Observation Habits

Chowhound and I walked to the store yesterday. As we passed one convenience, he commented that that store has 14 security cameras.

"Excuse me", I said. "Just exactly why do you know this?"

"It's just a habit of mine." was his excuse.

Throughout our 2 mile walk I found out that his school has 3 security cameras outside and several more inside. Another convenience store has 10. And the particular store we were headed towards has Zero. He apparently scopes them out wherever he goes. I hope it's just out of curiosity and not because he is doing anything wrong.

I've am the most unobservant person around. I have never noticed any cameras. Then, again, I'm not looking.

Does anyone else do this? Is this normal or should I be worried that he is up to no good?

E-Harmony Experience-Part I

Patriot Xeno (Co-Partner) of the RHOG is posting about his E-Harmony matches (Part I, II, III). It is interesting to see what he picks out of each persons profile and responses. It is the little things that usually make or break a relationship.

A little over two years ago, I was fiddling around on the computer and watching TV when an E-Harmony commercial came on. They were promoting their "free $40 profile". I had been abruptly dumped several months earlier from a three year relationship. I was still in the "what's wrong with me stage". I do not have a good track record with relationships. So, I took their free profile to see what was wrong with me and what I needed to change. I was so tired of failed relationships. I wasn't actually interested in starting one. The profile was pretty accurate. It told me what I already knew but didn't want to admit to myself. I need to be more assertive. I was impressed by the thoroughness and correctness of the profile.

Then, they started sending me matches. It was interesting browsing through the different people they thought I would be compatible with. I was surprised by things that stuck out and told me immediately that I wasn't interested in someone. At this point, I was just browsing and not signed up. You have to pay the fee in order to respond. After about a month or so I was intrigued by a couple of people and decided what the hell after debating with myself for a while. I still really didn't want a relationship and didn't know why I was compelled to do this. But, I signed up. I figured I hadn't been doing so hot at choosing the right person maybe they would be better at it than I was.
E-Harmony is set up in stages. Each person has the option of ending at any stage. Initially, you are sent a brief bio of the person. The person has the option of making their photo and profile available immediately or later at any stage. I did not respond to any that did not show me a photo. Yes, I'm a bit shallow and vain. I feel physical attraction is very important. It's not the most important thing, but it's up there.

If I remember correctly, the first stage was must haves and must not have. Each person chooses from a pre-made list of numerous choices and presents 10 of each that they feel are important. I culled out the stack even more and was culled a few times myself. The next stage was closed-ended questions. They offer different questions with multiple choice answers. You are able to put in your own answer if you don't agree with any of theirs. I remember one in particular that I was able to eliminate with this stage. I submitted one question that said something like, "Which one would bother you the most? If you partner ... (a) used improper grammar (b) was not up to date on politics (c) didn't keep up with current events, or (d) all of the above" He chose (d). Whoop-wrong answer, he was gone. I know how to speak properly, I just chose to be myself. I can barely keep up with my own life nevermind trying to keep up with events and politics.

Then, came the open-ended questions. Once again they offer a list of questions but they require more than a yes or no answer. You have a word limit I think. I eliminated a few based on the questions they asked not by their questions. Easy to spot the perverts here.

If you made it through all these stages then you could start e-mailing through e-harmony's site. Everything is confidential and guided up to this point. I only corresponded with a few of my matches. One e-mailed me and told me on the weekends he didn't have his son (every other weekend), I could find him at such and such bar. If I wanted to meet him I could go there. Nope. No thanks. Another match just sent one or two words at a time. Boring, no initiative. Delete. Then, one intrigued me the entire way. He is the only one I actually made a date with. More details coming in Part II.

Overall, I was surprised by E-Harmony. I was very doubtful to begin with. Now, I would be willing to do a commercial for them.

I hope Patriot Xeno has as great an experience as I have had. I definitely recommend it.

*Note: I may have gotten some stages in the wrong order. I am doing this with a 2 year old recollection of events. Follow what Patriot Xeno has written. He is is correct. I was just trying to explain how the service worked for those not familar with E-Harmony's process. This is just my introduction into my experience.

Sister Tag

My new sister, Tink, has tagged me with a meme. Do you think I'll get in trouble with "Mom" if I beat her up?

5 things in my fridge:
*nothing
*nothing
*nothing
*nothing
*nothing-just ask my children

5 items in my closet:
*dresses I don't wear
*clothes that don't fit (the clothes I wear are in laundry baskets-they're clean. It's just easier to find them that way)
*heels that I don't wear
*A formal china place setting for two that my mother gave me as a wedding present when I married ex#1. I have been hauling it around for 20 something years waiting for someone special to have a candlelight dinner with.
*a set of engraved silverware my Grandmother gave to me for my boys. They will each get a set of four. I was the only one who married someone with the same last initial. The silverware is over 70 years old.

5 items in my purse:
*palm pilot
*Aleve 200 count--I'm going to be prepared no fooling around with pain
*cocoa butter hand cream
*scrunchie-always need an extra on hand
*unmentionables

5 items in my car:
*hard hat
*steel toed boots
*safety harness
*safety glasses
*rope
(Doesn't every girl carry those kinds of things in her car? I live in Florida. This is my hurricane preparedness kit. ;)

5 people to annoy:
I think everyone has done this already, so volunteers are welcome.

Out of the mouths of babes

I sent a good friend of mine the link to Bou's post on her boys version of the male antomy. She sent me the following story about the talk she had with her 8 year old daughter, "K". I asked her permission to reprint this. I just had to share it. It reminded me of the conversation I had last year with my boys.

I am right there with her, "K" had a "secret touching" talk
with me last night that included WHY it is important not to let
someone touch your body or hurt it cause (among a bunch of other
reasons) that it is special and when you are a grownup you get to
decide who you get to share these parts with (this was the book talking not me, LOL)...

So, "K", when getting to that part sits back, looks
straight at me and cocks her head giving me 'a look' and says, Mommm, you don't do that do you??? *OHMYGOODLLORDDD*, "Well, uh, yeah, that's how babies are made". and "K": "you talk to dad about your Boobies, oh Gross mom". (What is she gonna think when she actually figures out what "sharing" means??????).

LMAO!!! I was completely embarrassed, BUT I pulled through like a trooper and continued on with the book.

THEN, as we end the book I asked her if she understood why it was
important to never let anyone touch her without permission and how it
could hurt her etc.. etc... and she, said "Oh yeah mom, don't worry I
wouldn't let Anyone hurt my special parts, I like touching them
myself'.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GOOD LORDD.. can I just stop
at 8??? I don't want anymore, This child gives New meaning to TMI !!!!

You just gotta love the honesty of children.

Ahhhhhhhh Silent Summer Mornings

Today is the first day of Summer Vacation. My wonderful mornings begin. No has to be woken up and proded out of bed. No morning debates between brothers. No sidestepping and running into each other. Just sweet silent mornings to do as I wish. I love this time of year.

Personal Crap

I sit here and try to force the thoughts from my head down through my fingers. I type. Read. Delete. Repeat. As the words travel from my brain they just seem to be drowned out by emotions. They push on the back of my eyes trying to escape. Everything I think and feel evaporates before it becomes type. The words on the paper do not reflect the emotions I feel.
I prowl through other peoples thoughts. Reading their trials and tribulations, the pain and heartache. The joy and exuberance. I don't seem to be able to convey mine for the most part.
I write about events. I don't write how I feel. It's overwhelming. But, I guess life is that way too. Sometimes, you just have to push and push and push even when you don't feel like it. When you're scared you have to force courage and smile.
As I read back over what I have written, I can tell when my wall comes up. I start substituting YOU when it is I.
I am scared. I am alone. This is the first time I have felt this way in a really, really long time. My life right now is set up the way I choose it. And I have no regrets. This is the time in my life where my boys and myself come first. I have always lived for whatever relationship I was in. The world revolved around my "man". Everything to make sure no eggshells were cracked, no feathers were ruffled. A picture perfect world that always seemed to crumble around me.
I have a man in my life right now. Someone who has given me an opportunity to put myself and my kids first. It isn't difficult to love him. He makes it so easy. So right.
So, why do I say I am alone and scared. He is 600 miles and an ocean away. So, although he is a tremendous part of my life, he isn't in my life on a daily basis. Also, my family is over 300 miles away. Phone calls, Internet, the miraculous technology of our world helps me stay close.
But, the other week, it really hit me on how alone I am. I have been having some physical issues with my health. I detest going to the doctors so I know I am in some serious pain and concern when I go. Well, I was out shopping getting ready to head south to see my sweetie, when I began hurting in my back and abdomen and my legs began going numb. I was alone speeding down the interstate in tears debating on going to the emergency room. I realized, that other than my boys, I had no one here locally to call.
I am not a very social person. I take my time to get to know a person. Most people don't take the time to get to know me. Those that do are friends for life. I am lucky in that I have quite a few close and personal friends. I don't have many acquaintances. Unfortunately, my friends are all a long distance call away. As is my Sweetie.
Like I said most of the time I'm ok with it. This is the life I have made and I have chosen. I have some personal goals that I want to accomplish and this is my time to do them.
Reality just sank in that night and hit me like a ton of bricks. I drove and cussed at myself. Yelling and screaming my fears and frustrations away.
The doctor is running test. They can find nothing wrong. I know this is not in my head. I know what will happen. I will get tired of normal test results. I will feel like I'm wasting my time. I will quit going to the doctors. I will feel better for a while. I will breathe. Then it will start all over again.

Knock you naked....

BROWNIES! Get your mind out of the gutter. That is the name of my carnival of recipes entry. I found these on the internet and they are wonderful. It's about the only thing I get asked to make over and over.

Knock you Naked Brownies

1 package German chocolate cake mix (18.5 oz)
1 cup chopped nuts
1/3 cup + 1/2 cup evaporated milk-divided
1/2 cup melted butter
60 vanilla caramels unwrapped (one 14 oz package)
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips

In a large mixing bowl, combine dry cake mix, nuts, 1/3 cup evaporated milk and melted butter. Press half of the batter into the bottom of a greased 13x9x2 inch glass baking dish.

Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for eight minutes. In the microwave or top of a double boiler melt caramels with remaining 1/2 cup evaporated milk.
When caramel mixture is well mixed, pour over baked layer. Cover with chocolate chips.

Chill for about an hour or until the caramel is hard. Press the remaining batter on top of morsels. Return to oven and bake 28 minutes (or less for gooier brownies). Let cool before cutting.

I hope you enjoy them.

It's a Sister!

I'm a big sister! I am so excited. But, my blogmom, VWBug, didn't send me to big sister classes so I'll just have to wing it. Everyone, please welcome Tink of Tink's Tribulation.

Tink is in real life VW's big sister. But, here in this twisted like a ficus tree bad example family Tink is VW's daughter. So, VW can proudly exclaim that she is her sister's mother. That is just so messed up.

Go over and Welcome her to our family.

Hiding Places

When my world is chaotic and I'm overwhelmed I retreat to the Islands.

I should have tried this

Now, I get this in an e-mail. If I had tried this last week I might have some of my mind left. I'm going out now to find some phone numbers.
_________________________


When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know. I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?" Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an asshole!"and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!" That always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from Verizon. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!" One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored ! me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back windowwhich included his phone number, so I wrote down the number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (Ihad his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is", he said

"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked. "Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front." "What's your name?" I asked. "My name is Don Hansen," he said. "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" "I'm home every evening after five." "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?" "Yes?" "Don, you're an asshole!" Then I hung up, and added his ! number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. Then I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1. "Hello." "You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.) "Are you still there?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. "Stop calling me," he screamed. "Make me," I said. "Who are you?" he asked. "My name is Don Hansen." "Yeah? Where do you live?" "Asshole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front." He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers." I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up. Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello?"! he said. "Hello, asshole," I said. He yelled, "If I eve r find out who you are..." "You'll what?" I said. "I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed. I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now." Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there tokill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse. I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other infront of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew. NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works.

Happy Birthday Improviser

In the midst of all the chaos lately there was a birthday. A very important one. It was not overlooked just not advertised. Improviser is no longer a teenager. This is a major milestone for me. My oldest is 20. Oh, it is so hard to believe.

As I look back on the last 20 something years, I think about how much my life changed with him. I was 20 and scheduled to go to Air Force bootcamp. One night of pleasure changed my life's direction forever. I love him dearly so there are no regrets.

Improviser has taught me so much. I have learned...

...that after spending 33 days in a hospital bed waiting for a stubborn child to enter the world you need a u-haul to take everything home.

...that a baby can scream for 22 hours a day if they have colic. The other two hours they sleep. Five minutes at a time. That's how long the baby swing rocks. They weren't battery operated then. You had to crank them.

...that when everyone gives you advice get details. A baby should not have cereal in every bottle every day.

...that when the car or the swing stops the baby will start screaming again.

...all the roads in my hometown.

...a hot, screaming baby who only sleeps in the car will convince you to trade the Sporty Camero with no AC for a four door family car with AC.

...that the best flowers are the ones with roots and dirt and most people call weeds.

...a toddler will not share his toys but will share the mushy cookie in his mouth.

...that if a child watches Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles a 100 times or more they will make turtle faces for school pictures.

...that when you are awakened at 2 am by rolling over on a cold pack of ham it means Improviser is up.

...that the urge to choke a child at 2am is suppressed by his smile as he offers you some of the "cake" he is making in the middle of the kitchen floor using a dozen and half eggs, milk, chocolate and who knows what else.

...that it takes 2 bottles of nail polish remover to remove the red nail polish from the bathtub and your two brothers.

...that the pre-K teacher will laugh hysterically when you request they not show 4 year olds how to use food coloring anymore.

He also taught me the meaning of unconditional love. Patience. Tolerance. And so much more.

Happy Birthday Improviser. You have become a handsome, wonderful young man. I am very proud of you.

Drowning in Blog Fodder

While pursuing through the blogdom I've noticed a trend. There tend to be two types of entries. There are days that aren't worth blogging about, but "we" do anyhow and then there are days that cute little things happen that people want to blog about immediately. But. I. have. teenagers.! So neither of those apply. At least not for the last couple of weeks. I have been drowning in blog fodder that requires tranquilizers. And since I don't drink or do drugs beating my head against the wall until unconsciousness was the only option.

VWBug recently asked what song do you sing. Immediately these lyrics popped into my head, "They're coming to take me away. Ha Ha. They're coming to take me away. He He." Oh, how I wish the men in the crisp white coats would come knocking. Where's a good man when you need him?

I have attempted self-medication lately. My preferred poison is hot baths, Stephanie Plum exploits (because she so reminds me of myself) and generally ignoring everything and everyone. I deal with reality by retreating from it. This approach generally works for a while. I regain my mental strength. Calm my nerves. And simply amaze myself that I have not killed anyone. Yet. Things seem to be calm for a minute.

I will slowly post on the events as they slip back into my consciousness. I'm great at repression and even better at just plain forgetting crap so it will not at all represent the chaos in this castle lately.

Blog Fodder coming forthwith

I've had interesting blog fodder lately; I've just been too tired to write it up. Too much OT kills the creativity.

A Thousand Words

plus the disclaimer: I DID NOT DRESS THIS KID!

Desperately Seeking Starbucks

More here.

78 Ways to know if you drink too much coffee...

You answer the door before people knock.
Juan Valdez named his donkey after you.
The only kitchen appliances you own are made by Mr. Coffee.
You ski uphill.
You get a tax cut for all the coffee you bought.
You get a speeding ticket even when you're parked.
You speed walk in your sleep.
You have a bumper sticker that says: "Coffee drinkers are good in the sack."
You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
You just completed another sweater and you don't know how to knit.
You grind your coffee beans in your mouth.
The nurse needs a scientific calculator to take your pulse.
You sleep with your eyes open.
When you open your dish cabinet, and there is only mugs.
You have to watch videos in fast-forward.
The only time you're standing still is during an earthquake.
You can take a picture of yourself from ten feet away without using the timer.
You lick your coffeepot clean.
You spend every vacation visiting "Maxwell House."
You're the employee of the month at the local coffeehouse and you don't even work there.
You've worn out your third pair of tennis shoes this week.
Your eyes stay open when you sneeze.
Your coffee cake, must have coffee in it.
You chew on other people's fingernails.
Your T-shirt says, "Decaffeinated coffee is the devil's blend."
You're so jittery that people use your hands to blend their margaritas.
You can type sixty words per minute... with your feet.
The only gift you get for Valentines Day you get chocolate covered beans.
You can jump-start your car without cables.
All your kids are named "Joe".
Your only source of nutrition comes from "Sweet & Low."
You don't sweat, you percolate.
You buy 1/2 & 1/2 by the barrel.
You've worn out the handle on your favorite mug.
You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee.
You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.
You forget to unwrap candy bars before eating them.
Charles Manson thinks you need to calm down.
Every shirt or blouse you own has a coffee stain on it.
You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers.
People get dizzy just watching you.
You've worn the finish off your coffee table.
The Taster's Choice couple wants to adopt you.
Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house.
You're so wired, you pick up AM radio and people test their batteries in your ears.
Your life's goal is to amount to a hill of beans.
Instant coffee takes too long.
When someone says. "How are you?", you say, "Good to the last drop."
You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can.
You want to come back as a coffee mug in your next life.
Your birthday is a national holiday in Brazil.
Your hand is permanently shaped to hold your mug.
You'd be willing to spend time in a Turkish prison.
You go to sleep just so you can wake up and smell the coffee.
You're offended when people use the word "brew" to mean beer.
You name your cats "Cream" and "Sugar."
You get drunk just so you can sober up.
You speak perfect Arabic without ever taking a lesson.
Your lips are permanently stuck in the sipping position.
You have a picture of your coffee mug on your coffee mug.
You can outlast the Energizer bunny.
You can jump to the moon.
You short out motion detectors.
You have a conniption over spilled milk.
You don't even wait for the water to boil anymore.
Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale.
You think being called a "drip" is a compliment.
You don't tan, you roast.
You don't get mad, you get steamed.
Your three favorite things in life are...coffee before, coffee during and coffee after.
Your lover uses soft lights, romantic music, and a glass of iced coffee to get you in the mood.
You can't even remember your second cup.
You help your dog chase its tail.
You soak your dentures in coffee overnight.
Your coffee mug is insured by Lloyds of London.
You introduce your spouse as your coffeemate.
You think CPR stands for "Coffee Provides Resuscitation."
Your first-aid kit contains two pints of coffee with an I.V. hookup.

Nothing Much

I have a lot to say, but don't feel like writing. Maybe tomorrow.

Yeah! I did it.

I made a few changes. I'm so proud. I did it all by myself. I still have a few bugs to work out. I want that broken line under the comments instead of over it. But, I will work on that later. I'm tired and it's way past my bedtime.

Blogsitting

Richmond and I are blogsitting for VWBug while she is playing in the Mouse House and Fish Tank.

So, I'm hanging out over there since the eight people that read my blog are out of town this weekend partying either in Texas or Florida.

Warped Reality

Somebody shrank all my clothes. I bet it was that bloated, evil woman with homicidal thoughts staring at me in the mirror this morning. Gott I hate her.

Ouch, I tagged Myself.

I found this Meme at Richmonds and tagged myself. Because I'm vain and had nothing else to talk about.

1. Were you named after anyone?Yes, but unintentionally, at least on my mother's part. My mother intended on naming me Suzanne Marie. When she woke up several days after a very rough c-section, she found out my father had named me after her. Well, first name only. Where my middle name came from one can only guess. She said she was soooooooo mad at him. She found out when the nurse brought her the birth certificate to sign.

2. Do you wish on stars?Absolutely, but I think they are someone else's.

3. Do you like your hand writing?When I take my time.

4. What is your favorite meat?Seafood. Any kind. Cooked anyway.

5. What is the most embarrassing CD on your shelf?CD? No, folks, it's a cassette. Disney's Little Mermaid and Friends. I don't even know where it came from or why I still have it. I have all boys. This just doesn't fit.

6. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?Definitely. I am a great friend to have.

7. Are you a daredevil?If taking calculated risks count. And it doesn't involve heights, fast drops or going upside down.

8. When was the last time you cried?Full on boo-hooing?? When my best friend died in February. The little pools behind the eyes? Once a month.

9. Did you ever tell a secret you weren't supposed to?Depends on your point of view. I didn't know it was supposed to be a secret. I thought it was just a fact. Evidently, she didn't see it that way. Opps.

10. How do you release anger?Go on longs walks by myself and rant and rave like a lunatic. After that, I can be rational and discuss things.

11. Where is your second home?In the Bahamas with my Sweetie.

12. Do you trust others easily?Yes and no. I give people the benefit of the doubt but I will take a while to get to know you on a personal level. Therefore, I have long and dear friends but not many acquaintances.

13. What class in college do you think is totally useless?I have found that I use most of them as I gravitate through my life. I just wish I could remember the details. I'll encounter a situation and go, "Oh, yeah. I remember something about that."

14. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?No. And for the love of Mike, why would you ever?

15. What do you look for in a guy?Someone kind and considerate. Honest. Affectionate. And has a great laugh.

16. Would you do a bungee jump?Not a chance.

17. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?Turtle Tracks.

18. What is your least favorite thing?Mosquitoes.

19. How many people do you have a crush on right now?Just my Sweetie. And of course my 3 boys. But, that's a given.

20. What do you miss most right now?Daily companionship. My Sweetie and I have a long distance relationship right now. We only spend time with each other every couple of months. This is just how things have to be right now and I accept that and usually it doesn't bother me. But, after spending time with him, I miss the little things. Drinking coffee and reading the paper together. Evening walks and holding hands. Those sort of things. The distance is temporary so I can handle it.

21. What are you listening to right now?One of my best friends. She's on the phone rambling and rambling. I don't get to talk much but that's okay. Love ya Linnaya :)

22. What is the weather like right now?Sunny and 85. Gorgeous!

23. Last person you talked to on the phone?See #21. She laughed when I told her what I wrote.

24. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?Depends. Is he walking towards me or away from me?

25.Favorite drink non-alcoholic?Virgin Strawberry daiquiris.

26.Favorite alcoholic drink?I haven't had a drink in two years.

27. Haircolor?Blonde (Though it is getting darker as I get older...) And now, it's getting lighter thanks to Ms. Clairol.

28. Eyecolor?Blue

29. Wear contacts?No. I should wear glasses all the time except for reading. But, I usually don't. You really don't want to be on the road with me. I have limited depth perception.

30. Last movie you watched?Flight Plan.

31. Favorite day of the year?My Birthday. Because it's my day!

32. How many people have a crush on you right now?The only one that counts is my Sweetie.

33. Scary movies or happy endings?Happy endings. I am a sap, and an optimist. And I just can't do scary movies (nor do I want to).

34. Summer or winter?Spring, Summer, Fall. Winter, sucks. And I live in Florida. You people up North are nuts.

35. What book/magazine are you reading at the moment?Fundamentals of Inventory Management and Control. Sounds fun, huh?!

36. What's on your mouse pad?Water ripples.

37. What did you watch on TV last night?Nothing. There's never anything on.

37.Favorite Smell?Fresh, clean, pillow cases. Walking pass The Yankee Candle. Driving pass The Maxwell House Plant.

38. Do you regret ever breaking up with someone?I regret that I broke someone's heart. But, I don't regret moving on. We just weren't in the same place at the same time and probably never would have been.

39.Favorite actor/actress?I don't really have a favorite.

Not ready to say Goodbye

I did a quick trip home to P'cola this weekend. My first time home since my best friend, Dawn, died in February. I had time and intentions to visit her gravesite. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't able to attend the funeral so going to her gravesite will make it final in my mind. I guess. I don't know. I just know I couldn't do it. I didn't call her family or anything. It was hard enough not picking up the phone and calling her the second I got in. Maybe next time I'll be able to do it. Now evidently just isn't the time.

Seasons of Love and the Sound of Music

Seasons of Love (from the musical RENT)


Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?

How about love?
How about love?
How about love? Measure in love

Seasons of love. Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned,
Or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned,
Or the way that she died.

It's time now to sing out,
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends
Remember the love!
Remember the love!
Seasons of love!

Oh you got to got to Remember the love! remember the love,
You Measure in love know that love is a gift from up above Seasons of love.
Share love, give love spread love Measure measure you life in love.
______________________________

I love this song. Absolutely love it! I heard it for the first time tonight. Our School chorus sang it. Our music director presented it to them two days ago. Just two days ago. I can't remember a song if I hear it for two months let only two days. I was impressed. Beautiful voices. They will sing this for Graduation. What a group of kids. These boys and girls range in age from 11 to 18. Yes, we are a combined middle/senior high school. Not only are some of them very young, our Chorus program is small and our band director is now teaching the Chorus because of cutbacks. I don't think he ever sees his own wife and kids because he is always with ours. I was so proud of this Chorus and I don't even have kids in it. Mine can't sing. That's why they're in the band.

This was part of our annual Spring Concert. This is a time for parents to see why they have sacrificed all their hard earned money and eardrums. The beginning band played the standard Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, Go Tell Aunt Rhodie and Kookaburra.

This took me back to Chowhound's beginning year. He started in music in the 5th grade. It was the first and last year they had a music program at that Elementary School. I have MTV to thank for directing Chowhound into music. They gave a one year grant for a teacher and instruments to the elementary school. Unfortunately, further funding wasn't available and the instructor was let go and the instruments donated to the Middle/Senior High School. But, the music bug had bitten Chowhound and his soul was infected with the sweet rhythm. At age ten, he began playing the Tenor Sax. That was the instrument he chose. He later confessed that he didn't know the names of the instruments and what he really wanted to play was the Tuba. This was fate. I love the sax and am sooooooooo glad I didn't have to listen to a beginning Tuba player. It was bad enough when he started, it sounded like a cruise ship departing. His brothers ran around yelling, "All Aboard!".

It's hard to believe he has been doing this for six years now. Tonight he played the bass clarinet for the High School Band Selections. Then he played his Sax for the Jazz Band performance. They played My Funny Valentine and 25 or 6 to 4. I didn't recognize the last song until they played. Then it was like, Hey! That's Chicago! Wow, I love it when I recognize the songs. Chowhound played a solo on the Sax. I was so proud.

I only thought I was beaming. Then, he played his solo on the MarimbaHe played Yellow after the Rain. Last month, he performed this for the state competition and received an excellent. It was the first time he had ever gone to State. As he was walking up on stage, the woman sitting next to me commented to her husband, "What a handsome young man he is." I about came out of my chair with excitement going "THAT'S MY SON!" She gave me that look like ok lady, settle down. I think she even scooted her chair further from mine.

It was great night. Unfortunately, Daredevil had to work so he didn't get to perform tonight. He plays anything they let him beat on. But, he is headed to Tallahassee in the morning for the Regional Track competition. He is pumped about it. I wish I could be there to watch but Improviser and I are headed to Pensacola to pick up his car he is buying from his Grandmother. Then, Sunday Chowhound is performing at one of the Universities here. Busy, busy weekend.

Job Opening

Position: Mother, Mom, Mama, Mommy

Job Description: Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work in an, often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities. Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.

Responsibilities: The rest of your life. Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5. Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly. Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks. Must be willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next. Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices. Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product. Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.

Possibility For Advancement & Promotion: Virtually none. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you.

Previous Experience: None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

Wages And Compensation: Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and then wish you could only do more.

Benefits: While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth and free hugs for life if you play your cards right.

Incredible Photos

If you haven't been over to look at the Photographs of the Year International yet and viewed their Winner's Gallery you really should. There are some awesome photos there.

This is the First Place Winner in Newspaper Division for General News Reporting.

First Place Todd Heisler The Rocky Mountain News

When 2nd Lt. James Cathey's body arrived at the Reno Airport, Marines climbed into the cargo hold of the plane and draped the flag over his casket as passengers watched the family gather on the tarmac. During the arrival of another Marine's casket last year at Denver International Airport, Major Steve Beck described the scene as one of the most powerful in the process: "See the people in the windows? They'll sit right there in the plane, watching those Marines. You gotta wonder what's going through their minds, knowing that they're on the plane that brought him home," he said. "They're going to remember being on that plane for the rest of their lives. They're going to remember bringing that Marine home. And they should."

This is the second place winner in the same category:

Second Place Todd Heisler The Rocky Mountain News

The night before the burial of her husband's body, Katherine Cathey refused to leave the casket, asking to sleep next to his body for the last time. The Marines made a bed for her, tucking in the sheets below the flag. Before she fell asleep, she opened her laptop computer and played songs that reminded her of 'Cat,' and one of the Marines asked if she wanted them to continue standing watch as she slept. "I think it would be kind of nice if you kept doing it," she said. "I think that's what he would have wanted."

I was overwhelmed when I saw these photographs. A personal glimpse into the lives of those protecting our freedom and what they have endured and sacrificed. It really makes it hit home.

Who do you look like?

Ever wonder which celebrity you look like? Me neither. But, actually this was fun. Hat tip to Sadie and Oddybobo for providing the link to My Heritage. Down load a photo and it scans it and compares it to a celebrity database.

My results were interesting. I actually did three different photos to see if I had the same results in any of them. Nope. Not once. Once it scans the pictures, it presents you with male and female celebrities. There was a huge difference in my look alikes there.

Here's what I got:

In the female category:

Photo 1:
53% Nancy Sinatra
48% Elle Macpherson

Photo 2:
55% Sally Field
54% Reese Witherspoon
52% Britney Spears

Photo 3:
I only had 2 female matches. One was an older lady and the other was an African-American. I must have had a bad hair day and wasn't photogenic this day.

In the male category I got
67% Gordon Cooper
64% George W. Bush
54% Lee Harvey Oswald
53% Gene Hackman

I am so glad I was born female.

My Sweetie was 60% Tom Selleck and 59% John Travolta.

Who do you look like?

Get Well Soon my Little Rue

My sweet little Bahama Mama Rue was attacked by another dog today (she lives in the Bahamas with my Sweetie). She is home and recovering. She needed stitches in four different places (puncture wounds). Poor little cutie. The vet said she will be fine. Traumatized but fine.

The stupid, mean dive shop dog snatched her out of the truck by her head and started shaking her. As soon as my Sweetie got her out of the other dogs mouth, he had to hold her back because she was going after the stupid mutt. She was going to tear him to bits. She's little but she's tough.

Sweetie said he's going to get her an earring now that she has a hole in her ear. Good thing the other dog didn't grab her by the mid-section, she'd be getting a belly ring. I think she needs extra treats and attention.

Get well soon Rue.

Not Good

Teenagers.

Boxing Gloves.

Both in my house.

I will be gone all day.

This can't be good.

And the winner is...

There is another winner of the Darwin Award. Did you see this? Another stupid criminal is killed and they question what should happen to the dogs who mauled him.

COMPTON, Calif. -- A man was mauled to death by
three GUARD dogs after he jumped the
fence at a metalworking company in Compton Sunday.

The dogs are at a shelter. They'll be quarantined until county
animal control officers decide their fate. (emphasis mine)

Hello. What did I miss here? A man jumps a fence. He did not walk through a gate. He. Jumped. It. Which tells me it was locked and he didn't have permission to be there. The GUARD dogs attacked him. They are GUARD dogs. Duh! It's their job. They did their job. He did not steal anything and we don't have to pay any court or jail fees. Now they quarantine the dogs until they can determine their fate. Give them a steak. Reward them and let them get back to work. They didn't have to use force to make the dogs stop. "They ordered the dogs away without using weapons". The stupid idiot got what he deserved. It doesn't state that there were signs posted but it doesn't matter. If you have to jump a fence to get in somewhere you obviously aren't supposed to be there. They should just return the dogs to the company. I bet no one else ever jumps the fence there again. The sad part is that they will probably destroy the dogs and the idiot's family will sue the company and get a bunch of money. It's terrible that he was killed but he shouldn't have been doing it in the first place.

The Beast is Loose

Chowhound is now the Sexy Beast. At least that is his description of himself. It seems that girls have discovered Chowhound and his ego is so inflated you can't stand in the room with him.

Chowhound is in the band as well as crosscountry and track. So he stays busy and is involved but has always been extremely shy. He has had a few "girlfriends". You know, the kind that last from 2nd period to 5th and then they are "going out" with someone else. Well, last week at an away trackmeet two girls were flirting with him. Pump, Pump, Pump. Let's start inflating the ego. Then a few days later two girls in the neighborhood stopped him as he walked down the street and were flirting with him. He ran into them again Friday evening. One of the girls told him he was HOT and asked for his phone number! OMG what a monster she created. He was doing Charles Atlas poses in front of the sliding glass doors that night admiring his reflection and calling himself a sexy beast.

Then it got worse. Yesterday, he spent the day up at this school helping his Band Director rearrange equipment and build shelves and such. There were a group of the band kids up there on a Saturday volunteering their time so the Band Director decided to treat them to dinner at a local BBQ place. The Director went to the counter to pay and all the kids went outside to wait on him. Well, he came outside snickering and grinning. It seems the waitress, who was 16, gave him her phone number. FOR CHOWHOUND. She thought the Director was Chowhound's father and asked him if she could give him her number and ask Chowhound to call her. Now, you can't stand in the same room with him.

This is my baby. He just turned 16. He is 5'11" and weighs about 150. He does work out some with weights and does push ups, situps and jogs about 10 -15 miles per week. He has the washboard abs. But, his ribs poke out and you can watch his heartbeat. Apparently, 16 year old girls find this attractive.

I thought I was ready for my boys to grow up. But, not my baby. He has always been the one to help me out without asking and quick to give me a hug. I can't believe what a wonderful young man he has become. All my boys for that matter. I guess in a mother's eyes her boys always look like toddlers. It's hard to think that in just a few short years they will be exploring the world and trying to figure out their lives. So scary. It's scary letting them make mistakes. You know they are being stupid but there is nothing you can do but let them learn for themselves. But, there is pride too. A whole lot of pride. I beamed like the sun last year when Improviser walked across the stage in his cap and gown. Now, he is applying to colleges and starting to move on. Next year Daredevil will graduate and he wants to go into the military. That is scary for me. Then, it will be Chowhound's turn. He is already researching music scholarships. And now girls are coming into the picture. Oh, I feel old suddenly.

Today is NO HOUSE WORK DAY!

In honor of NO HOUSEWORK DAY, I think every woman should have the cleaning hunk. (Oh Man, I could watch him work alllllllllllllllllll day long.)

We all know what happens when we just quit for the day.

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house and there was no sign of the dog. Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door. He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she may be ill, or that something serious had happened.He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls. As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?" She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world did I do today?" "Yes," was his incredulous reply. She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."

O.R.E.O. Gone in sixty seconds

That's about how long it take for two teenagers to devour a package of oreo cookies and a half gallon of milk.

Chowhound enlightened me on the art of dunking oreos in milk. I stood there in awe of his technique. A master oreo eater. He should be in commercials.

Apparently, the rules state that first you drown them. He holds them under the milk until all the air bubbles are gone. Then, the procedure gets tricky. He quickly but precisely got the dripping cookies in his mouth without any milk getting on the counter. Oh, did I mention he eats them two at a time. That makes them Double Double stuffed oreos. Then came the challenge round. A three dunker. Yes. He did it. He managed to get three drowning, dripping oreos in his mouth without making a mess. He isn't called Chowhound for nothing.

Urgent Holiday Alert!!!

URGENT! URGENT! EMERGENCY NOTICE!

I'm late in spreading the word but this holiday desperately needs to be recognized.

Tomorrow, April 7, is NO HOUSEWORK DAY!

Yes, it's official. You have the excuse to say NO and not feel guilty.

There's two ways to celebrate this day:

If you normally do the housework around the house, cease and desist for this day. Instead, kick back and enjoy the day. Relax and do anything, except housework.

If you are a spouse or significant other, do the housework for your mate. It gives her (or him) a break from the housework. And, you just might get an appreciation of how much work it takes to keep up the house.

Quickly, spread the word. Send out notices. Burn your brooms. No housework tomorrow!

What's the proper response?

Men always talk about women and the dreaded "Does this make me look fat?" question and how to respond with the most positive results. Well, I have a question. Why do men always seem to ask "So where were you, with your other boyfriend?" Why do they ask that? Is it supposed to be comical? Is it suspicion hidden in jest? Is it insecurity? What is the best way to answer the stupid question?

I hate this question. I hate it with a passion. It irritates the hell out of me. I don't know if maybe I just read too much into it or what. I take it as a personal attack on my integrity and trust. Maybe I take it too personally. Every man I have had a serious relationship with ask this at some point. And of course, the truthful answer is I don't have another boyfriend. It is not even in my thoughts. I usually answer it with the rolling my eyes and a whatever or I start telling every little detail of my day so he doesn't think I'm lying.

Do men just need this reassurance or are they just making a joke? Is it just me that this bothers? How do other people respond to this question?

Taking a break

I'm taking a break from my Spring Cleaning and Redecorating Project. My old furniture hit the trash heap last weekend. I was so glad to see it go. It was get-me-by furniture given to me three years ago when I bought my house. I didn't have a stick of furniture at the time so it served it's purpose and now has been retired to a pile of ash.

So, this week I have had the carpets cleaned, celebrated Chowhound's birthday, removed all the remaining items from the living room except the entertainment center. I started painting last night and I was horrified when we moved the entertainment center. OMG. It looked like Pompeii. Then, I started laughing. The first thing that ran through my mind was I could win a Casa de Dust contest if ArmyWifeToddlerMom had one. I would have taken and posted pictures but I didn't want to embarrass myself that much.

I am now down to the boring, tedious part of painting. The baseboards. I hate painting baseboards and I just can't put border on them like I do up at the ceiling. Thus, I am procrastinating right now because I don't have an edger. The tape isn't working very well. But, motivation is right around the corner because I pick up my new furniture tomorrow. The, the ultimate motivation arrives Saturday. My mother. Yeah, she is coming in for a short visit.

Well, back to painting.

Happy Birthday Chowhound

My baby is sweet 16 today. Everyone help me wish Chowhound a great birthday. I have more to post later but right now we have to go out to eat, of course.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHOWHOUND!!!!!!

How to jump start a Monday

Ring, Ring,

"Hello"

"Can I speak to ****"

"Speaking"

"This is Agent SoandSo with the FBI."

HOLY CRAP! WHAT DID DAREDEVIL DO NOW?! That's the first thought that went through my head. All kinds of things came next. I thought it was bad enough when the Sheriff's Deputy from the School called from my house because Daredevil and his friends were skipping. But, the FBI. This is some serious crap here. I prayed please, please, please be a practical joke. He didn't give me a lot of information. He just asked to meet with me.

So, how do you make a good impression at work? Ask your boss, "Can I use your office to talk with the FBI?" This looks real good since my company is sending people for drug tests this week.

Turns out it didn't involve any of my kids for a change. They're doing an investigation on the guy next door.

Yeah, dodged that bullet for now. Always have to stay on my toes.

Tales of Ox

Ox Tails....is this on anyone's shopping list? It certainly isn't on mine. But, everywhere I go lately I see it. There is a huge hand written sign posted on the freezer door of our little grocery store announcing, "YES, WE HAVE OX TAILS". Oh, good. I was worried.

Then, I check out this new restaurant. They have oxtails on their menu. What is up with that? But even worse is the first item on their dry erase board menu. Curried goat. Bleh. I'm glad my appetite rushed back to the car before my lunch hurled to the floor. You don't have to worry about me making reservations.

This site says, "Oxtail soup is a comfort food for many." No. No. No. Chocolate is a comfort food. Brownies, oreos, Molten Chocolate Cake. These are comfort foods. No where in the PMS guide does it list Oxtail soup. The ox doesn't even find any comfort in that. And certainly not me. Who the hell finds comfort in oxtail soup?

Further, it states, "Today, upscale chefs are rediscovering oxtails to the nostalgic delight of older patrons and the wonder of the younger crowd who consider it an exotic meat. And it's not just for soup or stew these days, as you'll see from the recipes. " Nostalgic delight?! Exotic?! No, it's the left over parts no one wants to eat. The older people ate it because they were poor and people used to give the junk away. It was called survival food. They ate it because they had to. It became undiscovered because it was crap. Now all of a sudden it's exotic? Give me a break. I don't believe it. People use it because it's cheap.

The article says that it's the collagen from the oxtail that makes it tasty. Animal collagen is used in shampoos and conditioners. It is in antiwrinkle creams. I have no desire to eat my shampoo and cosmetics. This doesn't even sound appetizing.

Has anyone reading this eaten oxtail? Do you cook with it regularly? I'm just curious. Don't invite me for dinner that night.

Life doesn't get any better than this

The pungent, spicy aroma of jerk chicken simmering...the drumming rhythm of "A Pirate looks a Forty" .... and twirling around the kitchen with Chowhound. Life is wonderful, Mon.

Weather Pixie

I like everyone's little weather pixie so I added one to my site. But, I was disappointed in their choices of Pixies. They have all kinds of cute, sexy looking female pixies but are seriously lacking in hunky male pixies. I wanted a male weatherboy. I set my weather to reflect my Sweetie's location, the Bahamas. I would much rather be there than here. For reasons other than the weather, but still. I hate the cold and I dream of being warm. I wanted a hunky weatherboy. They only have punky weatherboys. I live in a house of punks I don't want one representing my site. So, I picked Tangerine girl. After the last dye job on my hair, I kinda look like her.

Old Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get her poor doggie a bone,
When she got there
The cupboard was bare
Because Daredevil and Chowhound were home.

I will be so glad when they run off to Ft. Lauderdale for Spring Break and get thrown in jail or something. At least then, I won't have to feed them. They have eaten me out of house and home this week. I fear for the dog. I'm afraid they might eat him too. So far, he has survived. But, there is still the weekend.

We're down to having breakfast for dinner. Last night they ate:

a loaf of bread (French Toast)
A dozen eggs
a pound of bacon

They had already eaten before I got home so they weren't real hungry.

Image Meme--Take 2

My wonderful mother, VWBug, tagged me. Yes, Mom. I'll do my homework.

Here's the instructions:

2. Pick 5 random blogfriends.
3. Think of a word or phrase that you describes each friend.
1. Choose a search engine (e.g. Dogpile).
4. Do an image search of that word or phrase.
5. Pick an image that makes you say, "Aha! That's it!"

So, here goes my attempt to make friends.

Hippie, Welcome to the Family.









love and Koolaid Stains




Rave of Quid nunc




I'll do what I want to do--Gosh



Thought Drizzle



I picked people I wasn't too familar with so I could make friends. If anyone's offended sorry. But, my mom made me do it. She says I need to get out more. Go here and blame her.

VW's Day with Tater and Tot

First thing in the morning, VWBug is raring to go. She's a tank. Sound the battle alarm. Post arms. It's time to battle the toddler world and win.





She even takes time to dress up and play with the enemy troops. "It gets their guard down. They think I have surrendered."




By Noon, she is seeking ways to escape. "Maybe I can scare them into behaving", she thinks. "I'll slip into my spider disguise." HA! It won't work. They're boys. They love bugs. She is starting to show signs of distress--illogical thinking.





Desperation sets in. "I must GET AWWWWWWWWWay! Yes, Yes. I can escape."



Oh, No. Sleep deprivation kicks in. Crash and Burn.




Tater and Tot win again!


Oh, the meme was five images of other people? Silly me. I'll try again tomorrow.

Labeling Children

I've always heard you shouldn't label children. I disagree. They should all come with labels. If they had, I would have been more prepared for Daredevil. This is his Warning Label.

PARENTAL

ADVISORY

DAREDEVIL CONTAINS EXPLICIT LYRICS

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com


I would have been warned.

My Warning Label

THIS WAY UP á

Sticks has fragile contents which may break!

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

Hat tip to Oddybobo who stole it from Ogre who stole it.

*Evidently I've been upside down already because something is broken. This gets all messed up when I post. Looks great when I'm editing it.

What every girl wants?

What do you get a teenage girl for her 17th Birthday?


earrings, of course, to match the ring and necklace you already bought her. (It's her birthstone)



AND




Yep. Daredevil bought his girlfriend earrings and nunchucks for her birthday. He says it's not what every girl wants but IT'S WHAT HIS GIRL WANTS. And what's wrong with that? She's different and that's what he likes about her.

He said it was a toss up between the nunchucks and a Chinese throwing star. He figured he was safer with the nunchucks. Those wounds would heal. He didn't want to end up with a star up his butt.

Maybe she has the right idea. Keep 'em line. I like this girl!

Sometimes...

there just aren't enough rocks."
Forest Gump

Getting Personal

If you're looking for something upbeat check back another day. Today I am hitting a very personal and sensitive subject. It is rather long since I don't have an extended entry option. But, it is very important to me to post this.

Three things happened recently to prompt me to write this. They are all connected to the abuse I experienced as child.

First, Monday I spent a little time at a Christian school/church that reminded me of one I attended when I was young. Then, last night I received news of the death of a childhood friend. He was the Uncle of the little girl my step-father molested. It was her courage that led to his prosecution and prison time. Finally, I woke up in the wee hours this morning and caught a a very powerful episode of Oprah. It originally aired October 18, 2005. But, as I am not in touch with current events, I had never heard any of this. Oprah was interviewing Laveranues Coles. He was talking about his own experiences with his step-father molesting him. I now have tremendous respect for this man. This is not something very easy to talk about. Especially for a man molested by another man.

These events have led to some very deep thinking and reflection.

Sometimes writing is very difficult for me. Until I started this blog, I had not written very much since my teenage years. Writing back then was survival. But, my emotions kept the words from flowing. I was only able to write when I was under the influence of something. It was only then that I could write. But, I feel compelled to tell my story. Not just the details of events, but the emotions and struggles. It is extremely hard for me to open up to people on a very personal level. I feel I need to do this.

For me, the hardest part of being molested wasn't the physical part but the shame, humiliation, hopelessness and confusion I felt. Feelings a child should not experience. I had a hard time accepting that I could love and hate this man so much at the same time. He came into my life when I was four. He was not always the monster. He was the very best and absolute worst father a man could be. There was no inbetween.

In the beginning I battled my emotions by turning to God. On Sunday mornings, I would quietly get dressed for church as everyone else slept. The church bus was my salvation. I knew God could heal me. Everyone told me so. Every Sunday I anxiously waited for "alter call". The Church I attended had a small kneeling alter at the front. I would go up there and pray and pray and pray to God to stop the pain I felt. An adult would come and pray over me. It was the only comfort I had at the time. In my 10 year old mind, I knew God would save me from the life I was living. Looking back now, I wonder why didn't any of the adults question why a child would cry and pray every Sunday. When God didn't make things better, I denounced Him. I remember slumping down against the gym wall at school, burying my head in my knees, and shaking my fist at "God" and telling Him I would never believe again. I was angry. Angry at everyone. But, mainly myself and God because I couldn't make the pain go away and He didn't rescue me.

When religion didn't work, I turned to "science". I researched my symptoms. Mood swings, depression, crying, and suicidal thoughts were among them. I remember being elated when I figured out what was wrong with me. I rushed into the guidance counselor's office and announced that I was a Manic Depressive. Since, I finally knew what "my problem" was, I knew I could fix it now. The counselor dismissed my notions. She never called my parents. She never asked why. She did nothing. Except tell me I was wrong. At eleven I wanted to die. I wished for it every day. And I could not tell a soul. I was bound in a prison of shame.

I battled the highs and lows until I discovered alcohol and drugs. I finally found a way to numb everything. I could drink until I felt nothing or I could "smoke" until I was laughing and happy. In fact, most of the time I remembered nothing. Things grew worse at home. My step-father provided the alcohol and drugs. It was an easy way to take advantage of me if I was unconscious. My emotional state worsened. My life worsened. There were only a few people I felt comfortable enough to be around with out altering my mental state. But, I was ashamed to even tell them.

After graduating from high school, I was finally able to escape the abuse. It had been on and off for almost 10 years. It was during my most formative years. When everyone else was learning about the world and figuring out what they wanted to do with their future, I was still struggling to convince myself I even wanted to live. Shame is an extremely binding emotion. I had lived nearly half my life in fear and shame. I felt dirty and unworthy of love but desperately craved it.

I know there are children out there experiencing the same thing. Everyone needs to keep their eyes and ears open. Children cry and demand help but won't always ask for it outright. They want to know someone cares.

I was fortunate enough to pull myself together and get therapy. Then, my healing was helped even more by the voice of an 11 year old girl. She and I held hands throughout the trials. She was my salvation. I don't think I could have faced my step-father if that little girl hadn't stood up to him first. As a child I wanted an adult to save me. But, in the end it was a child who saved the adult. I owe her my life.

This is why those events hit me so hard. My step-father always told us how terrible the kids next door were. Then, when we were no longer vulnerable he took advantage of one of their children. Other than the mother of the little girl, I never talked about it with the rest of their family. So, even though I have not spoken to them in 15 years, I have a deep connection with this family. They have been part of my life since I was 13. They have had more than their share of troubles. The little girl's father died in a car accident a few years after the trial. Now, another brother has died and one other has cancer and is not expected to live to see the end of this year. My prayers are with this family and my heart goes out to them in their time of sorrow.

What impressions have my kids made

I sometimes wonder what impressions my boys have made on other adults. Throughout the years I have been complimented on them. I smile proudly. But, that was when they were younger. Now they are teenagers. What do impressions have they left now? Well, I found out today.

Our little high school band has been invited to represent the State of Florida in the 4th of July Parade in Washington DC. Today they have a car wash to help raise money. Daredevil and Chowhound grabbed signs and headed towards the road. I wanted to run and hide when I heard the Band Director yell at them, "Don't scare AWAY the customers!" Ack. That's not good.

Not a Shamrock

HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY

In observance of St. Patrick's Day, I wanted to wear green to work today. Actually, I just didn't want to get pinched. I work in a predominantly redneck male environment where harass is still interpreted as two words, "HER ASS" and I didn't want to give them any excuses.

As I was exploring my wardrobe for green articles this morning, I remembered I had a green pin in my jewelry box. Now, folks, you have to realize that I am not a jewelry person. I have a jewelry box but it does not contain the typical things. It is more a conglomeration of things I have collected through the years.

Just to give you an idea, some of the contents include:
*a pin that says "I can handle any crisis I'M A MOM"
*a gold Pokemon card
*a key to a storage locker on Catalina Island, CA
*a Swiss army knife
*2 fortune cookie fortunes
*a picture of a rose torn out of the newspaper

There are a bunch of other things too. Some fake pearls, a few pieces of costume jewelry. I don't know where some of the things came from. I do not remember where I got the "Shamrock" pin or even when. I just know that I remember seeing this green pin in my collection over the years. I can't remember ever wearing it before. But, since it was St. Patty's Day, I figured it would be cute to wear it to work sort of like warding off vampires with a cross or whatever you are supposed to use.

Anyway, I pull it out and start to put it on. Suddenly, it dawns on me. OMG this is not a Shamrock! A Shamrock only has three leaves. Where in the hell, when and why did I acquire this.



Needless to say, I did not wear it to work.

Friday Flashback

Okay, Mom, I'll tell my stories. It'll be a Flashback Friday today.

Being around VW's boys sure makes memories come pouring back. Just seeing the two car seats in her van made me smile. Traveling with toddlers is always an adventure. And it is even more so if they are within touching distance of each other. My three boys are within 4 years of each other which meant that someone could always touch someone else since the backseat was wall-to-wall kid carriers.

It's a mother's nightmare trying to referee while driving. Well, this one particular day, Daredevil and Improviser were snacking on Happy Meals in the backseat. Suddenly, Daredevil, I think he was 3 at the time, started crying and screaming. The mother's inquiry revealed he had a french fry up his nose. Stomping Brakes, gravel grinding, I pull off the road. Yep. It was way up there. Not a scrap hanging out. I'm glad he wasn't laughing and snorting. We would have needed surgery to get the sucker out.

"How did you get a french fry up your nose?"

Teary eyed, he replied "Improviser did it!"

"Why did you put a french fry up your brother's nose?"

Improviser replied matter of factly, "'cause he tried to put one in my ear."

Toddler justification. It made perfect sense to him.

Okay, what now?! Plan A. Grab something to use as a snot rag. Blow. Nope. Nothing.

Plan B. Stifling my laughter I drove to my mother's house to borrow a pair of tweezers. It was way up there. Luckily, this didn't require an emergency room trip. The extrication was simple and quick. And hilarious. Did I mention it was way up his nose?My mother still laughs about this. I was soooooooo glad I did not have to make a trip to the emergency room for this. It was bad enough I had already recently taken his brother in to get a rock out of his ear. But, that's another story.

Great Marketing

Ad agencies pay people good money to sucker people in. Someone earned their money on me. Because twice this week I have bought terrible products because of the packaging.

Episode #1.

This is my skin.



Yep, it's as dry as mud. Especially in the winter. Easy solution. Lotion. There are a gazillion lotions on the shelves. I just grab one that looks great. I'm a sucker for anything that resembles summer and beaches. Neutrogena Summer Glow daily moisturizer. You think I would have picked up on G.L.O.W. No not me. I concentrated on the daily moisturizer part. It was a real blonde moment.

It's my calves and ankles that are the driest. So, I just douse them down and rub the excess on my forearms for good measure.

Yesterday, I notice my palms look funny. Orange even. I sprint to the bathroom and inspect the lotion closer. Self-tanning. OMG. I look at my legs. I'm tan from the knees to the ankles. It's worse than a farmer's tan. It's a mailman's tan. Good thing it's not shorts time yet. It's capris for now. I sure hope it fades as fast as a real tan.

Episode #2

Heed my warning. I was the guinea pig.

If you are tempted to buy Krusteaz Mango Bars reach for something else.

My boys love Mangos. The picture on the box looked good. I was in a sweets mood. So, I was suckered in.

First warning: It didn't smell good when I was mixing it up. Ignore warning #1.

Second warning: It didn't smell good while baking. I should have clued in here. Ignore warning #2.

Finally, it's done. Taste test time. Yuck. It taste like dirty socks smell. I gagged. So, disgusting. Maybe glitter and raisins would have made them tolerable. But, I don't think so.

You have warned.

Mini Blog Meet

Too tired to blog last night. Thoughts and fingers would not cooperate. But, what a wonderful weekend! It was full and busy and refreshing. I hated to return to reality but one can't live in vacation/fantasy land forever.

I visited with my Blog Mother and longtime friend, VWBug, not once but twice. Her sons, Tater and Tot are as adorable in person as they appear on her blog. I got hugs, kisses and pictures. They are two too sweet boys. Also, Happy Dog is very happy, very friendly and seemed to like me very much. His nose is right at the wrong height. He kept goosing my butt with his nose. Nothing like trying to visit while holding a miniature horse at bay. We had a fantastic visit reminiscing and catching up.

On the return trip, we had a mini blog meet. Three generations of bloggers together. I was excited. I finally met my Blog Grandmother, Boudicca. I've know VW since Jr. High School, but even though Bou and I briefly went to the same High School, this was the first time we met. She is a beautiful woman. I think what struck me most about her was the confidence and energy she exudes. I am envious of that. So now I can add "Bloggers I have met" to my sidebar.

I was disappointed to learn that I missed meeting That 1 Guy by only a few hours. Maybe on his next world tour.

Today is.....

P A N I C Day!

Ok. Ok. I'll agree with that. I can panic.

13 Reasons to Panic today

1. I'm leaving for my trip in the morning and I'm not packed.

2. I still have to pick up the rental car tonight.

3. I colored my hair last night and it looks funky. It looks kinda orange to me. That will teach me to go off on a whim and color my hair right before I see my Sweetie.

4. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser (19) and Daredevil (18) for the weekend. Stupid, Stupid, Mom. You think I would have learned my lesson when Improviser got the Explorer stolen.

5. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

6. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

7. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

8. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

9. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

10. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

11. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

12. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

13. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

Hear that sound. That's me beating my head against the wall. When will I learn. Anyone have any Zanax? Panic attack city today.

HAVE YOU HAD YOUR PANIC ATTACK TODAY?

Heading South

I headed for South Florida tomorrow. First, I'm going to stop off and have PB&J with Tater, Tot and my Blog Mom, VWBug. I am so excited. This will be the first time I have gotten to visit with the precious boys. They were asleep the last time I dropped by. Contrary to what VWBug says, they do sleep. Or at least that's what I was told. Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't even her house. All the lights were off and we had to whisper. And whispering is not something I am very good at. (Just poking fun at her). Anyways, I am really excited about my visit with her and the boys.

Then, I am headed even further South to spend some time with my Sweetie. It's been since Christmas since I have seen him and I can't wait.

The flip side of the coin is that I am, stupidly, once again leaving my house and car in the possession of Improviser and Daredevil. I have been promised that they will behave. Yeah, right. Like I believe that one. But, in my little world, I will. Otherwise, I will be a nervous wreck all weekend and won't get to enjoy myself. Yeah, right. And I'll let them think that.

Well, time to finish packing. Have a great weekend and I'll see you folks Tuesday.

Battle of the Sexes Ammunition

My boys are evidently taking the battle of the sexes seriously. They are armed and ready to fight. I found this in the bathroom this morning.



They have discovered the ultimate weapons in the war with women.



Deodorant. Shaving cream. Razors. Toothbrush. (The toothpaste was on the counter). Nothing like a girl to get a boy to take a shower and start caring about his appearance.

Yeah. Gone are the days when I have to coax them to take a shower and then ask specific follow up questions. Did you use soap and water? Did you wash your hair? Did you brush your teeth? Did you use toothpaste?

I'm not sure where they got their unique toiletry kit. I'm not sure if I want to know. But, I guarantee, I will inspect their luggage the next time we fly. I can see this show up during a security check at the airport. We would make national headlines. Some high strung security cop would probably shoot us.

Today is.....

HUG A GI DAY!

My source states:

Today is a day that we all can embrace. It's "Hug a GI Day". Give a great big hug to any and all GIs you see today. The men and women in our armed forces deserve our thanks and appreciation.

GI's perform an invaluable service to our country. They risk their lives for our freedom, and to keep us safe. A simple hug is a small thanks for this vital service to our country.

So here is a BIG HUG in appreciation to anyone who has served our country to defend my freedoms.

I would be cautious of just going up and hugging anyone in uniform without explaining why. This might cause some ingratitude at first.

I couldn't find anything on the origin of "Hug a GI Day", but I suspect it was a pick up line originally. Seems like a good way from a young GI to meet some pretty innocent little thing.

Today is.....

National Anthem Day

Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?


On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wiped out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

________________________

March 3, 1931, the "Star Spangled Banner" was officially declared The United States' National Anthem by an act of Congress.

The Star Spangled Banner was originally only a poem. However, there was a very popular tune of the time which had the same form and metre, ironically, this was the tune of a British drinking song. When the handbills were printed, they bore the name of this tune to which the poem should be sung - Anacreon in Heaven.

Today is.....

Old Stuff Day.

There is no explanation for this day and it is left wide open for interpretation. Go here for the complete list of holidays.

What is your favorite old stuff?

Compliment?

Compliments from teenage boys to their mother are rare events and usually masked with sarcasm. So, I was taken aback by the conversation with Chowhound tonight.

Chowhound peering over my shoulder looking at the rice dish I was cooking. "That looks like you went bluuuuuegh". The line was complete with perfect theatrical embellishment. My drama king.

Me: "Gee, thanks"

Chowhound: "I like the way you cook. It's different."

I raise my eyebrows inquisitively. He continues, "You don't cook like most people. You don't use a cookbook or anything. You just throw stuff together. And most of the time it turns out good."

His name is Chowhound. He eats everything. I'm not rushing to Betty Crocker with my recipes.

Today is.....

National Pig Day and Peanut Butter Lover's Day.





If you pig out on peanut butter does this count for celebrating both?

But, I'm serious today is National Pig Day. If you forgot to send a card don't despair. You can find some here.

There have been some pretty famous pigs. How many can you name? And I'm not including politicians here.

There's Miss Piggy. Babe. Wilbur. And of course, Porky Pig. You can cheat and go check out some of these sites.

I still haven't quite figured out the connection between pigs and peanut butter. But, today is also Peanut Butter Lover's Day.

So, pig out on peanut butter cups and have a wonderful day!