my daughter and I laughing this morning though. I woke from my sleep to find my mother in law in the hall swatting at something on the wall with her house shoe. "what are you hitting at?" I asked.
"This jumping spider, but it keeps jumping away and I can't get it."
My daughter overhearing the situation crawls out of bed to investigate, "Grandma, that's a fly!"
"Oh my goodness, I thought it was a jumping spider, no wonder I couldn't get it!"
Daughter laughs hysterically, we all start in. Grandma turns off the hall light and goes back to bed. Grandma didn't have her glasses on.
I'm going back to bed now. I know, this post was not so great. It was all over the place, and really just sort of a bunch of nothing.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Would You Kindly Remove Your Sock From My Right Nostral Please
Or, I'm Sick.
Which makes me quite whiny. I'm terrible really. I can't think straight, don't want to do anything, and have been walking around in my pajamas, and cuddling a box of Kleenex like a 4 year old with a satin blanky since early evening when I realized that I was truly not feeling well at all. It might be a cliche to say my nose is running like a faucet, but it is, and I've been doubling up on tissue with each painful blow, it's necessary, I need the extra reinforcement there. At one point I sat pathetically at the kitchen table with a kleenex stuffed up my nose, just hanging there, and I did not care if anyone saw it either. The thing I hate about it the most is it's completely stuffed up, but running at the same time, so I can't even sniffle at all, it's just catch the stuff when it runs out, there's no sucking it back in. Oh come on, you know you do it too.
I tried to study for my test coming up on Tuesday, but I couldn't. Somehow my brain is in a fog as well. At this point the only thing even remotely appealing to me is reading my favorite blogs. It's effortless, entertaining and takes my mind off the fact that the top half of my head is pounding.
All in all it's been a sick week around here, I'm not surprised that I've finally been taken down to level after the nasty bug my daughter has been fighting all week. Fever, sinuses, cough, in her case bronchitis which called for a healthy dose of anti-biotics. I demanded that she return to school today since her fever finally broke last night. As much as I love her, I do actually kind of look forward to the time when she is at school.
Here's the list of people I'm reading, while I shamelessly stuff tissues up my nose and discard them in a pile ON the desk:
Mr. Kim du Toit
The dear Francis Porretto
One of my very favorites The Passing Parade
One who gives a great tongue lashing: The Baby Troll Blogger
Always something interesting to be found at Tinkerty Tonk, plus I like the ring of it
The girl is smart, Serenity's Journal
She says she's done, but I hope she's not, Frankensoul
The Crazy One, who makes me laugh, she's got a cutting wit, that Samantha Burns
Which makes me quite whiny. I'm terrible really. I can't think straight, don't want to do anything, and have been walking around in my pajamas, and cuddling a box of Kleenex like a 4 year old with a satin blanky since early evening when I realized that I was truly not feeling well at all. It might be a cliche to say my nose is running like a faucet, but it is, and I've been doubling up on tissue with each painful blow, it's necessary, I need the extra reinforcement there. At one point I sat pathetically at the kitchen table with a kleenex stuffed up my nose, just hanging there, and I did not care if anyone saw it either. The thing I hate about it the most is it's completely stuffed up, but running at the same time, so I can't even sniffle at all, it's just catch the stuff when it runs out, there's no sucking it back in. Oh come on, you know you do it too.
I tried to study for my test coming up on Tuesday, but I couldn't. Somehow my brain is in a fog as well. At this point the only thing even remotely appealing to me is reading my favorite blogs. It's effortless, entertaining and takes my mind off the fact that the top half of my head is pounding.
All in all it's been a sick week around here, I'm not surprised that I've finally been taken down to level after the nasty bug my daughter has been fighting all week. Fever, sinuses, cough, in her case bronchitis which called for a healthy dose of anti-biotics. I demanded that she return to school today since her fever finally broke last night. As much as I love her, I do actually kind of look forward to the time when she is at school.
Here's the list of people I'm reading, while I shamelessly stuff tissues up my nose and discard them in a pile ON the desk:
Mr. Kim du Toit
The dear Francis Porretto
One of my very favorites The Passing Parade
One who gives a great tongue lashing: The Baby Troll Blogger
Always something interesting to be found at Tinkerty Tonk, plus I like the ring of it
The girl is smart, Serenity's Journal
She says she's done, but I hope she's not, Frankensoul
The Crazy One, who makes me laugh, she's got a cutting wit, that Samantha Burns
Even If It Kills Me
I'm Going to Post Something.
It's pitiful, I haven't had the time nor inkling to get on here and post much of anything, and that is probably why this is one of the most decidedly boring and unpopular sites out there. Yes, I do sometimes go through the blogrolls of complete strangers clicking on random but interesting sounding links to other sites, and am often surprised what sort of complete crap is linked to out there. Whatever. It's called denial, and yes, I must be unable to admit to myself that I really truly suck at this. Again, whatever.
Given the loss of one of the big daddy's of the blogosphere with his sudden passing, I got to thinking, if I were to die tomorrow, whatever I've put on this site may or may not be a testament to others the kind of person I am. At least in some small part. The question I most ask myself is, what would my kid think of me by reading this site? My daughter is only 11 years old, there is a lot of growing that happens between 11 and adulthood. My best friend's mother died when she was 9, she has faint memories of what her mother was really like.
What sort of things would my daughter learn about me by reading this site? The reason I don't write all that often about her is because I don't feel it is my place to. Suffice it to say, she's a very unique child in many ways, and of course I adore her completely and totally with all of my heart. She might gather nothing from reading this site, I don't know, but what she may or may not someday think about all this is definitely a guide for me to follow.
Just a thought.
It's pitiful, I haven't had the time nor inkling to get on here and post much of anything, and that is probably why this is one of the most decidedly boring and unpopular sites out there. Yes, I do sometimes go through the blogrolls of complete strangers clicking on random but interesting sounding links to other sites, and am often surprised what sort of complete crap is linked to out there. Whatever. It's called denial, and yes, I must be unable to admit to myself that I really truly suck at this. Again, whatever.
Given the loss of one of the big daddy's of the blogosphere with his sudden passing, I got to thinking, if I were to die tomorrow, whatever I've put on this site may or may not be a testament to others the kind of person I am. At least in some small part. The question I most ask myself is, what would my kid think of me by reading this site? My daughter is only 11 years old, there is a lot of growing that happens between 11 and adulthood. My best friend's mother died when she was 9, she has faint memories of what her mother was really like.
What sort of things would my daughter learn about me by reading this site? The reason I don't write all that often about her is because I don't feel it is my place to. Suffice it to say, she's a very unique child in many ways, and of course I adore her completely and totally with all of my heart. She might gather nothing from reading this site, I don't know, but what she may or may not someday think about all this is definitely a guide for me to follow.
Just a thought.
Monday, September 04, 2006
This Just In
People Are Spazzing Out All Over.
Oh gosh. I hear them on the O'Reilly factor spazzing out about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I mean come on. I hate sex offenders just as much as the next person okay? But seriously, I'm not worried about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I don't care. People need jobs, even sex offenders. Seriously, they can't even get my frickin order right, I don't plan on leaving my child there to be supervised by McDonalds workers that would be neglect on my part. What's the big frappin deal here? What's next? Is McDonalds going to start hiring drunk drivers? We're doomed.
Oh gosh. I hear them on the O'Reilly factor spazzing out about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I mean come on. I hate sex offenders just as much as the next person okay? But seriously, I'm not worried about sex offenders working at McDonalds. I don't care. People need jobs, even sex offenders. Seriously, they can't even get my frickin order right, I don't plan on leaving my child there to be supervised by McDonalds workers that would be neglect on my part. What's the big frappin deal here? What's next? Is McDonalds going to start hiring drunk drivers? We're doomed.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
I'm A Stew-dent, I'm A Stew-dent
Oh Boy.
I'm taking a cla-ass, I'm taking a cla-ass. I'm going to schoo-llll, I'm going to schoo-llll. I'm X-sigh-ted, I'm X-sigh-ted.
I hope I do all right. It's just one class to see how I like it, if I do, I may pursue more classes in that field. If not, well, I'll do something else by golly, I'm just not going to waste these brains of mine anymore. It finally dawned on me, hey, I'm not beautiful, I'm not skinny, I'm not particularly interesting, but I've always been pretty smart, I think I'll try getting by on my brain for once rather than my good looks which haven't taken me far. Heh.
I'm taking a cla-ass, I'm taking a cla-ass. I'm going to schoo-llll, I'm going to schoo-llll. I'm X-sigh-ted, I'm X-sigh-ted.
I hope I do all right. It's just one class to see how I like it, if I do, I may pursue more classes in that field. If not, well, I'll do something else by golly, I'm just not going to waste these brains of mine anymore. It finally dawned on me, hey, I'm not beautiful, I'm not skinny, I'm not particularly interesting, but I've always been pretty smart, I think I'll try getting by on my brain for once rather than my good looks which haven't taken me far. Heh.
Bare It, We'll Share It
Kiss My...
Fricken Bold Stuck. P.M.S. Don't Mess with me. Deal with it. I'm having a bad freakin' week. Oh, there it stopped, good gosh.
Yeah uh, I was reading a rant about boomers at Kim du Toit's place, and I couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly. I've always sort of felt that viagra and the like were nothing more than a curse on old women. Many old women I've known have pretty much said after a certain age sex is just something they do to keep hubby from getting cranky. Hubby's hate to hear stuff like that, but honestly, those old broads have got no use for it at all. It's hormones men, it only makes sense. Now now, hush, I'm sure there are some oldies who still want to do it, okay? I readily acknowledge the existence of horny old chicks, all right, I'm sure they are out there somewhere.
Of course I wouldn't know, I'm not at that point in my life yet, and I'm really only speaking of a very small sampling of older post-menopausal women. Seems to me that it only makes sense that God would make us that way. It's always seemed pretty simple to me, he gave men the drive, and women the brakes. Otherwise we would spend so much time reproducing, and very little time doing anything else. I don't know that's just my simple way of thinking about things.
Excuse me if this is too much information, but I don't suppose at 80 getting it on will be all that important to me. By then hubby and I, if we are still alive, and still together may want to, but I'm not all that worried about if we don't, or can't either. Heck, I'll be surprised if we get around to more than hollering "just wait til my social security check get's here, I'm leaving," at each other at various times throughout the day.
I really can't talk about this anymore, I'm getting grossed out. Anyway, yes, I'm sick of the dumb ads for e.d. as well. Oh, and they took $900.00 out of my husband's last paycheck for taxes. We are officially paying enough to support a whole 'nother family now. Actually, two families really given my tax burdens as well. That's for a 2 week pay period. $900 to these mother fuckers.
Retirement? Umm, we don't have one. I guess we'll be too busy working until the day we fucking die to worry about if hubby can still get it up or not.
Fricken Bold Stuck. P.M.S. Don't Mess with me. Deal with it. I'm having a bad freakin' week. Oh, there it stopped, good gosh.
Yeah uh, I was reading a rant about boomers at Kim du Toit's place, and I couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly. I've always sort of felt that viagra and the like were nothing more than a curse on old women. Many old women I've known have pretty much said after a certain age sex is just something they do to keep hubby from getting cranky. Hubby's hate to hear stuff like that, but honestly, those old broads have got no use for it at all. It's hormones men, it only makes sense. Now now, hush, I'm sure there are some oldies who still want to do it, okay? I readily acknowledge the existence of horny old chicks, all right, I'm sure they are out there somewhere.
Of course I wouldn't know, I'm not at that point in my life yet, and I'm really only speaking of a very small sampling of older post-menopausal women. Seems to me that it only makes sense that God would make us that way. It's always seemed pretty simple to me, he gave men the drive, and women the brakes. Otherwise we would spend so much time reproducing, and very little time doing anything else. I don't know that's just my simple way of thinking about things.
Excuse me if this is too much information, but I don't suppose at 80 getting it on will be all that important to me. By then hubby and I, if we are still alive, and still together may want to, but I'm not all that worried about if we don't, or can't either. Heck, I'll be surprised if we get around to more than hollering "just wait til my social security check get's here, I'm leaving," at each other at various times throughout the day.
I really can't talk about this anymore, I'm getting grossed out. Anyway, yes, I'm sick of the dumb ads for e.d. as well. Oh, and they took $900.00 out of my husband's last paycheck for taxes. We are officially paying enough to support a whole 'nother family now. Actually, two families really given my tax burdens as well. That's for a 2 week pay period. $900 to these mother fuckers.
Retirement? Umm, we don't have one. I guess we'll be too busy working until the day we fucking die to worry about if hubby can still get it up or not.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Welcome To Our Town
You DO Feel Welcome Don't You?
Yes, Yes, Yes, I remember the times my mother would take us back to visit relatives, and in our yearly drive across Kansas we had two responsibilities, 1. Watch for cops 2. Look out for cops. That's when mom demonstrated what a deviant she really is. She got that 1976 Olds 98 up to a nice cruising speed of 90 m.p.h. and we watched for the fuzz. Mom taught us how to speed, and how not to get caught.
The first rule is, when speeding, always, always, slow down to the speed limit when passing through little podunk towns. Cops love to hang out at the entrance to town and give out of towners tickets. This isn't news to anyone is it? Second, always do the speed limit by and around rest areas. Duh! Thirdly, if the trucks are all slowing down to speed limit, then by golly follow their lead. They do have communication devices on board. Now these are just some general guidelines to follow. I don't speed at all so I don't really need to use these rules, and I most certainly don't condone speeding. My mom was just always a rebel that's all, times have changed, and they don't make cars like they used to either.
Now, you'll never believe what the officials in our great city have done here, and to be honest I think it is just down right tacky, pushy, and threatening as well. You know those signs they have now that can give messages like, "I-5 closed ahead" and so on? Well, the one we have here flashes, "Under Arrest!" "Over the Limit!" I mean really. I almost crapped my pants when I came speeding into town today and saw a sign that said, "Under Arrest, Over the limit!"
At first I didn't know what to make of it. I thought it was saying that I was over the speed limit, and that I was going to be arrested, which in fact I was not, but I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to slow down just in case.
Then I realized what it was, it was just nothing more then the everyday harrassment we endure from the local government. My God, now they have freakin' message boards harrassing us stupid criminals. Somebody is getting too darn big for the britches if you ask me. This is just too much. This is way worse than the little podunk town cops getting a few speeders, this is blatant harrassment. Under Arrest my ass. Kiss it.
How about a "Welcome to Our Town!" "Hope you enjoy your stay." Spend some money. See the sights. Stay a while, then leave please. Don't move here, especially if you are a meat hating granola eating cud chewer with too much money on your hands.
Yes, Yes, Yes, I remember the times my mother would take us back to visit relatives, and in our yearly drive across Kansas we had two responsibilities, 1. Watch for cops 2. Look out for cops. That's when mom demonstrated what a deviant she really is. She got that 1976 Olds 98 up to a nice cruising speed of 90 m.p.h. and we watched for the fuzz. Mom taught us how to speed, and how not to get caught.
The first rule is, when speeding, always, always, slow down to the speed limit when passing through little podunk towns. Cops love to hang out at the entrance to town and give out of towners tickets. This isn't news to anyone is it? Second, always do the speed limit by and around rest areas. Duh! Thirdly, if the trucks are all slowing down to speed limit, then by golly follow their lead. They do have communication devices on board. Now these are just some general guidelines to follow. I don't speed at all so I don't really need to use these rules, and I most certainly don't condone speeding. My mom was just always a rebel that's all, times have changed, and they don't make cars like they used to either.
Now, you'll never believe what the officials in our great city have done here, and to be honest I think it is just down right tacky, pushy, and threatening as well. You know those signs they have now that can give messages like, "I-5 closed ahead" and so on? Well, the one we have here flashes, "Under Arrest!" "Over the Limit!" I mean really. I almost crapped my pants when I came speeding into town today and saw a sign that said, "Under Arrest, Over the limit!"
At first I didn't know what to make of it. I thought it was saying that I was over the speed limit, and that I was going to be arrested, which in fact I was not, but I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to slow down just in case.
Then I realized what it was, it was just nothing more then the everyday harrassment we endure from the local government. My God, now they have freakin' message boards harrassing us stupid criminals. Somebody is getting too darn big for the britches if you ask me. This is just too much. This is way worse than the little podunk town cops getting a few speeders, this is blatant harrassment. Under Arrest my ass. Kiss it.
How about a "Welcome to Our Town!" "Hope you enjoy your stay." Spend some money. See the sights. Stay a while, then leave please. Don't move here, especially if you are a meat hating granola eating cud chewer with too much money on your hands.
Soulmates
Bonding At The Video Store.
We share a special bond. I guess we've been together so long that our biological processes are almost perfectly timed now. Apparently that is. After a lovely dinner at a local Italian restaurant as we drove home we decided we would stop and rent just one movie, and that way we could enjoy some time together alone on the couch watching it.
We entered the store and started walking the wall looking for something of interest. I wandered along faster than he did and soon I found myself all alone on the north east corner of the store, just as well I thought because after eating such a rich dinner there seemed to be a humongous gas bubble banging around inside me waiting to be let out. It was really hurting. I looked around, no one was in sight, I let a bit go, it didn't stink I thought, so I decided to just let the wind blow and feel better.
That's when I realized that the initial smell test I did was completely wrong, that in fact not only did it stink, it stank really really bad. It was the thick smelling kind that just hangs there not willing to dissapate and leave. Just then my husband wanders by, "oh my gosh, I'm glad to see you, we need to leave this area immediately!" I tell him. "Why?" He asks. "I've got horrible gas, and it stinks, smell the air." I replied.
"Eww. Oh my gosh it does stink!" He announces. "Yes, I know, now come on, there are teen agers walking this way," and I duck down the aisle. We weave in and out of aisle's trying to get as far away as possible, and that's when I say, "we've got to get out of here, forget the movie, this is too embarrassing, let's go." And he agreed. As we made our way through the rows of movies, he tells me that he too just experienced extreme gas pains on the other side of the store, and thought he was alone and let it out only to find that indeed he was not alone, and some woman walked by him and said, "Excuse Me!" So, he said, "Excuse me!" right back to her.
That's when I saw the teen agers come out of the area where I had left the horrible stench, and they were laughing uncontrollably, the look on their faces told it all. I know they knew we did it, my only salvation is that I got out of there before he did, so it looks more like he did it then I did, or at least that's what I'm hoping. I tell you it was a bad one.
We got to the car both humiliated and laughing hysterically at each other. It was bad, we both had tummy aches, and had been overwhelmed to the point having to release it. It must have been something we ate. We never did get a movie to watch. All in all it was a good night though.
We share a special bond. I guess we've been together so long that our biological processes are almost perfectly timed now. Apparently that is. After a lovely dinner at a local Italian restaurant as we drove home we decided we would stop and rent just one movie, and that way we could enjoy some time together alone on the couch watching it.
We entered the store and started walking the wall looking for something of interest. I wandered along faster than he did and soon I found myself all alone on the north east corner of the store, just as well I thought because after eating such a rich dinner there seemed to be a humongous gas bubble banging around inside me waiting to be let out. It was really hurting. I looked around, no one was in sight, I let a bit go, it didn't stink I thought, so I decided to just let the wind blow and feel better.
That's when I realized that the initial smell test I did was completely wrong, that in fact not only did it stink, it stank really really bad. It was the thick smelling kind that just hangs there not willing to dissapate and leave. Just then my husband wanders by, "oh my gosh, I'm glad to see you, we need to leave this area immediately!" I tell him. "Why?" He asks. "I've got horrible gas, and it stinks, smell the air." I replied.
"Eww. Oh my gosh it does stink!" He announces. "Yes, I know, now come on, there are teen agers walking this way," and I duck down the aisle. We weave in and out of aisle's trying to get as far away as possible, and that's when I say, "we've got to get out of here, forget the movie, this is too embarrassing, let's go." And he agreed. As we made our way through the rows of movies, he tells me that he too just experienced extreme gas pains on the other side of the store, and thought he was alone and let it out only to find that indeed he was not alone, and some woman walked by him and said, "Excuse Me!" So, he said, "Excuse me!" right back to her.
That's when I saw the teen agers come out of the area where I had left the horrible stench, and they were laughing uncontrollably, the look on their faces told it all. I know they knew we did it, my only salvation is that I got out of there before he did, so it looks more like he did it then I did, or at least that's what I'm hoping. I tell you it was a bad one.
We got to the car both humiliated and laughing hysterically at each other. It was bad, we both had tummy aches, and had been overwhelmed to the point having to release it. It must have been something we ate. We never did get a movie to watch. All in all it was a good night though.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Computers Make Life Easier
Oh Yeah Right.
Of course they do. I love the ole computer. I adore technology when it is used for good, and not evil. Now, when I went to college twelve years ago, I still sometimes typed my papers out on a good old fashioned electric typewriter, and barely used a computer. Sure did. Heck, when I learned how to type way back in 1984 the teacher demanded that we all rotate and each get a chance to type on the electric one, but he preferred that we learn how to type on the manual typewriter, plus we only had 4 of the electric anyway.
I remember how he told us it was much more important that we type on the manual ones, and learn how to use them well, ironically I don't think I've ever used one since, but I darn well could if I had to. I guess he thought it would build the muscular finger strength we were going to need for the rest of our lives, and sure enough I do possess a great amount of finger strength, especially my middle one which I use in traffic all the time. That's what is wrong with kids these days you know. They've never had to actually fix any of their own mistakes, or even try hard not to make any, although I can't honestly say I'm much better and I did have to fix a lot of crap on that darn old type writer.
So there I was the other day at the college, about 2 years ago I decided I was going to go and enroll and take a class or two, and being such the procrastinator I've only just got around to going this week. Imagine how other areas of my life are fairing with such lack of direction. Actually there were other factors, or at least that's my story. Procrastinators are chronically abusing the "other factors" excuse, and I'm no exception. Anyway, so I went, mind you it's been 12 years or so since I've taken a class at any college.
I mentally prepared myself to deal with the lines, the go here cross this "T", and go there and dot this "I" silliness that caused me to drop out of college in the first place. I really do hate people who say, "well college shows that a person has sticktoitiveness, that they're able to finish something!" That is the biggest crock of bull hockey I've just about ever heard. Seriously. I think cleaning other people's toilets for the same amount of time just as easily demonstrates real committment, and even a willingness to put up with an awful lot of crap.
That being said, there is a time and place for everything. One class. I'll just start with that. I just want to get a feel for it, and see if I like it. That's all I'm going to say on it at the moment. I hate talking myself up about something and then it's not what I want, and then I look all wishy washy and stuff.
Oh my gosh I am completely sucking at telling this simple story. Well, I went down there, stood in line at the admission office waiting my turn. I get up there, "hello, I would like to take a class, what do I need to do? I don't see any application for admission sheets anywhere."
Extremely sarcastic looking woman replies, "you need to go over there to those computers and apply." All righty. Computer huh? This should be a breeze then. I'll be done and outta here with my class in no time. Umm, no. The computer doesn't give an answer until 72 hours later. The computer crashed while I was there. I had to go home and finish putting the application in. I'm still waiting for an answer. The computer says I'm a non-resident which is a load of hooey. And basically I can't pay for the class online anyway, so I'm going to have to go back out to the school on my day off, and they will undoubtedly want a lock of my dead great great grandmother's hair, and the deed to my home as proof that I do actually live in this state, and am in fact a resident taxpayer.
I would think that a college would have a more efficient system, it being an institution of higher learning and all, I mean heck, there are supposed to be smart people around there running the place right? Sure it's way way way better than the old days where it literally took a whole day to register for a class, but I'll tell ya, the staff is still the typical rude and indifferent government employee types like usual. I swear there are some sadistic people out there who really get off on wrecking people's days and wasting their time. It's a real turn on for some people. The more you protest or become angry, that's all the more pleasure they get out of it, which is cool if you are into that sort of thing, but I'm definitely not into being a doormat thank you very much.
Whatever. I'm over it. So, I'm waiting until my day off when I can hopefully get registered to take my class, and see if I like it, and go from there. At least I can use a computer to get me through this time. That will help so much, even if their system was absolutely useless in the process, I'm sure it helped someone at some point, just not me that's all.
Of course they do. I love the ole computer. I adore technology when it is used for good, and not evil. Now, when I went to college twelve years ago, I still sometimes typed my papers out on a good old fashioned electric typewriter, and barely used a computer. Sure did. Heck, when I learned how to type way back in 1984 the teacher demanded that we all rotate and each get a chance to type on the electric one, but he preferred that we learn how to type on the manual typewriter, plus we only had 4 of the electric anyway.
I remember how he told us it was much more important that we type on the manual ones, and learn how to use them well, ironically I don't think I've ever used one since, but I darn well could if I had to. I guess he thought it would build the muscular finger strength we were going to need for the rest of our lives, and sure enough I do possess a great amount of finger strength, especially my middle one which I use in traffic all the time. That's what is wrong with kids these days you know. They've never had to actually fix any of their own mistakes, or even try hard not to make any, although I can't honestly say I'm much better and I did have to fix a lot of crap on that darn old type writer.
So there I was the other day at the college, about 2 years ago I decided I was going to go and enroll and take a class or two, and being such the procrastinator I've only just got around to going this week. Imagine how other areas of my life are fairing with such lack of direction. Actually there were other factors, or at least that's my story. Procrastinators are chronically abusing the "other factors" excuse, and I'm no exception. Anyway, so I went, mind you it's been 12 years or so since I've taken a class at any college.
I mentally prepared myself to deal with the lines, the go here cross this "T", and go there and dot this "I" silliness that caused me to drop out of college in the first place. I really do hate people who say, "well college shows that a person has sticktoitiveness, that they're able to finish something!" That is the biggest crock of bull hockey I've just about ever heard. Seriously. I think cleaning other people's toilets for the same amount of time just as easily demonstrates real committment, and even a willingness to put up with an awful lot of crap.
That being said, there is a time and place for everything. One class. I'll just start with that. I just want to get a feel for it, and see if I like it. That's all I'm going to say on it at the moment. I hate talking myself up about something and then it's not what I want, and then I look all wishy washy and stuff.
Oh my gosh I am completely sucking at telling this simple story. Well, I went down there, stood in line at the admission office waiting my turn. I get up there, "hello, I would like to take a class, what do I need to do? I don't see any application for admission sheets anywhere."
Extremely sarcastic looking woman replies, "you need to go over there to those computers and apply." All righty. Computer huh? This should be a breeze then. I'll be done and outta here with my class in no time. Umm, no. The computer doesn't give an answer until 72 hours later. The computer crashed while I was there. I had to go home and finish putting the application in. I'm still waiting for an answer. The computer says I'm a non-resident which is a load of hooey. And basically I can't pay for the class online anyway, so I'm going to have to go back out to the school on my day off, and they will undoubtedly want a lock of my dead great great grandmother's hair, and the deed to my home as proof that I do actually live in this state, and am in fact a resident taxpayer.
I would think that a college would have a more efficient system, it being an institution of higher learning and all, I mean heck, there are supposed to be smart people around there running the place right? Sure it's way way way better than the old days where it literally took a whole day to register for a class, but I'll tell ya, the staff is still the typical rude and indifferent government employee types like usual. I swear there are some sadistic people out there who really get off on wrecking people's days and wasting their time. It's a real turn on for some people. The more you protest or become angry, that's all the more pleasure they get out of it, which is cool if you are into that sort of thing, but I'm definitely not into being a doormat thank you very much.
Whatever. I'm over it. So, I'm waiting until my day off when I can hopefully get registered to take my class, and see if I like it, and go from there. At least I can use a computer to get me through this time. That will help so much, even if their system was absolutely useless in the process, I'm sure it helped someone at some point, just not me that's all.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
I Don't Claim To Know
(repost)
All I know is that something is wrong. I believe we are a nation in a fair amount of turmoil. We've gone too far. We've become too dependent on the government solving our problems. We don't deal with conflicts amongst ourselves with any bit of fairness or maturity, and the gov is always there to step in and "mediate". Problem is, our gov is made up of people who are not impartial themselves, and who blatantly pursue their own betterment and interests right in front of us.
Today I heard the cashier at Wal-Mart telling the customer in front of me, who appeared to be of some aquaintance, that she only takes home about $200.00 every two weeks. I was appalled. We've all heard tales of how Wal-Mart employees depend on social programs to fill in the gaps, and make up for the low wages they are paid. No one in any city can live on that kind of money. We all know the trick of the trade in which employers hire only "part time" workers so that they can avoid paying out any sort of benefits like health insurance.
I realize some would say, "well, they can look for a better job, they don't have to work there..." and so on. Sure, I can see that I suppose. I know at one point I was so desperate for work I would have skipped with glee if I had a job at Wal-Mart. Here Wal-Mart can hire military wives, retirees, and so on and not have to worry about paying a living wage. Yes, I like the low prices at Wal-Mart, that's why I shop there, but I also can see that I can easily shop sales at other stores, stores which do actually pay their employees enough to live on, besides Wal-Mart's meat is disgusting, their produce is not all that great either, I generally have to go other places anyway.
Now I know I risk sounding like a liberal here, be that as it may, I can assure any that I'm far from it. I don't support pinko commie socialists at all. That doesn't mean that I think Corporations should be able to get over the way they do. There has to be a solution, one that doesn't necessarily involve turning to uncle sam, and regulating the hell out of businesses to the point that they would rather up and move to China then operate here. Besides, most of that regulation really hurts small businesses much more than rich corporations more than likely.
I don't give a flying rat carcass for the silver spoon fed rich. I honestly don't know how those people sleep at night. How does it feel to live so lavishly while one's employees feed from the public trough and live in poverty. I would be so embarrassed. Really.
Whenever talk of raising the minimum wage is raised, business owners are up in arms about how it will ruin their business and so on. Maybe so. I don't claim to know. But I ask myself, seriously, how many freakin' billions is enough for some of these people? Really! Sure, not every business owner is a multi millionaire. Some are just struggling folks who can't live with the idea of being pushed and prodded by human resources, and a plethora of managers anymore.
The bible speaks of this, the scripture has stuck with me, it goes something like this: It's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven. It's not that rich men are bad, or evil, but that I suppose people will do some rather ruthless and greedy things to become rich. Being rich is not what is really important. And not everyone who is rich is ruthless and greedy.
I guess it all boils down to what are we willing to pay for? As a society, it seems we place high dollar value on Hollywood actors, and professional sports players. It really doesn't take any amount of skill to empty a trash can I suppose, although, were there not people willing to do it, I would have to laugh to see some people trying. It does not take a whole lot of skill to stand at a cash register and scan items, push a few buttons and give out proper change, but it's not as easy as it might seem either. Try having a person who hasn't bathed in two days, who smoked a carton of cigarettes, drank a 5th of Jack, who is suffering from serious digestive problems breathing in your face and calling you an idiot for not working fast enough to suit them, it definitely takes a certain amount of determination not to tell that person to immediately go piss in a river.
Many times I have considered what my life would be like if I didn't have my husband, my partner, my rock to get through all of this with me. I chose carefully when it came to marriage. I'm afraid many people do not think ahead. I'm afraid many have been deluded into thinking that single parenthood was a viable option. Of course it can be done, it's not something I would recommend setting out to do on purpose. Sometimes there is no choice, many times hindsight would have been very helpful.
It is no accident that next year my husband and I will claim over $70,000.00 as our income. We made that happen. Perhaps it was just good luck, but we actively pursued our dreams or it wouldn't have happened otherwise. Two years ago we actually claimed just over $10,000 income. We've come a long way since then. That was a really really hard year for us. I honestly don't know how we did it.
We've made a series of choices that have led us to this point. My dad always says people get to where they are by a series of choices that they make. These are the choices we made. We chose to risk comfort for opportunity. We chose to sacrifice time together for advancement. We chose to be humble and ask for help, information and a shot. We choose to be drug free, he drinks a beer here and there, but for the most part we are alcohol free. We both choose to work in physically demanding jobs because they pay the best for the amount of education we have.
Before those choices were made, we chose each other. We each chose a stable partner, with a future. We chose to wait until we were married to have a child. We chose to drive crappy cars that stank because they were affordable. We've made some mistakes. Some real doozies. We've paid for them. We'll make more I'm sure.
I don't know where we'll be tomorrow. Perhaps things could happen to land us at the bottom of the pay scale, making nothing, hoping for something. It could happen. At least we'll have each other.
In my mind, I could still end up making 5.15/hour somewhere. Nothing is promised. I just can't imagine what sort of person would feel comfortable paying their employees a wage like that. They must know they can't barely live on that. I think I'll lay off Wal-Mart shopping for a while. I'm really disgusted with them. We'll see how long that lasts. Freaking Crack-Mart.
p.s. I posted this because I thought it was one of my better posts that wasn't a bunch of ranting and raving about silly stuff. Plus, it's practically new again.
Anything At All.
All I know is that something is wrong. I believe we are a nation in a fair amount of turmoil. We've gone too far. We've become too dependent on the government solving our problems. We don't deal with conflicts amongst ourselves with any bit of fairness or maturity, and the gov is always there to step in and "mediate". Problem is, our gov is made up of people who are not impartial themselves, and who blatantly pursue their own betterment and interests right in front of us.
Today I heard the cashier at Wal-Mart telling the customer in front of me, who appeared to be of some aquaintance, that she only takes home about $200.00 every two weeks. I was appalled. We've all heard tales of how Wal-Mart employees depend on social programs to fill in the gaps, and make up for the low wages they are paid. No one in any city can live on that kind of money. We all know the trick of the trade in which employers hire only "part time" workers so that they can avoid paying out any sort of benefits like health insurance.
I realize some would say, "well, they can look for a better job, they don't have to work there..." and so on. Sure, I can see that I suppose. I know at one point I was so desperate for work I would have skipped with glee if I had a job at Wal-Mart. Here Wal-Mart can hire military wives, retirees, and so on and not have to worry about paying a living wage. Yes, I like the low prices at Wal-Mart, that's why I shop there, but I also can see that I can easily shop sales at other stores, stores which do actually pay their employees enough to live on, besides Wal-Mart's meat is disgusting, their produce is not all that great either, I generally have to go other places anyway.
Now I know I risk sounding like a liberal here, be that as it may, I can assure any that I'm far from it. I don't support pinko commie socialists at all. That doesn't mean that I think Corporations should be able to get over the way they do. There has to be a solution, one that doesn't necessarily involve turning to uncle sam, and regulating the hell out of businesses to the point that they would rather up and move to China then operate here. Besides, most of that regulation really hurts small businesses much more than rich corporations more than likely.
I don't give a flying rat carcass for the silver spoon fed rich. I honestly don't know how those people sleep at night. How does it feel to live so lavishly while one's employees feed from the public trough and live in poverty. I would be so embarrassed. Really.
Whenever talk of raising the minimum wage is raised, business owners are up in arms about how it will ruin their business and so on. Maybe so. I don't claim to know. But I ask myself, seriously, how many freakin' billions is enough for some of these people? Really! Sure, not every business owner is a multi millionaire. Some are just struggling folks who can't live with the idea of being pushed and prodded by human resources, and a plethora of managers anymore.
The bible speaks of this, the scripture has stuck with me, it goes something like this: It's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven. It's not that rich men are bad, or evil, but that I suppose people will do some rather ruthless and greedy things to become rich. Being rich is not what is really important. And not everyone who is rich is ruthless and greedy.
I guess it all boils down to what are we willing to pay for? As a society, it seems we place high dollar value on Hollywood actors, and professional sports players. It really doesn't take any amount of skill to empty a trash can I suppose, although, were there not people willing to do it, I would have to laugh to see some people trying. It does not take a whole lot of skill to stand at a cash register and scan items, push a few buttons and give out proper change, but it's not as easy as it might seem either. Try having a person who hasn't bathed in two days, who smoked a carton of cigarettes, drank a 5th of Jack, who is suffering from serious digestive problems breathing in your face and calling you an idiot for not working fast enough to suit them, it definitely takes a certain amount of determination not to tell that person to immediately go piss in a river.
Many times I have considered what my life would be like if I didn't have my husband, my partner, my rock to get through all of this with me. I chose carefully when it came to marriage. I'm afraid many people do not think ahead. I'm afraid many have been deluded into thinking that single parenthood was a viable option. Of course it can be done, it's not something I would recommend setting out to do on purpose. Sometimes there is no choice, many times hindsight would have been very helpful.
It is no accident that next year my husband and I will claim over $70,000.00 as our income. We made that happen. Perhaps it was just good luck, but we actively pursued our dreams or it wouldn't have happened otherwise. Two years ago we actually claimed just over $10,000 income. We've come a long way since then. That was a really really hard year for us. I honestly don't know how we did it.
We've made a series of choices that have led us to this point. My dad always says people get to where they are by a series of choices that they make. These are the choices we made. We chose to risk comfort for opportunity. We chose to sacrifice time together for advancement. We chose to be humble and ask for help, information and a shot. We choose to be drug free, he drinks a beer here and there, but for the most part we are alcohol free. We both choose to work in physically demanding jobs because they pay the best for the amount of education we have.
Before those choices were made, we chose each other. We each chose a stable partner, with a future. We chose to wait until we were married to have a child. We chose to drive crappy cars that stank because they were affordable. We've made some mistakes. Some real doozies. We've paid for them. We'll make more I'm sure.
I don't know where we'll be tomorrow. Perhaps things could happen to land us at the bottom of the pay scale, making nothing, hoping for something. It could happen. At least we'll have each other.
In my mind, I could still end up making 5.15/hour somewhere. Nothing is promised. I just can't imagine what sort of person would feel comfortable paying their employees a wage like that. They must know they can't barely live on that. I think I'll lay off Wal-Mart shopping for a while. I'm really disgusted with them. We'll see how long that lasts. Freaking Crack-Mart.
p.s. I posted this because I thought it was one of my better posts that wasn't a bunch of ranting and raving about silly stuff. Plus, it's practically new again.
Monday, August 07, 2006
I Was In A Rut
But Now I'm Just Annoyed.
A spider just ran up the screen of the monitor. My two week depression continues. I have had fights with my husband, my brother, my supervisor, my best friend, who is also my hair stylist, two major corporations, and well I've just about had enough. I swear it's not me. I truly believe it is not I with the problem.
The little spider continues to run around the screen, and I have a list of people and things that I am just freakin over. Over I say. Heck I've taken on huge corporations in the past week. I'm over them too. What did I get for my troubles? A bait and a switch and now a stupid dish on top of my house. I feel really suckered on that one.
It was supposed to be some package deal thing. Get the phone, internet and direct t.v. for certain low prices. Sure, I'll try it. Phone got turned on-check. Internet thingy came in the mail-check. Guy came out and installed dish thingy-check. Only after he installed the darn thing in 3 rooms did he come to me with the phone and say, "this lady wants to talk to you."
I answer the phone, and on the other end is a woman with a distintively Indian accent telling me that the package I signed up for is no longer available, and would I like this other package that cost $30 more a month. "Umm, no. I would like the package that was offered to me when I signed up for your junk." Long story short, she refused to honor the deal--after all the stuff had already been installed in, on and atop my house. Not a good start to what is supposed to be a loving relationship if you ask me. What could I do? Well I'll tell you what I could do, instead of yacking with that woman on the phone, I should have been telling the technician to uninstall the stuff, but at that point I hadn't realized just how screwed this company was.
Dumb thing I did was accept the stupid thing. That was a big mistake. I was trying to be nice to the man who was sweating profusely from installing that junk in near 100 degree heat. It wasn't his fault I told myself. Well, I was just plain wrong. Once I realized the bait and switch had happened I should have said, get this shit off my house. The guy leaves, I'm still arguing with the woman on the phone. Finally, I take some other thing which is $48+/month instead of the $39/month they promised me to begin with. Thing is I could have gone with cable. I'm really not this cheap, I swear I'm not, but cable, internet and all these things add up monthly, I was offered a fairly decent deal, which in the end was not honored at all. Dang it, it was the principle of the thing anyway. The whole thing seemed very shady.
Hubby comes home, he goes to install the internet thingy that came in the mail a few days earlier, and after multiple tries is still unable to install the thing. It seems the dish dude had run it through the phone line somehow and that was probably interfering with the internet thingy, but the thing could have been broke even, we don't know, and the phone company told my husband it would be $100 for them to come out and take a look at the thing. Ridiculous. My husband knows his way around a computer well enough to know there was something wrong and it wasn't his installation process.
That was it. And when I say it, I meant it. First I called the dish t.v. people and said, I would like to have this thing uninstalled, and I will no longer be using the service, that I am massively disappointed with the company up to that point, and have decided I would happily do without being ripped off. "We don't uninstall the things ma'am, we just put it up there, you need to go on your roof and figure out how to get the thing down, and what to do with the 300 feet of wires we ran all over the back of your house." At least that's ultimately what they were telling me.
"What do you mean you don't uninstall the thing, how am I supposed to know how to do that? If I knew about all this stuff don't you think I wouldn't have needed a technician to install it. That's the final straw, your company sucks I never want anything to do with direct dish t.v. ever again. Seriously. You all really suck." Which is ultimately what I told them after I asked to speak to a supervisor to voice my concerns, I was summarily disconnected. Yep, hung up on. I called back and was treated sarcastically and rudely by the next person as well, but at least she did cancel the service for me. Yes, the stupid dish thing is still sitting on top of my house. Seriously, how am I to get that thing down?
Well, we will get it down eventually, but it's a shame and a horrible reflection of that company. I will never even consider having one of those things again. Oh, and while I'm at it, I called the stupid phone company who sold me this craptacular package with the direct t.v. and the internet thingy and told them to take their internet and shove it straight up a place that polite people never speak of. They could not understand my disappointment, and that I would be frustrated that they set me up this crappy service, and wanted to charge me $100 to come and fix the junk they sent. The phone lady even threatened me that I was going to have to pay $200 to get out of the "service" to which I laughed and said, "oh yeah right, like hell I am, and go ahead and cancel my phone service too then, I don't need it, I do have 4 cell phones anyway." Somehow she suddenly decided to change the tune and say, "oh, I made a mistake, you won't be billed that $200 because you cancelled within the first 30 days..."
We ended up going with the cable afterall. It's all set up, and I am so glad we did. Yes, it sucks that they put that stupid dish on top of our house and refused to get it down, but at least I'm not paying them any money each month. I'm really not as unhappy and angry as I sound. I swear I'm not. I am however a person who has to be pushed really hard to be made so angry. I'm the type of person who doesn't say anything when my order is screwed up. I just take things as they come. These people pushed me to the point that I want absolutely nothing to do with their companies. I'm so over satellite dishes. And I'm off to bed now. I'm pooped.
A spider just ran up the screen of the monitor. My two week depression continues. I have had fights with my husband, my brother, my supervisor, my best friend, who is also my hair stylist, two major corporations, and well I've just about had enough. I swear it's not me. I truly believe it is not I with the problem.
The little spider continues to run around the screen, and I have a list of people and things that I am just freakin over. Over I say. Heck I've taken on huge corporations in the past week. I'm over them too. What did I get for my troubles? A bait and a switch and now a stupid dish on top of my house. I feel really suckered on that one.
It was supposed to be some package deal thing. Get the phone, internet and direct t.v. for certain low prices. Sure, I'll try it. Phone got turned on-check. Internet thingy came in the mail-check. Guy came out and installed dish thingy-check. Only after he installed the darn thing in 3 rooms did he come to me with the phone and say, "this lady wants to talk to you."
I answer the phone, and on the other end is a woman with a distintively Indian accent telling me that the package I signed up for is no longer available, and would I like this other package that cost $30 more a month. "Umm, no. I would like the package that was offered to me when I signed up for your junk." Long story short, she refused to honor the deal--after all the stuff had already been installed in, on and atop my house. Not a good start to what is supposed to be a loving relationship if you ask me. What could I do? Well I'll tell you what I could do, instead of yacking with that woman on the phone, I should have been telling the technician to uninstall the stuff, but at that point I hadn't realized just how screwed this company was.
Dumb thing I did was accept the stupid thing. That was a big mistake. I was trying to be nice to the man who was sweating profusely from installing that junk in near 100 degree heat. It wasn't his fault I told myself. Well, I was just plain wrong. Once I realized the bait and switch had happened I should have said, get this shit off my house. The guy leaves, I'm still arguing with the woman on the phone. Finally, I take some other thing which is $48+/month instead of the $39/month they promised me to begin with. Thing is I could have gone with cable. I'm really not this cheap, I swear I'm not, but cable, internet and all these things add up monthly, I was offered a fairly decent deal, which in the end was not honored at all. Dang it, it was the principle of the thing anyway. The whole thing seemed very shady.
Hubby comes home, he goes to install the internet thingy that came in the mail a few days earlier, and after multiple tries is still unable to install the thing. It seems the dish dude had run it through the phone line somehow and that was probably interfering with the internet thingy, but the thing could have been broke even, we don't know, and the phone company told my husband it would be $100 for them to come out and take a look at the thing. Ridiculous. My husband knows his way around a computer well enough to know there was something wrong and it wasn't his installation process.
That was it. And when I say it, I meant it. First I called the dish t.v. people and said, I would like to have this thing uninstalled, and I will no longer be using the service, that I am massively disappointed with the company up to that point, and have decided I would happily do without being ripped off. "We don't uninstall the things ma'am, we just put it up there, you need to go on your roof and figure out how to get the thing down, and what to do with the 300 feet of wires we ran all over the back of your house." At least that's ultimately what they were telling me.
"What do you mean you don't uninstall the thing, how am I supposed to know how to do that? If I knew about all this stuff don't you think I wouldn't have needed a technician to install it. That's the final straw, your company sucks I never want anything to do with direct dish t.v. ever again. Seriously. You all really suck." Which is ultimately what I told them after I asked to speak to a supervisor to voice my concerns, I was summarily disconnected. Yep, hung up on. I called back and was treated sarcastically and rudely by the next person as well, but at least she did cancel the service for me. Yes, the stupid dish thing is still sitting on top of my house. Seriously, how am I to get that thing down?
Well, we will get it down eventually, but it's a shame and a horrible reflection of that company. I will never even consider having one of those things again. Oh, and while I'm at it, I called the stupid phone company who sold me this craptacular package with the direct t.v. and the internet thingy and told them to take their internet and shove it straight up a place that polite people never speak of. They could not understand my disappointment, and that I would be frustrated that they set me up this crappy service, and wanted to charge me $100 to come and fix the junk they sent. The phone lady even threatened me that I was going to have to pay $200 to get out of the "service" to which I laughed and said, "oh yeah right, like hell I am, and go ahead and cancel my phone service too then, I don't need it, I do have 4 cell phones anyway." Somehow she suddenly decided to change the tune and say, "oh, I made a mistake, you won't be billed that $200 because you cancelled within the first 30 days..."
We ended up going with the cable afterall. It's all set up, and I am so glad we did. Yes, it sucks that they put that stupid dish on top of our house and refused to get it down, but at least I'm not paying them any money each month. I'm really not as unhappy and angry as I sound. I swear I'm not. I am however a person who has to be pushed really hard to be made so angry. I'm the type of person who doesn't say anything when my order is screwed up. I just take things as they come. These people pushed me to the point that I want absolutely nothing to do with their companies. I'm so over satellite dishes. And I'm off to bed now. I'm pooped.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
I'm Still Here
Update.
Who has time for fancy titles these days? I know I certainly don't. Now that we've moved back into the house we used to rent last year, and we're finally all settled, I thought I would take a moment to put something out there for posterity, or for my two friends who read this here mess.
So we bought the house, we moved back in, and are steadily trying to make the place comfy and cozy. Ten giant bags of lawn cuttings later, our yard is starting to look less like a good hiding place for a herd of antelope, and more like a nice place for our dog to do his business. The weeds have come close to overtaking the place, so hubby is weeding and feeding like crazy hoping to get rid of the EVIL thistle (scroll down to 16 January 1988 to get a clue what we're dealing with here) which I hate and wonder what exactly it's purpose is in the overall scheme of life and the food chain. Believe me, we're going to be talking a lot about thistle, it has spread to all corners of the yard, and it is now our mission in life to destroy it as soon as possible. The stuff is tough, and untouchable by delicate human hands.
I'm still a non-smoker right at 3 months now, but it's been really hard lately with all the stress of moving and things that are happening in my life right now, I wish I had my handy dandy old friend Mister Nicotine to help me through this stress. I don't know how or why, but when I feel stressed the old cravings start to kick in, but I'm not giving up, it's better to crave it once in a while than every 20 minutes of every day. At least that's what I'm telling myself so that I can stay firmly on the wagon. I wish I had something to replace smoking with, but even sitting here blogging makes me want to light up one and puff away. I tried to replace it with beer, a much more socially acceptable drug than smoking cigarettes, but for some reason I find the idea of becoming an alcoholic so late in life a bit dramatic, and really I don't much like the taste of alcohol anyway.
There is of course food as a wonderful alternative to smoking, but I'm pretty much already as addicted to food as I can be, I'm happy to announce that 3 months after quitting smoking I still fit all of my pants, although they are a bit more snug than usual, and one of my buttons did pop off of my work pants, but it also has one of those hook things on it too, so I can still wear them, and they actually feel better now that the button isn't making that indentation in my belly still.
Basically I haven't found a suitable replacement to smoking. I have become quite addicted to going swimming though, I don't know if that is related at all, but just as I suspected being a non smoker is boring as hell. And that pretty much explains why non-smokers are drawn to doing stupid things like climbing mountains, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, and eating boca burgers instead of good old fashioned hamburgers. Smoking used to be fun, and frankly, it was something to do. Now I have nothing to do. Honestly, I've been quite bored as a non-smoker. Either that or there just aren't that many things I would rather do than have a coke and a smoke and a good talk about anything at all.
I guess that's enough of an update for now since I forgot to post this and was off reading blogs and emails and stuff. I will be back soon this time. I actually have access to the net again at my convenience.
Who has time for fancy titles these days? I know I certainly don't. Now that we've moved back into the house we used to rent last year, and we're finally all settled, I thought I would take a moment to put something out there for posterity, or for my two friends who read this here mess.
So we bought the house, we moved back in, and are steadily trying to make the place comfy and cozy. Ten giant bags of lawn cuttings later, our yard is starting to look less like a good hiding place for a herd of antelope, and more like a nice place for our dog to do his business. The weeds have come close to overtaking the place, so hubby is weeding and feeding like crazy hoping to get rid of the EVIL thistle (scroll down to 16 January 1988 to get a clue what we're dealing with here) which I hate and wonder what exactly it's purpose is in the overall scheme of life and the food chain. Believe me, we're going to be talking a lot about thistle, it has spread to all corners of the yard, and it is now our mission in life to destroy it as soon as possible. The stuff is tough, and untouchable by delicate human hands.
I'm still a non-smoker right at 3 months now, but it's been really hard lately with all the stress of moving and things that are happening in my life right now, I wish I had my handy dandy old friend Mister Nicotine to help me through this stress. I don't know how or why, but when I feel stressed the old cravings start to kick in, but I'm not giving up, it's better to crave it once in a while than every 20 minutes of every day. At least that's what I'm telling myself so that I can stay firmly on the wagon. I wish I had something to replace smoking with, but even sitting here blogging makes me want to light up one and puff away. I tried to replace it with beer, a much more socially acceptable drug than smoking cigarettes, but for some reason I find the idea of becoming an alcoholic so late in life a bit dramatic, and really I don't much like the taste of alcohol anyway.
There is of course food as a wonderful alternative to smoking, but I'm pretty much already as addicted to food as I can be, I'm happy to announce that 3 months after quitting smoking I still fit all of my pants, although they are a bit more snug than usual, and one of my buttons did pop off of my work pants, but it also has one of those hook things on it too, so I can still wear them, and they actually feel better now that the button isn't making that indentation in my belly still.
Basically I haven't found a suitable replacement to smoking. I have become quite addicted to going swimming though, I don't know if that is related at all, but just as I suspected being a non smoker is boring as hell. And that pretty much explains why non-smokers are drawn to doing stupid things like climbing mountains, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, and eating boca burgers instead of good old fashioned hamburgers. Smoking used to be fun, and frankly, it was something to do. Now I have nothing to do. Honestly, I've been quite bored as a non-smoker. Either that or there just aren't that many things I would rather do than have a coke and a smoke and a good talk about anything at all.
I guess that's enough of an update for now since I forgot to post this and was off reading blogs and emails and stuff. I will be back soon this time. I actually have access to the net again at my convenience.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Random Observations
And Thoughts.
1. Normal people do not care nor worry about that (P) lame chick, and who exposed her or whatever the heck. Nobody cares. Seriously.
2. I am sick and tired of people who have nothing better to say than, "Bush is an idiot." That's all they say. Wow, great argument there bub. I'm impressed.
3. I hope Israel kicks the crap out of Hezbollah, and the rest of those ankle beating random civilian beheading swine. Pigs. You're not fit to eat after my dog.
4. People who complain about people who complain are hypocrites and usually the biggest complainers of all. Quit yer whining, pussies.
5. My mom's favorite foods to have are chili, soup and pie, she always has at least one of those on hand at all times. My poor dad.
6. Kim jong il.
7. Tired of people who hate America, but won't leave it.
8. France.
1. Normal people do not care nor worry about that (P) lame chick, and who exposed her or whatever the heck. Nobody cares. Seriously.
2. I am sick and tired of people who have nothing better to say than, "Bush is an idiot." That's all they say. Wow, great argument there bub. I'm impressed.
3. I hope Israel kicks the crap out of Hezbollah, and the rest of those ankle beating random civilian beheading swine. Pigs. You're not fit to eat after my dog.
4. People who complain about people who complain are hypocrites and usually the biggest complainers of all. Quit yer whining, pussies.
5. My mom's favorite foods to have are chili, soup and pie, she always has at least one of those on hand at all times. My poor dad.
6. Kim jong il.
7. Tired of people who hate America, but won't leave it.
8. France.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Why?
Must I Suck So Bad?
Seriously. I can never find time to get on here and beat out something witty and smart. These days I spend my time sitting in my friend's hot tub talking about how much better looking Bush is than Kerry. My friend always starts it, she thinks it is funny to get me worked up. She usually starts with something like, "Oh I hope Hillary runs!" And It Is On.
We should be moving next week. I'm beside myself with joy about that idea. It's been too long, I repeat, It's been too long. The last two months I have pretty much woke up every day thinking, "what fresh hell is it today?" That's bad, and let me tell ya, it has been bad, and that's all I'm going to say on it. Just know that the last 8 months have been a sort of hell I wouldn't wish on anyone.
What's new? I think I'm psychic. Yep. Before we settled on this house, we thought about buying quite a nice house near my parents. We actually knew the peeps who used to live there. It was a husband and wife, he was American, retired military and she was a Korean lady he married years ago. My father in law used to be somewhat friends with him, but I heard the old guy was a pervert from a girl I know who his wife babysat years and years ago. Anyway, my husband said he remembered the old guy saying something pretty nasty to him when he was a young teen ager when they went on a fishing trip. Whatever it was, and I know what it was, but it's way too nasty to repeat made my hubby's dad so angry he said, "Get in the car, we're leaving." and they did.
So the old fart had one thing going for him, he took good care of his house, and his Korean lady took good care of him until she got sick with the brain tumor and passed away. She was actually a nice lady, and I often saw her squatting in their perfectly manicured front lawn picking at itty bitty tiny baby weeds before they ever had a chance to grow, or at least I imagined that's what she must have been doing squatting in the yard for so long and so often. He was not all that well when his lady died, he was on oxygen and was not in the greatest of health himself, never the less he did manage to find himself another Korean lady and make her his wife, which was good for her I guess since it cleared up some nasty tangle with immigration. She took over picking at the teeny tiny baby weeds, and my sister remarked one day that he went out and got himself a new Korean lady.
She must have taken good care of him because he left her everything, and that would be fitting since he didn't have any children anyway. So she lives in the house now, but it's for sale. My husband said, "get that house!" It is a nice house, and I thought seriously about getting it, but then I realized that the ironic thing would be that we would spend the next however many years looking out our front window everyday at his first girlfriend's mother's house. I didn't like the idea at all since I really don't want to be friends with her, or have her looking over and seeing me come home with groceries and stuff.
Plus, and I'm serious here, the house had bad energy to me. I thought long and hard because I knew the price was very good with the condition of the house, much nicer than a lot of the houses I've seen in that price range, but something just would not let me make the call even though I promised my husband I would. At first I protested and said, "no, a pervert lived there, I don't want to live in a pervert house, who knows what kind bad stuff lurks there." Hubby thought that was sort of silly, he was thinking purely of the business transaction and not the living in the house. Finally, I agreed to look into it, and make the call while he was away on the rig.
Then I had the dream, the scary one where I'm in the house, and the downstairs is definitely haunted. There was lots of bad stuff in there. I felt it very strongly. The dream was quite disturbing, but I still made the call. I left a message, the lady never called back. Daddy in law decided to sell, and thankfully hubby was interested. He forgot the creepy house. I didn't. I'm so glad the lady never called.
Oh but that is not all. One night I'm driving past the house and I see something strange in the immaculate yard. It's a coat. It's standing up, and in the dark it looks like a body coming out of the ground. It stands there, a lone apparition in the perfect green grass. At first I didn't know what it was, in day light I saw what it was. It still looks strange.
My brother noticed the thing as well. We pondered it for days. We asked everyone else, did you see the weird coat in the yard? Yes, they all had, they all found it odd and out of place. What was ever more bothersome was the thing moved around the yard, and frankly that really freaked me out, didn't the lady know it was there, who was moving it? Finally we decide one night we cannot take it any longer, we've got to walk by the house and see the thing close up, discover some meaning to it. We get the dog, we start our walk. As we approach the yard, Toby is walking along then he spots the inanimate object in the dark, it is crawling out of the ground. Toby stops, he stares, he takes a stance and growls at the coat. Toby backs away, and we continue on, not wanting to draw attention to our curiosity.
We discuss Toby's unusual reaction. We decide the thing freaked him out too. We walk on further and decide to turn around and go back by and see what Toby does a second time around. This time my brother lets go of the leash, we watch and the dog runs up to the thing, sniffs it, and just like that pees on the thing. We didn't mean for him to, but after that we both decide the thing isn't scary anymore, just odd and out of place. In the next day or so the coat was gone. I don't know what happened to it, or why it left after being there for a couple of weeks.
See, I knew there was something wrong with that house. That whole business with the coat was strange, and I knew all along things were not right with that house. The other day I was driving by with my daughter and her friend, and the little girl said, "that house is haunted," just out of the blue. She saw it too. The house is still for sale, the price is quite nice, I don't know why it is still sitting there. Yes, I'm quite aware of how flaky I sound.
I better get to bed. Night.
Seriously. I can never find time to get on here and beat out something witty and smart. These days I spend my time sitting in my friend's hot tub talking about how much better looking Bush is than Kerry. My friend always starts it, she thinks it is funny to get me worked up. She usually starts with something like, "Oh I hope Hillary runs!" And It Is On.
We should be moving next week. I'm beside myself with joy about that idea. It's been too long, I repeat, It's been too long. The last two months I have pretty much woke up every day thinking, "what fresh hell is it today?" That's bad, and let me tell ya, it has been bad, and that's all I'm going to say on it. Just know that the last 8 months have been a sort of hell I wouldn't wish on anyone.
What's new? I think I'm psychic. Yep. Before we settled on this house, we thought about buying quite a nice house near my parents. We actually knew the peeps who used to live there. It was a husband and wife, he was American, retired military and she was a Korean lady he married years ago. My father in law used to be somewhat friends with him, but I heard the old guy was a pervert from a girl I know who his wife babysat years and years ago. Anyway, my husband said he remembered the old guy saying something pretty nasty to him when he was a young teen ager when they went on a fishing trip. Whatever it was, and I know what it was, but it's way too nasty to repeat made my hubby's dad so angry he said, "Get in the car, we're leaving." and they did.
So the old fart had one thing going for him, he took good care of his house, and his Korean lady took good care of him until she got sick with the brain tumor and passed away. She was actually a nice lady, and I often saw her squatting in their perfectly manicured front lawn picking at itty bitty tiny baby weeds before they ever had a chance to grow, or at least I imagined that's what she must have been doing squatting in the yard for so long and so often. He was not all that well when his lady died, he was on oxygen and was not in the greatest of health himself, never the less he did manage to find himself another Korean lady and make her his wife, which was good for her I guess since it cleared up some nasty tangle with immigration. She took over picking at the teeny tiny baby weeds, and my sister remarked one day that he went out and got himself a new Korean lady.
She must have taken good care of him because he left her everything, and that would be fitting since he didn't have any children anyway. So she lives in the house now, but it's for sale. My husband said, "get that house!" It is a nice house, and I thought seriously about getting it, but then I realized that the ironic thing would be that we would spend the next however many years looking out our front window everyday at his first girlfriend's mother's house. I didn't like the idea at all since I really don't want to be friends with her, or have her looking over and seeing me come home with groceries and stuff.
Plus, and I'm serious here, the house had bad energy to me. I thought long and hard because I knew the price was very good with the condition of the house, much nicer than a lot of the houses I've seen in that price range, but something just would not let me make the call even though I promised my husband I would. At first I protested and said, "no, a pervert lived there, I don't want to live in a pervert house, who knows what kind bad stuff lurks there." Hubby thought that was sort of silly, he was thinking purely of the business transaction and not the living in the house. Finally, I agreed to look into it, and make the call while he was away on the rig.
Then I had the dream, the scary one where I'm in the house, and the downstairs is definitely haunted. There was lots of bad stuff in there. I felt it very strongly. The dream was quite disturbing, but I still made the call. I left a message, the lady never called back. Daddy in law decided to sell, and thankfully hubby was interested. He forgot the creepy house. I didn't. I'm so glad the lady never called.
Oh but that is not all. One night I'm driving past the house and I see something strange in the immaculate yard. It's a coat. It's standing up, and in the dark it looks like a body coming out of the ground. It stands there, a lone apparition in the perfect green grass. At first I didn't know what it was, in day light I saw what it was. It still looks strange.
My brother noticed the thing as well. We pondered it for days. We asked everyone else, did you see the weird coat in the yard? Yes, they all had, they all found it odd and out of place. What was ever more bothersome was the thing moved around the yard, and frankly that really freaked me out, didn't the lady know it was there, who was moving it? Finally we decide one night we cannot take it any longer, we've got to walk by the house and see the thing close up, discover some meaning to it. We get the dog, we start our walk. As we approach the yard, Toby is walking along then he spots the inanimate object in the dark, it is crawling out of the ground. Toby stops, he stares, he takes a stance and growls at the coat. Toby backs away, and we continue on, not wanting to draw attention to our curiosity.
We discuss Toby's unusual reaction. We decide the thing freaked him out too. We walk on further and decide to turn around and go back by and see what Toby does a second time around. This time my brother lets go of the leash, we watch and the dog runs up to the thing, sniffs it, and just like that pees on the thing. We didn't mean for him to, but after that we both decide the thing isn't scary anymore, just odd and out of place. In the next day or so the coat was gone. I don't know what happened to it, or why it left after being there for a couple of weeks.
See, I knew there was something wrong with that house. That whole business with the coat was strange, and I knew all along things were not right with that house. The other day I was driving by with my daughter and her friend, and the little girl said, "that house is haunted," just out of the blue. She saw it too. The house is still for sale, the price is quite nice, I don't know why it is still sitting there. Yes, I'm quite aware of how flaky I sound.
I better get to bed. Night.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Have You Heard of the Freegans?
Eat A Bagel.
Recently my friend told me of the freegans, I admit I laughed my ass off when she did. I thought I knew some kooky people, but this is too much. Apparently she read in the newspaper a story of people who live solely off of the things that society throws away, for example, they hang around outside bagel shops and get free food when the bagels are thrown out, etc. Now everywhere we go it's "move it you friggin freegan," this, and "look at this frickin' freegan" that.
I remember as a small child the first time we came to this town on vacation just a year or so before we moved here, we stayed in a little cabin on the west side of town right near the mountain, and I almost embarrassed my parents to death and even risked them being attacked by hippies when I spotted one peeing in the middle of the street and screamed, "Mom! Look! A Hippy is peeing in the street!" It was from that moment on that I held a distrust for hippies, and have viewed them as sort of dirty and strange ever since.
Admittedly these freegans sound much the same to me. I don't trust people who eat other people's garbage. Call me snotty, but it's really only acceptable when one is doing it out of necessity, and with church pantries, and many other such food banks and soup kitchens available, well one must really be in a bad place to rummage through a dumpster for food.
And another thing, I don't trust people who think rubbing certain rocks on their pits is really going to keep them from stinking, but I've actually met people who think that it works. While I'm at it, I'm so freaking over Vegans. Go stuff a turkey with yourself you snotty assholes. I'm not giving up meat. Ever. Shut up about it, and how you "are a vegan for the "right" reasons, unlike those people who do it for religious reasons." Give me a break okay. These are the same people who think nothing of yanking a developing baby from the womb.
Okay, I admit, I am a bit of a freegan in that if I see a nice item on the side of the road with a sign that says, "FREE" on it, I will stop and give it a look see, and maybe even call my husband to come and help me load it up. I got a really nice desk that way, but I draw the line at eating garbage. That's just the thing it's not that it's so wrong to make use of stuff going to the trash, that I can actually respect in a way. It's just that people who usually spend their time doing so are the type to make a habit of rubbing rocks on their pits in lieu of deodorant as well.
Recently my friend told me of the freegans, I admit I laughed my ass off when she did. I thought I knew some kooky people, but this is too much. Apparently she read in the newspaper a story of people who live solely off of the things that society throws away, for example, they hang around outside bagel shops and get free food when the bagels are thrown out, etc. Now everywhere we go it's "move it you friggin freegan," this, and "look at this frickin' freegan" that.
I remember as a small child the first time we came to this town on vacation just a year or so before we moved here, we stayed in a little cabin on the west side of town right near the mountain, and I almost embarrassed my parents to death and even risked them being attacked by hippies when I spotted one peeing in the middle of the street and screamed, "Mom! Look! A Hippy is peeing in the street!" It was from that moment on that I held a distrust for hippies, and have viewed them as sort of dirty and strange ever since.
Admittedly these freegans sound much the same to me. I don't trust people who eat other people's garbage. Call me snotty, but it's really only acceptable when one is doing it out of necessity, and with church pantries, and many other such food banks and soup kitchens available, well one must really be in a bad place to rummage through a dumpster for food.
And another thing, I don't trust people who think rubbing certain rocks on their pits is really going to keep them from stinking, but I've actually met people who think that it works. While I'm at it, I'm so freaking over Vegans. Go stuff a turkey with yourself you snotty assholes. I'm not giving up meat. Ever. Shut up about it, and how you "are a vegan for the "right" reasons, unlike those people who do it for religious reasons." Give me a break okay. These are the same people who think nothing of yanking a developing baby from the womb.
Okay, I admit, I am a bit of a freegan in that if I see a nice item on the side of the road with a sign that says, "FREE" on it, I will stop and give it a look see, and maybe even call my husband to come and help me load it up. I got a really nice desk that way, but I draw the line at eating garbage. That's just the thing it's not that it's so wrong to make use of stuff going to the trash, that I can actually respect in a way. It's just that people who usually spend their time doing so are the type to make a habit of rubbing rocks on their pits in lieu of deodorant as well.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Things To Go
People To Do and Places To See.
Yah. I'll be back dudes. Whenever. Got a lot of stuff to do. Yah, I know, we're all busy, what makes me so special? Sure I know professional bloggers never miss a beat, they are always up with the chickens getting stuff done, but you know popularity has it's price, I'm sure instapundit guy doesn't just slack off whenever he feels like it. Since this site is decidedly not popular, I don't think those rules really apply to me so I'll be back when I darn well feel like it.
About a month ought to do it. By then we should be done signing our life away, moving all of our crap out of storage, putting it back in the house we lived in less than a year ago, and hopefully getting on with our lives quite well. That's some sort of wicked twist of fate or something. Sure buying a house we already lived in sort of takes the excitement out of it in a way, I mean it's sort of like, hey have a look around, oh wait, you've already been over here twenty different times and pretty much nothing has changed. Hey, it's our new house, we already lived in it, but it's new now because we don't pay $800 in rent anymore, now we pay $1150 to a mortgage. What the, are we dumb?
Oh did I tell you? The house we are buying is daddy in law's house, the one we rented from him, well he decided to sell it, and hubby and I decided to buy it. We liked living there, it was a cute little house. I forgot I deleted over a years worth of stuff when I killed the blog in a bout of bipolar disorder, somewhere in all that mess was the story of how daddy in law broke up with his darling German girlfriend who WE adored, and how he decided he wanted his house back, so we obliged and moved out. Now daddy in law is girlfriend less and wants nothing more than to sell his house, so we are going to buy it.
You know that show, what do you get for the money on HGTV? Well, here's what we got, you're going to shit. Now we looked around for months, well I did, hubby basically said "let me know when you narrow the freakin list down a bit, I hate shopping, and you know that." In our price range, 150k there are a lot of fixer uppers, we visited one in the $130k price range and it literally smelled funny, had about 5 different types of carpet in the span of 7 rooms, the siding was melted on the back of the house, and the house was obviously painted by a very sick woman with horrid taste in colors, styles and borders. It was awful, did I mention it smelled?
Then we found out dad in law was selling. Now his is a bit older house, built in the 70s. Here are the selling features of THE house, corner lot, brand spanking new furnace, newer water heater, roof replaced in 1999, fresh paint, newly remodeled bathroom/laundry room, new carpet downstairs, lovely brick patio, three bedroom, two bath tri-level. I just realized I missed my calling as a real estate agent.
The house is cute even if it is really small. It's built well, and has few things wrong with it. It needs some new gutters, or to at least have them fixed/patched. In this drought that's not too much of a big deal, we can do that. The cost is high, but we're not going to find anything better for the price. People are selling stinky houses with absolutely no up keep for 130. Anyway, we're buying it, we like the house, and we enjoyed living in it. We're lucky in a way, most people don't get to live in the house before they buy. We stayed right in our price range of 150, for you nosey peeps who are like, "just tell us how much dang it!"
With that said, I've got a lot of stuff to do in the next few weeks. I'm trying to get stuff ready to move, plus it's summer so we've been going swimming just about every night, and it has always been difficult for me to have time to get on the computer since we moved in with family. I'm just so grateful to my parents for putting up with us the last 8 months, they helped us immensely, even still I can't wait to get the hell out of here we all need our own space, and I'm positive that they can't wait either.
But let me tell you this, I've got such a rant stirring within me about freaking snotty old people. I'm fed up with them. Seriously, it's not enough that we have to fund your freakin retirement as you sit in your paid off houses which were actually affordable, no you have to get annoyed that there are children in the pool, how about showing some respect huh? These kids are going to be paying for your drugs, your monthly social security check, and then some, while you retire in your life of luxury in your paid off affordable house, and with the savings you had from not having to pay 50% or more of your income to taxes your WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. Not to mention all they are going to pay for the rest of society's sponges. Let the kids swim in the pool without you scowling and throwing a tantrum. You owe them.
Yeah. I'll be back.
Yah. I'll be back dudes. Whenever. Got a lot of stuff to do. Yah, I know, we're all busy, what makes me so special? Sure I know professional bloggers never miss a beat, they are always up with the chickens getting stuff done, but you know popularity has it's price, I'm sure instapundit guy doesn't just slack off whenever he feels like it. Since this site is decidedly not popular, I don't think those rules really apply to me so I'll be back when I darn well feel like it.
About a month ought to do it. By then we should be done signing our life away, moving all of our crap out of storage, putting it back in the house we lived in less than a year ago, and hopefully getting on with our lives quite well. That's some sort of wicked twist of fate or something. Sure buying a house we already lived in sort of takes the excitement out of it in a way, I mean it's sort of like, hey have a look around, oh wait, you've already been over here twenty different times and pretty much nothing has changed. Hey, it's our new house, we already lived in it, but it's new now because we don't pay $800 in rent anymore, now we pay $1150 to a mortgage. What the, are we dumb?
Oh did I tell you? The house we are buying is daddy in law's house, the one we rented from him, well he decided to sell it, and hubby and I decided to buy it. We liked living there, it was a cute little house. I forgot I deleted over a years worth of stuff when I killed the blog in a bout of bipolar disorder, somewhere in all that mess was the story of how daddy in law broke up with his darling German girlfriend who WE adored, and how he decided he wanted his house back, so we obliged and moved out. Now daddy in law is girlfriend less and wants nothing more than to sell his house, so we are going to buy it.
You know that show, what do you get for the money on HGTV? Well, here's what we got, you're going to shit. Now we looked around for months, well I did, hubby basically said "let me know when you narrow the freakin list down a bit, I hate shopping, and you know that." In our price range, 150k there are a lot of fixer uppers, we visited one in the $130k price range and it literally smelled funny, had about 5 different types of carpet in the span of 7 rooms, the siding was melted on the back of the house, and the house was obviously painted by a very sick woman with horrid taste in colors, styles and borders. It was awful, did I mention it smelled?
Then we found out dad in law was selling. Now his is a bit older house, built in the 70s. Here are the selling features of THE house, corner lot, brand spanking new furnace, newer water heater, roof replaced in 1999, fresh paint, newly remodeled bathroom/laundry room, new carpet downstairs, lovely brick patio, three bedroom, two bath tri-level. I just realized I missed my calling as a real estate agent.
The house is cute even if it is really small. It's built well, and has few things wrong with it. It needs some new gutters, or to at least have them fixed/patched. In this drought that's not too much of a big deal, we can do that. The cost is high, but we're not going to find anything better for the price. People are selling stinky houses with absolutely no up keep for 130. Anyway, we're buying it, we like the house, and we enjoyed living in it. We're lucky in a way, most people don't get to live in the house before they buy. We stayed right in our price range of 150, for you nosey peeps who are like, "just tell us how much dang it!"
With that said, I've got a lot of stuff to do in the next few weeks. I'm trying to get stuff ready to move, plus it's summer so we've been going swimming just about every night, and it has always been difficult for me to have time to get on the computer since we moved in with family. I'm just so grateful to my parents for putting up with us the last 8 months, they helped us immensely, even still I can't wait to get the hell out of here we all need our own space, and I'm positive that they can't wait either.
But let me tell you this, I've got such a rant stirring within me about freaking snotty old people. I'm fed up with them. Seriously, it's not enough that we have to fund your freakin retirement as you sit in your paid off houses which were actually affordable, no you have to get annoyed that there are children in the pool, how about showing some respect huh? These kids are going to be paying for your drugs, your monthly social security check, and then some, while you retire in your life of luxury in your paid off affordable house, and with the savings you had from not having to pay 50% or more of your income to taxes your WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. Not to mention all they are going to pay for the rest of society's sponges. Let the kids swim in the pool without you scowling and throwing a tantrum. You owe them.
Yeah. I'll be back.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Oh My Gosh
We're Off.
Okay, so in just a few short moments (when I get my butt of this computer) hubby and I are going to meet with a mortgage lady and hopefully after jumping through a series of hoops, and cutting through enormous amounts of red tape, we will--with all of our hair still intact--be getting a house within the next month or so. We actually already know which house, but I'll save that exciting detail for later. I know it's not really exciting to anyone anyway. Ironically, I think it might be more of an irony thing about the house, but I could be wrong. Yeah, I know, I did that.
I'll be back soon. Pray with good news.
Okay, so in just a few short moments (when I get my butt of this computer) hubby and I are going to meet with a mortgage lady and hopefully after jumping through a series of hoops, and cutting through enormous amounts of red tape, we will--with all of our hair still intact--be getting a house within the next month or so. We actually already know which house, but I'll save that exciting detail for later. I know it's not really exciting to anyone anyway. Ironically, I think it might be more of an irony thing about the house, but I could be wrong. Yeah, I know, I did that.
I'll be back soon. Pray with good news.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
One Month
Smoke Free.
I know you insurance spammers who actually leave comments are happy for me. Thanks. Thanks for letting me know I've got the best blog on the web. I'm sorry to say I pretty much despise insurance companies, but at least you visit. I find it rather hilarious actually that my most frequent commenter is an insurance spammer. You would think that I would not even bother, but I am a glutton for embarrassing and humiliating myself. Sure, I still read bloggers who have come to their senses and delinked me. I don't blame certain people for removing the link to my site, I did feel a bit hurt about it, but I'm way too sensitive about things anyway.
I thought it would be fun to write a blog, make friends with people, climb some imaginary ladder of success and be well thought of by people who share the same values, but I was wrong. My motives and my intentions were narcissitic, and ego driven. Writing was one of my favorite tasks in school. I'm not all great at it or anything, but like singing, I enjoy doing it even though I don't necessarily have an aptitude for it. It brings me joy. That's why I'm still putting stuff out there. Other people inspired me to do this, but I continue to do it for me, and I'm thrilled if someone else is moved by anything written here, but other than leaving a comment, I have no way of knowing at all if that is the case.
I know there are a precious few people out there who link to this site, and I'm honestly thankful and happy for them. I do read my handful of favorites whenever I sit down at the computer. I know I should comment more and let them know I do enjoy their efforts, but I do send them happy vibes no matter what.
Well. There it is. I'm a kook.
I know you insurance spammers who actually leave comments are happy for me. Thanks. Thanks for letting me know I've got the best blog on the web. I'm sorry to say I pretty much despise insurance companies, but at least you visit. I find it rather hilarious actually that my most frequent commenter is an insurance spammer. You would think that I would not even bother, but I am a glutton for embarrassing and humiliating myself. Sure, I still read bloggers who have come to their senses and delinked me. I don't blame certain people for removing the link to my site, I did feel a bit hurt about it, but I'm way too sensitive about things anyway.
I thought it would be fun to write a blog, make friends with people, climb some imaginary ladder of success and be well thought of by people who share the same values, but I was wrong. My motives and my intentions were narcissitic, and ego driven. Writing was one of my favorite tasks in school. I'm not all great at it or anything, but like singing, I enjoy doing it even though I don't necessarily have an aptitude for it. It brings me joy. That's why I'm still putting stuff out there. Other people inspired me to do this, but I continue to do it for me, and I'm thrilled if someone else is moved by anything written here, but other than leaving a comment, I have no way of knowing at all if that is the case.
I know there are a precious few people out there who link to this site, and I'm honestly thankful and happy for them. I do read my handful of favorites whenever I sit down at the computer. I know I should comment more and let them know I do enjoy their efforts, but I do send them happy vibes no matter what.
Well. There it is. I'm a kook.
Monday, June 12, 2006
He's Not Bothered In The Least
The Trouble With Birds.
Well, they have brains the size of uncracked sunflower seeds, or at least I imagine so. For the third straight day in a row the birds in the backyard have worked themselves into quite a tizzy. Chasing and dive bombing my sweet dog, they've been making a big old ruckus all around us. I don't know what my dog has done to vex their ire, but they are really ticked at him. It has something to do with babies I guess.
Just a couple of days ago hubby found two dead baby birds in the yard, and one apparently had bite marks on it. Now, we are guessing the dog did not actually climb the tree to get a tasty bird mc nugget out of the spring nests, but that doesn't mean he didn't decide to gnaw the head off of the baby bird that mistakenly fell out of one. Hypocrites! Birds have been known to throw their own offspring right out of the nest, but oh let it happen on accident and somehow their little pea brains can retain a grudge, for at least 3 days so far as I can tell.
I got up bright and early this morning, took a shower, made coffee with the sole intention of sitting on the back porch dreaming of smoking a cigarette--I'm still a humongous quitter by the way, going on 3rd week as we speak--and drinking coffee, my only vice. But no. The dog came out with me, and from then on it was squawk this, squack that, and a bunch of silly birds making a pure nuisance out of themselves, making me wish I owned a pea shooter.
The dog did not seem phased the least little bit, in fact, he pretty much ignored them and carried on marking all of his favorite spots as I sat there sipping my coffee thinking, "oh sheesh, will you silly birds at least be quiet about your dive bombing!" They really hate that dog now.
Then I thought how much my mom hates birds. Now, I actually do like birds even if I shouldn't given my history with them but, I find them quite interesting and could see myself on some sort of bird watching expedition, something my mother would never do, and would only express distaste for. I guess I can't blame her, she was attacked by one afterall. She was just a 9 year old kid when that mean old chicken attacked her. It might have been a rooster, I'm not sure now the details are dodgy. Something about her copping a squat, and a chicken tearing after her. I don't know, but chickens are vile smelly mean birds who deserve to be eaten because they do taste so good.
Of course mom never forgave the chicken, and to this day holds a personal grudge against all birds. I do remember as a child watching her cut up a chicken, she seemed to pretty happy to dip the thing in flour and fry it up. I admit she didn't look at all resentful either when she did it. Even so, she does get very nervous around birds and would prefer they go away all together.
These birds are small, they don't even really make contact, "what could they do to really hurt me?" I wondered. Well, I don't know what my mom has been complaining about, at least she is not a walking target for the darn things. Oh yes, it's a big family joke, I get pooped on all the time by stupid birds. Haha! Look at the drippings in my hair! What are the odds really? Is it just me, or have I been at the unfortunate end of the bird's wrath more times then is fair? I can recall quite clearly at least 3 times I've been hit, and I mean hit. The gooey stuff running down my forehead, and a big clump of it in my hair.
I'd just be innocently playing outside as a child and the critters would poop on me, but the worst was right after we returned from being overseas for 3 years. Even as we flew over the Pacific ocean my husband and I had one restaurant on our minds. They make THE best Mongolian Beef and Sesame Chicken we've ever had, and that includes any we tried in actual Asia. It was the first place we intended to go, and we got all prettied up and headed out. As we got out of the car, we noticed a loud flock of birds making quite a lot of noise in the huge tree outside the restaurant, and sure enough, splat! Right in my hair.
It was one of those where my husband points and laughs, and then sees my face and stops immediately and looks concerned. Our plans would not be ruined. No. "This has happened too many times!'' I declared. "I'm not going to let these stupid birds stop me!" So, we went back to the car, found some tissue, wiped the pooh out of my hair as best we could, and I mean it was some sticky clumpy stuff. I finished the job in the bathroom, and we had our dinner. I may have looked like that chick in Something About Mary, but at least we got our Mongolian Beef. My family just thinks it's so funny that we went on in and ate despite the poop, they don't realize that 3 years was a long time without good American Chinese food.
These birds are really too much. As I sit typing this, they have swooped my cat sitting in the window just trying to enjoy some morning air. Swooped a cat! Now come on. Tell me these critters are smart huh? That's just not real bright. The cat's face read, "oh yeah, come a little closer baby!"
Well, they have brains the size of uncracked sunflower seeds, or at least I imagine so. For the third straight day in a row the birds in the backyard have worked themselves into quite a tizzy. Chasing and dive bombing my sweet dog, they've been making a big old ruckus all around us. I don't know what my dog has done to vex their ire, but they are really ticked at him. It has something to do with babies I guess.
Just a couple of days ago hubby found two dead baby birds in the yard, and one apparently had bite marks on it. Now, we are guessing the dog did not actually climb the tree to get a tasty bird mc nugget out of the spring nests, but that doesn't mean he didn't decide to gnaw the head off of the baby bird that mistakenly fell out of one. Hypocrites! Birds have been known to throw their own offspring right out of the nest, but oh let it happen on accident and somehow their little pea brains can retain a grudge, for at least 3 days so far as I can tell.
I got up bright and early this morning, took a shower, made coffee with the sole intention of sitting on the back porch dreaming of smoking a cigarette--I'm still a humongous quitter by the way, going on 3rd week as we speak--and drinking coffee, my only vice. But no. The dog came out with me, and from then on it was squawk this, squack that, and a bunch of silly birds making a pure nuisance out of themselves, making me wish I owned a pea shooter.
The dog did not seem phased the least little bit, in fact, he pretty much ignored them and carried on marking all of his favorite spots as I sat there sipping my coffee thinking, "oh sheesh, will you silly birds at least be quiet about your dive bombing!" They really hate that dog now.
Then I thought how much my mom hates birds. Now, I actually do like birds even if I shouldn't given my history with them but, I find them quite interesting and could see myself on some sort of bird watching expedition, something my mother would never do, and would only express distaste for. I guess I can't blame her, she was attacked by one afterall. She was just a 9 year old kid when that mean old chicken attacked her. It might have been a rooster, I'm not sure now the details are dodgy. Something about her copping a squat, and a chicken tearing after her. I don't know, but chickens are vile smelly mean birds who deserve to be eaten because they do taste so good.
Of course mom never forgave the chicken, and to this day holds a personal grudge against all birds. I do remember as a child watching her cut up a chicken, she seemed to pretty happy to dip the thing in flour and fry it up. I admit she didn't look at all resentful either when she did it. Even so, she does get very nervous around birds and would prefer they go away all together.
These birds are small, they don't even really make contact, "what could they do to really hurt me?" I wondered. Well, I don't know what my mom has been complaining about, at least she is not a walking target for the darn things. Oh yes, it's a big family joke, I get pooped on all the time by stupid birds. Haha! Look at the drippings in my hair! What are the odds really? Is it just me, or have I been at the unfortunate end of the bird's wrath more times then is fair? I can recall quite clearly at least 3 times I've been hit, and I mean hit. The gooey stuff running down my forehead, and a big clump of it in my hair.
I'd just be innocently playing outside as a child and the critters would poop on me, but the worst was right after we returned from being overseas for 3 years. Even as we flew over the Pacific ocean my husband and I had one restaurant on our minds. They make THE best Mongolian Beef and Sesame Chicken we've ever had, and that includes any we tried in actual Asia. It was the first place we intended to go, and we got all prettied up and headed out. As we got out of the car, we noticed a loud flock of birds making quite a lot of noise in the huge tree outside the restaurant, and sure enough, splat! Right in my hair.
It was one of those where my husband points and laughs, and then sees my face and stops immediately and looks concerned. Our plans would not be ruined. No. "This has happened too many times!'' I declared. "I'm not going to let these stupid birds stop me!" So, we went back to the car, found some tissue, wiped the pooh out of my hair as best we could, and I mean it was some sticky clumpy stuff. I finished the job in the bathroom, and we had our dinner. I may have looked like that chick in Something About Mary, but at least we got our Mongolian Beef. My family just thinks it's so funny that we went on in and ate despite the poop, they don't realize that 3 years was a long time without good American Chinese food.
These birds are really too much. As I sit typing this, they have swooped my cat sitting in the window just trying to enjoy some morning air. Swooped a cat! Now come on. Tell me these critters are smart huh? That's just not real bright. The cat's face read, "oh yeah, come a little closer baby!"
Monday, June 05, 2006
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