Love Thursdays - Brotherly Love

This is the big brother protecting his little brother from something on the TV. Since we never have on anything more hardcore than Thomas I can't imagine what it was.
But he loves his brothers. When I was pregnant he would proudly tell everyone "We're having two babies!" like it was the best news ever.
He puts his arms around them when they cry and says "Oh it's okay buddy, don't cry."

He loves them so.

Did you participate in LOVE THURSDAY?

Love Thursdays - Brotherly Love

This is the big brother protecting his little brother from something on the TV. Since we never have on anything more hardcore than Thomas I can't imagine what it was.
But he loves his brothers. When I was pregnant he would proudly tell everyone "We're having two babies!" like it was the best news ever.
He puts his arms around them when they cry and says "Oh it's okay buddy, don't cry."

He loves them so.

Did you participate in LOVE THURSDAY?

What Stage is the I NEED SOMETHING TO DO Stage?

I went to see SNAKES ON A PLANE tonight with my friends. Possibly some sort of therapy was to be had there. Most likely not. The hubby asked if I was really sure I wanted to see a movie about a plane.
I said that there weren't any SNAKES on flight 5191 so I figured I would be alright.
I was right, really, and the movie was a hoot but really all in all, I'm at a loss in general.
There is something I'm supposed to be doing, but I don't know what it is.
I suppose if I was near at hand I'd bake beans or a casserole and take it over to the family. That would be something to do. Something with a purpose.
I get up.
I go to work.
I come home.
I take care of my family.
But I need something to do.
Something else.
Maybe I'm just seeking the closure that the shrinks are always babbling about. There isn't anything to be done now but bury the dead and I am certainly unqualified for that.

Bobby I'm so sorry this happened to you. There aren't enough words in the entire world for me to express how sorry I am. The word for my anger and pain hasn't been invented. I want to scream and rage but instead I'm pretty much just accepting that this isn't particularly useful so I don't bother. The universe isn't listening anyway.

I don't know what I need to do. When I figure it out I'll let you know.

What Stage is the I NEED SOMETHING TO DO Stage?

I went to see SNAKES ON A PLANE tonight with my friends. Possibly some sort of therapy was to be had there. Most likely not. The hubby asked if I was really sure I wanted to see a movie about a plane.
I said that there weren't any SNAKES on flight 5191 so I figured I would be alright.
I was right, really, and the movie was a hoot but really all in all, I'm at a loss in general.
There is something I'm supposed to be doing, but I don't know what it is.
I suppose if I was near at hand I'd bake beans or a casserole and take it over to the family. That would be something to do. Something with a purpose.
I get up.
I go to work.
I come home.
I take care of my family.
But I need something to do.
Something else.
Maybe I'm just seeking the closure that the shrinks are always babbling about. There isn't anything to be done now but bury the dead and I am certainly unqualified for that.

Bobby I'm so sorry this happened to you. There aren't enough words in the entire world for me to express how sorry I am. The word for my anger and pain hasn't been invented. I want to scream and rage but instead I'm pretty much just accepting that this isn't particularly useful so I don't bother. The universe isn't listening anyway.

I don't know what I need to do. When I figure it out I'll let you know.

Flight 5191 and the Loss of Bobby Meaux

I think of myself as someone who deals with death pretty matter of factly. I become sad, but I'm pretty well adjusted to the fact that people DO indeed die and it isn't fair, it isn't right, and sometimes you have to suck it up and go on because this is just how things go. I credit my Grandmother Drake for this somewhat, for constantly dragging me to viewings of people I didn't or did know. I also largely credit my own mother who taught me that life isn't fair, and it isn't ever going to be, so there is no need to dwell on that fact.
Today when I first woke up I saw an image of the Cinncinati regional airport and a blurb about a Comair crash. I've flown Comair - I remarked to the spouse, and continued putzing around the house. I didn't bother to read the story. Plane crashed out of the Cincinnati airport....yes? (Which by the way is actually in Kentucky but whatever, not relevant).
Spouse says - no......look at THIS picture? Recognize this?

Bluegrass airport. Lexington Kentucky. Which was once home.
It took my breath away, the way things that happen in places you love do, but we went on about our day. How often does tragedy actually reach out and knock you on the head, after all?
I wrote yesterday about how the phone can ring and it can be the best news, the news you were waiting for breathlessly. Today, in the back of my mind, I kept listening for my phone to ring. But it didn't ring and a fine day was had.

At suppertime I took my phone out of my backpack to invite Leslie to dinner and saw I had missed messages. Multiple messages. All from Lexington.

Sometimes you move to a place and it becomes home even though it isn't. Sometimes you meet people and they become like your family even though they aren't. They are people who you love almost as soon as you meet them. You know things about them just by the first conversation you have, and they are things you like. You feel connected. And even though you move 1000 miles away, when you touch base, you still feel the vibe.
On flight 5191 were many people, including several from my former place of employment. But I would like to tell you about just ONE someone you will never get to meet that was among them. His name was Bobby Meaux.

Bobby was a natural leader. It's difficult to explain. When he was on the phones and new initiatives would roll out, Bobby would be the rep on the floor that the other reps looked to for example, to embrace or not. He was upbeat. He was positive, and he was charming. He was a lot of good things. People followed Bobby, and they didn't even know they were doing it.
He might have been some bad things too but I don't really know what they were.

Bobby and I had a joke that we thought was hilarious when we worked together. One day in the break room we saw a short "weather break" where they were interviewing a "Man on the Street" type of deal who was going ON about how he just WISHED there was some sort of way to KNOW when we were going to get these big thunderstorms. Probably made the weatherman feel sort of stupid. Bobby and I completely cracked up.
After that when we had bad weather we'd both complain LOUD AND LONG to anyone around about how we WISHED for some sort of technology to forecast the weather. And no one else ever understood what the hell we were talking about. Of course this was hilarious to us, especially when someone would try to EXPLAIN to us about radar and the weather channel - which happened more than once.

Bobby wrecked his car (a white Fiero) once and called me instead of 911. I think he was just confused and work was on his cell phone. 911 wasn't.

For my going away present, when I left the company, he gave me an Indiana University Tshirt that I had always envied when he wore it. He gave it to me because he knew I loved it and he didn't think they made it anymore.

I flipped on to my fantasty football league to see if he had already built his team, because he always plays - and I think that might have been too much to bear seeing it there. But it wasn't there yet. He still had time to fill it out.

Had time.

These are just some of the things popping around in my head this evening. I've never had to deal with flipping on the TV and seeing on CNN the fiery mess that was the end of a friend. It's callous, the way the news reports tragedy.

But what I really want to say is that the world lost someone who did great things during his time with us. He was kind. He made people feel important. He understood that what he did touched people and effected their lives and made an effort to do it well. Some people will never be the president, will never touch millions or save the whales, but their hearts are full of kindness and when they touch you, you are never the same again.

Bobby Meaux was one of those people. And I will miss him forever.

Flight 5191 and the Loss of Bobby Meaux

I think of myself as someone who deals with death pretty matter of factly. I become sad, but I'm pretty well adjusted to the fact that people DO indeed die and it isn't fair, it isn't right, and sometimes you have to suck it up and go on because this is just how things go. I credit my Grandmother Drake for this somewhat, for constantly dragging me to viewings of people I didn't or did know. I also largely credit my own mother who taught me that life isn't fair, and it isn't ever going to be, so there is no need to dwell on that fact.
Today when I first woke up I saw an image of the Cinncinati regional airport and a blurb about a Comair crash. I've flown Comair - I remarked to the spouse, and continued putzing around the house. I didn't bother to read the story. Plane crashed out of the Cincinnati airport....yes? (Which by the way is actually in Kentucky but whatever, not relevant).
Spouse says - no......look at THIS picture? Recognize this?

Bluegrass airport. Lexington Kentucky. Which was once home.
It took my breath away, the way things that happen in places you love do, but we went on about our day. How often does tragedy actually reach out and knock you on the head, after all?
I wrote yesterday about how the phone can ring and it can be the best news, the news you were waiting for breathlessly. Today, in the back of my mind, I kept listening for my phone to ring. But it didn't ring and a fine day was had.

At suppertime I took my phone out of my backpack to invite Leslie to dinner and saw I had missed messages. Multiple messages. All from Lexington.

Sometimes you move to a place and it becomes home even though it isn't. Sometimes you meet people and they become like your family even though they aren't. They are people who you love almost as soon as you meet them. You know things about them just by the first conversation you have, and they are things you like. You feel connected. And even though you move 1000 miles away, when you touch base, you still feel the vibe.
On flight 5191 were many people, including several from my former place of employment. But I would like to tell you about just ONE someone you will never get to meet that was among them. His name was Bobby Meaux.

Bobby was a natural leader. It's difficult to explain. When he was on the phones and new initiatives would roll out, Bobby would be the rep on the floor that the other reps looked to for example, to embrace or not. He was upbeat. He was positive, and he was charming. He was a lot of good things. People followed Bobby, and they didn't even know they were doing it.
He might have been some bad things too but I don't really know what they were.

Bobby and I had a joke that we thought was hilarious when we worked together. One day in the break room we saw a short "weather break" where they were interviewing a "Man on the Street" type of deal who was going ON about how he just WISHED there was some sort of way to KNOW when we were going to get these big thunderstorms. Probably made the weatherman feel sort of stupid. Bobby and I completely cracked up.
After that when we had bad weather we'd both complain LOUD AND LONG to anyone around about how we WISHED for some sort of technology to forecast the weather. And no one else ever understood what the hell we were talking about. Of course this was hilarious to us, especially when someone would try to EXPLAIN to us about radar and the weather channel - which happened more than once.

Bobby wrecked his car (a white Fiero) once and called me instead of 911. I think he was just confused and work was on his cell phone. 911 wasn't.

For my going away present, when I left the company, he gave me an Indiana University Tshirt that I had always envied when he wore it. He gave it to me because he knew I loved it and he didn't think they made it anymore.

I flipped on to my fantasty football league to see if he had already built his team, because he always plays - and I think that might have been too much to bear seeing it there. But it wasn't there yet. He still had time to fill it out.

Had time.

These are just some of the things popping around in my head this evening. I've never had to deal with flipping on the TV and seeing on CNN the fiery mess that was the end of a friend. It's callous, the way the news reports tragedy.

But what I really want to say is that the world lost someone who did great things during his time with us. He was kind. He made people feel important. He understood that what he did touched people and effected their lives and made an effort to do it well. Some people will never be the president, will never touch millions or save the whales, but their hearts are full of kindness and when they touch you, you are never the same again.

Bobby Meaux was one of those people. And I will miss him forever.

Son of A.......

Ernesto is coming to dinner it seems.

.

DAMMIT.

My friend David used to work in a salon run by a very high maintenance queen called Ernesto - who was possibly the queeniest queen of all. Ernesto was from Cuba and his accent was like something created by a cartoonist. If you took Ricky Ricardo and cranked up the accent to the power of 10, plus add a weird speech impediment that causes you to drop certain letters at random times...you'd have it. There were just the two of them in the salon, and the voice mail was Ernesto's message. "Thank you for calling Erneto (he couldn't say the S in his own name). I am currently wit a client. Pleeeze leave a mettage and I will call you back, dahling. Have a beautiful and gloriuz day."
Ernesto had a lover named ummmmm, oh what was it.....Arthur? I just remembered he called him "precious." He would get off the phone and say, with a MAD grin "I call him Precious because that's what he is." The alternative lifestyle world's very own Smeagle, was Ernesto. I don't know what happened to him.
And now he's sent a hurricane to kick my ass for mocking his accent, hasn't he?
Bastard.

Son of A.......

Ernesto is coming to dinner it seems.

.

DAMMIT.

My friend David used to work in a salon run by a very high maintenance queen called Ernesto - who was possibly the queeniest queen of all. Ernesto was from Cuba and his accent was like something created by a cartoonist. If you took Ricky Ricardo and cranked up the accent to the power of 10, plus add a weird speech impediment that causes you to drop certain letters at random times...you'd have it. There were just the two of them in the salon, and the voice mail was Ernesto's message. "Thank you for calling Erneto (he couldn't say the S in his own name). I am currently wit a client. Pleeeze leave a mettage and I will call you back, dahling. Have a beautiful and gloriuz day."
Ernesto had a lover named ummmmm, oh what was it.....Arthur? I just remembered he called him "precious." He would get off the phone and say, with a MAD grin "I call him Precious because that's what he is." The alternative lifestyle world's very own Smeagle, was Ernesto. I don't know what happened to him.
And now he's sent a hurricane to kick my ass for mocking his accent, hasn't he?
Bastard.

These Are The Days

27 years and a few odd months ago I was playing at indoor recess with my friends. We were playing a board game but I can't remember what. I can tell you it was my friend Christa and my friend Kristen (my life is full of people with variations of the Christa name) and the room was loud and the room was full of kids full of energy that they hadn't been able to take outside and run off. My teacher was Mrs. Combs, and her team teaching partner was Mr. Scott. They had a large partition that ran the length of the two rooms which they had rolled back to give us access to both rooms for our play time. Two years later Mr. Scott would bleed out and die during surgery on an ulcer.
But on this day I didn't know that would happen. On this day I was waiting.
I was waiting for something to happen.
And then it did. The intercom in the room beeped - "Mrs. Combs?"
Mrs Combs walked over to the intercom and pressed the button "Yes?"
"Bridgette has a little brother."
And I screamed in joy and my two best friends and I fell to the floor, and the three of us were laughing so hard that we were crying. And I thought that I would never in my life feel so much joy. It was a baby that lived, and my mom was okay, and everything was okay this time. And that is how my brother Matt came into my life.

One year ago today, I was waiting.
I was at work, and I had my hand on my cell phone almost all day. If I was in a meeting I turned it down to vibrate and still kept my hand on my phone. And suddenly, again, something happened. My phone vibrated. I stepped out of a meeting and answered my phone.

And it was my brother Matt.
"It's on like Donkey Kong."

And that's how I found out that my beautiful niece Madison was about to make her entrance into the world.

Happy Birthday Beautiful Girl.
In all of eternity there will never be another you.
Fearlessly be yourself.

These Are The Days

27 years and a few odd months ago I was playing at indoor recess with my friends. We were playing a board game but I can't remember what. I can tell you it was my friend Christa and my friend Kristen (my life is full of people with variations of the Christa name) and the room was loud and the room was full of kids full of energy that they hadn't been able to take outside and run off. My teacher was Mrs. Combs, and her team teaching partner was Mr. Scott. They had a large partition that ran the length of the two rooms which they had rolled back to give us access to both rooms for our play time. Two years later Mr. Scott would bleed out and die during surgery on an ulcer.
But on this day I didn't know that would happen. On this day I was waiting.
I was waiting for something to happen.
And then it did. The intercom in the room beeped - "Mrs. Combs?"
Mrs Combs walked over to the intercom and pressed the button "Yes?"
"Bridgette has a little brother."
And I screamed in joy and my two best friends and I fell to the floor, and the three of us were laughing so hard that we were crying. And I thought that I would never in my life feel so much joy. It was a baby that lived, and my mom was okay, and everything was okay this time. And that is how my brother Matt came into my life.

One year ago today, I was waiting.
I was at work, and I had my hand on my cell phone almost all day. If I was in a meeting I turned it down to vibrate and still kept my hand on my phone. And suddenly, again, something happened. My phone vibrated. I stepped out of a meeting and answered my phone.

And it was my brother Matt.
"It's on like Donkey Kong."

And that's how I found out that my beautiful niece Madison was about to make her entrance into the world.

Happy Birthday Beautiful Girl.
In all of eternity there will never be another you.
Fearlessly be yourself.

I too am embarrassed for ASTORNOMY - and the writer of the article

I lifted this directly off of SPACE.COM....I promise, I do my own Typo's I don't insert them into other people's poorly written articles.........

Pluto Demoted: No Longer a Planet in Highly Controversial Definition By Robert Roy BrittSenior Science Writerposted: 24 August 200609:35 am ET
UPDATED 11:17 a.m.
Capping years of intense debate, astronomers resolved today to demote Pluto in a wholesale redefinition of planethood that is being billed as a victory of scientific reasoning over historic and cultural influences. But already the decision is being hotly debated.
Officially, Pluto is no longer a planet.
"Pluto is dead," said Caltech researcher Mike Brown, who spoke with reporters via a teleconference while monitoring the vote. The decision also means a Pluto-sized object that Brown discovered will not be called a planet.
"Pluto is not a planet," Brown said. "There are finally, officially, eight planets in the solar system."
The vote involved just 424 astronomers who remained for the last day of a meeting of the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in Prague.
"I'm embarassed for astornomy," said Alan Stern, leader of NASA's New Horizon's mission to Pluto and a scientist at the Southwest Research Institute. "Less than 5 percent of the world's astronomers voted."
"This definition stinks, for technical reasons," Stern told SPACE.com. He expects the astronomy community to overturn the decision. Other astronomers criticized the definition as ambiguous.


I would also like to go on record on my own blog that I blame Holst for this whole mess. Sarah points out that he didn't write EARTH either......but I figure we HAVE music. He was writing music for planets that NEEDED some music. If there had been a PLUTO in THE PLANETS, and it was famous like MARS and getting played in MOVIES and shit they wouldn't make it a NONPLANET. The wouldn't say "Oh tonight they're performing PLUTO from the Nonplanets Suite by Holst".
I blame Holst, I tell you.

I too am embarrassed for ASTORNOMY - and the writer of the article

I lifted this directly off of SPACE.COM....I promise, I do my own Typo's I don't insert them into other people's poorly written articles.........

Pluto Demoted: No Longer a Planet in Highly Controversial Definition By Robert Roy BrittSenior Science Writerposted: 24 August 200609:35 am ET
UPDATED 11:17 a.m.
Capping years of intense debate, astronomers resolved today to demote Pluto in a wholesale redefinition of planethood that is being billed as a victory of scientific reasoning over historic and cultural influences. But already the decision is being hotly debated.
Officially, Pluto is no longer a planet.
"Pluto is dead," said Caltech researcher Mike Brown, who spoke with reporters via a teleconference while monitoring the vote. The decision also means a Pluto-sized object that Brown discovered will not be called a planet.
"Pluto is not a planet," Brown said. "There are finally, officially, eight planets in the solar system."
The vote involved just 424 astronomers who remained for the last day of a meeting of the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in Prague.
"I'm embarassed for astornomy," said Alan Stern, leader of NASA's New Horizon's mission to Pluto and a scientist at the Southwest Research Institute. "Less than 5 percent of the world's astronomers voted."
"This definition stinks, for technical reasons," Stern told SPACE.com. He expects the astronomy community to overturn the decision. Other astronomers criticized the definition as ambiguous.


I would also like to go on record on my own blog that I blame Holst for this whole mess. Sarah points out that he didn't write EARTH either......but I figure we HAVE music. He was writing music for planets that NEEDED some music. If there had been a PLUTO in THE PLANETS, and it was famous like MARS and getting played in MOVIES and shit they wouldn't make it a NONPLANET. The wouldn't say "Oh tonight they're performing PLUTO from the Nonplanets Suite by Holst".
I blame Holst, I tell you.

Failure

 

This is pretty funny….

 

 

1- Go to www.Google.com

 

2- Type in Failure

 

3- Look at the first listing and laugh at what comes up first

 

4- Tell other people before the people at Google Fix it  

 

 

I'm not sure why it works........but it made me giggle.  Thanks Fred! 

Failure

 

This is pretty funny….

 

 

1- Go to www.Google.com

 

2- Type in Failure

 

3- Look at the first listing and laugh at what comes up first

 

4- Tell other people before the people at Google Fix it  

 

 

I'm not sure why it works........but it made me giggle.  Thanks Fred! 

What's With All the Damn Swearing?

I had actually been thinking about this for a while, but the Queen put it further into my mind. What IS with all the damn swearing? Man, do we all swear a lot or what?
I remember when I didn't swear. I was probably a freshman in high school before I really made the foray into the occasional swear. I found that a well placed FUCK YOU or SUCK IT, especially to people who had been my tormentors in middle school was quite powerful. Even more powerful, I'd pull out the C word. That's right. You heard me.
The C word. I'd fling it at you, evil-doer. And in 1984........you would crumble.
I clubbed some British ladies with the C word in the late 90s when they tried to take the cab from me and my then boyfriend (now husband). I not only attacked them with the C word, I actually called them Limey Cunts. Bigotry AND swearing -all in one insult.
In the 90s I worked with a lady who used profanity in such a prolific way that it was frankly unsettling. I liked her, still do, but MAN would she swear. In meetings, without regard for HR issues. FEARLESSLY. It didn't make her a better manager or better at her job, but it made her fearsome and bold - at least to the onlooker.
I'm a Mom, and I definitely swear as though my choice of swearwords are some additional punctuation in my sentences. I do swear at work but behind closed doors, and I have tried to curb it at home (pretty unsuccessfully). But man, when DID it become so prevalent that even MY 60 YEAR OLD MOTHER will drop the F bomb when it suits her.
It doesn't even offend me. It doesn't shock, it doesn't surprise, I'm not sure what it does. Does it empower? Does it make us like men? Did men talk like this for the last two hundred years and it just didn't make it into the penny novels?

Or is it continued evidence of the decline of civilization? Since I don't particularly buy INTO the theory of the decline of civilzation, I suspect that's not it. But it is evidence of change. It's the language of adults - as I would whip the butt of my kids for speaking this way. Does that mean I think it's wrong, or just not for them - in much the same way I don't think sex is wrong but right now, it's not for them.

So I will continue to wonder, in the vernacular........what the fuck?

What's With All the Damn Swearing?

I had actually been thinking about this for a while, but the Queen put it further into my mind. What IS with all the damn swearing? Man, do we all swear a lot or what?
I remember when I didn't swear. I was probably a freshman in high school before I really made the foray into the occasional swear. I found that a well placed FUCK YOU or SUCK IT, especially to people who had been my tormentors in middle school was quite powerful. Even more powerful, I'd pull out the C word. That's right. You heard me.
The C word. I'd fling it at you, evil-doer. And in 1984........you would crumble.
I clubbed some British ladies with the C word in the late 90s when they tried to take the cab from me and my then boyfriend (now husband). I not only attacked them with the C word, I actually called them Limey Cunts. Bigotry AND swearing -all in one insult.
In the 90s I worked with a lady who used profanity in such a prolific way that it was frankly unsettling. I liked her, still do, but MAN would she swear. In meetings, without regard for HR issues. FEARLESSLY. It didn't make her a better manager or better at her job, but it made her fearsome and bold - at least to the onlooker.
I'm a Mom, and I definitely swear as though my choice of swearwords are some additional punctuation in my sentences. I do swear at work but behind closed doors, and I have tried to curb it at home (pretty unsuccessfully). But man, when DID it become so prevalent that even MY 60 YEAR OLD MOTHER will drop the F bomb when it suits her.
It doesn't even offend me. It doesn't shock, it doesn't surprise, I'm not sure what it does. Does it empower? Does it make us like men? Did men talk like this for the last two hundred years and it just didn't make it into the penny novels?

Or is it continued evidence of the decline of civilization? Since I don't particularly buy INTO the theory of the decline of civilzation, I suspect that's not it. But it is evidence of change. It's the language of adults - as I would whip the butt of my kids for speaking this way. Does that mean I think it's wrong, or just not for them - in much the same way I don't think sex is wrong but right now, it's not for them.

So I will continue to wonder, in the vernacular........what the fuck?

MORE SNAKES ON A PLANE

Okay not really, but we had a snake loose in my office the other day. A random snake that it took forever to find after it slithered around someone's desktop.
I was telling people it was our corporate HOMAGE to the opening of SNAKES ON A PLANE (TOMORROW PEOPLE!)
My friend mocked this bad boy up to commemorate the event...... GOOD JOB TIM! That was money WELL SPENT AT ROSE HULMAN! (heehee)

MORE SNAKES ON A PLANE

Okay not really, but we had a snake loose in my office the other day. A random snake that it took forever to find after it slithered around someone's desktop.
I was telling people it was our corporate HOMAGE to the opening of SNAKES ON A PLANE (TOMORROW PEOPLE!)
My friend mocked this bad boy up to commemorate the event...... GOOD JOB TIM! That was money WELL SPENT AT ROSE HULMAN! (heehee)

Behind an Angry Native American

Being from the midwest where there aren't a lot of Native Americans about, I'm not really used to encountering them, in traffic or otherwise. I can pretty much guarantee you that if I know you and you are Native American, it's possible I don't realize it. I don't mean this as a sort of a slight or disrespect - I'm just not terribly good at compartmentalizing people, especially people I'm not that familiar with. I probably think you are foreign - which is obviously not right.
Today in traffic I found myself behind a van that was rife with bumper stickers. I am a bumper sticker reader so I inched up in rush hour non-moving traffic to have a read.
*Custer got Sioux'd* - okay, that was sort of funny. I try to remember if it WAS actually the Sioux.......find I have no idea and move on to the next one.
*America - Love it Or Leave* - that's strange, okay.......
*This land is not your land, this land is OURS*......oh....I get it
*In 1492 a bunch of Native Americans Found Columbus Lost at Sea*....I ponder whether we are supposed to refer to the original inhabitants of Hispaniola as Native Americans, find I don't know the answer to that EITHER - what ARE we supposed to call them? .......
and then I realize that this guy is pissed off.
At me.
For being here.
I am pretty much in touch with the fact that people in other countries are pissed off that America exists. For one reason or another.
But it caught me off guard to feel like, in traffic during rush hour, I'm behind someone who might just hate me. Just because.
I felt pretty bad. Seriously, BUMPER STICKERS gave me white guilt. I wanted to pull up and say "Hey gee, I'm really sorry I know you're pissed off and I can't fix it but I wanted to say I'm SORRY.", but of course I didn't. But by then I realized that I had pulled up beside him and was STARING.
AT
THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL
NATIVE AMERICAN
I HAVE EVER SEEN

This guy could have been on the cover of any BODICE RIPPER romance novel. He made Fabio look like a hobo. He had the long, wavy black hair, the big ripply muscles bursting out of his sleeveless shirt.
And he was grinning at me.
He waved bye when the light turned green and I turned left and he was gone.

I'm not sure now which was more disconcerting, the bumper stickers or his incredible hotness at 8am.

Clearly I'm not up for either thing at that time of day.

Behind an Angry Native American

Being from the midwest where there aren't a lot of Native Americans about, I'm not really used to encountering them, in traffic or otherwise. I can pretty much guarantee you that if I know you and you are Native American, it's possible I don't realize it. I don't mean this as a sort of a slight or disrespect - I'm just not terribly good at compartmentalizing people, especially people I'm not that familiar with. I probably think you are foreign - which is obviously not right.
Today in traffic I found myself behind a van that was rife with bumper stickers. I am a bumper sticker reader so I inched up in rush hour non-moving traffic to have a read.
*Custer got Sioux'd* - okay, that was sort of funny. I try to remember if it WAS actually the Sioux.......find I have no idea and move on to the next one.
*America - Love it Or Leave* - that's strange, okay.......
*This land is not your land, this land is OURS*......oh....I get it
*In 1492 a bunch of Native Americans Found Columbus Lost at Sea*....I ponder whether we are supposed to refer to the original inhabitants of Hispaniola as Native Americans, find I don't know the answer to that EITHER - what ARE we supposed to call them? .......
and then I realize that this guy is pissed off.
At me.
For being here.
I am pretty much in touch with the fact that people in other countries are pissed off that America exists. For one reason or another.
But it caught me off guard to feel like, in traffic during rush hour, I'm behind someone who might just hate me. Just because.
I felt pretty bad. Seriously, BUMPER STICKERS gave me white guilt. I wanted to pull up and say "Hey gee, I'm really sorry I know you're pissed off and I can't fix it but I wanted to say I'm SORRY.", but of course I didn't. But by then I realized that I had pulled up beside him and was STARING.
AT
THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL
NATIVE AMERICAN
I HAVE EVER SEEN

This guy could have been on the cover of any BODICE RIPPER romance novel. He made Fabio look like a hobo. He had the long, wavy black hair, the big ripply muscles bursting out of his sleeveless shirt.
And he was grinning at me.
He waved bye when the light turned green and I turned left and he was gone.

I'm not sure now which was more disconcerting, the bumper stickers or his incredible hotness at 8am.

Clearly I'm not up for either thing at that time of day.

One Advantage of Having a Large Family

You have an excuse to make a huge vat of WORMS IN THE DIRT and no one thinks you're just being a fatty.

One Advantage of Having a Large Family

You have an excuse to make a huge vat of WORMS IN THE DIRT and no one thinks you're just being a fatty.

Also in the google searches

I also seem to feature prominently in the BUTTHOLE FETISH search......seems I was referring to Sarah back in July 2005.

Good Times.

Also in the google searches

I also seem to feature prominently in the BUTTHOLE FETISH search......seems I was referring to Sarah back in July 2005.

Good Times.

Coffee Pots and Hand Me Downs

First off - someone hit my blog by googling "Celine Dion crying about her son."
Ummmm, what? I feel fairly certain I have NEVER blogged anything about Celine Dion, although I will confess that she does have some song about her son that makes me cry, probably because it makes me think about how happy I was to be pregnant after having been infertile for five years......REGARDLESS.......I'm not a fan so that confuses me terribly.

But I digress.
So today I have just two things to share.
One - I have a cheap ass coffee pot. It's a SUNBEAM WalMart Special that cost me about 7.88 probably five years ago (I have the matching toaster, ROCK). It is SO cheap that it doesn't have a LIGHTED on off switch, and the letters have long since rubbed off, so I'm never completely SURE which way on or off is. We leave it unplugged for this reason. So to make coffee, I plug it in, fill it up, load up the coffee and flip the switch. If it doesn't do anything for a while, I flip it the other way. This usually works just fine. But this morning, nursing a very slight beer headache (I only had two, but they were BIG) from the Reggae Sun Splash (the traveling version of course) I was stumped.
I plugged it in. I flipped the switch. Nothing happened. I SWEAR I flipped the switch again. I unplugged it and plugged it into the other outlet. Nothing. I flipped the switch again. Nothing. Then it occurred to me. That last time I had flipped it twice. On/Off - it seems. I pressed the switch. And waited. And waited. And suddenly little Satchmo cries out "THERE IT GOES!" Oh bless heavan.
Coffee. You'd think someone who works for a gourmet coffee company would bother to pick up a decent coffee pot...........alas.....

Next subject.....
Hand Me downs. When I grew up, I was the first grandchild on both sides and the oldest kid (pretty much) of all of my parents friends. I didn't GET hand me downs, I gave them. I would actually get sort of annoyed sometimes when some people would see my new clothes and say "oooo I can't wait to GET THIS!"...it would make me mad. Very childish, but then, I was a child.
I always sort of had a negative vibe about hand me downs, I don't know why. I'm not too good for them. Just something about them...they seemed grubby. Until I had kids.
When I put either of the little ones in something my big guy used to wear.......my heart swells. I remember him in it. I remember somewhere we went, something we did. If it was a special outfit - how I saved it back for that special day so that it didn't get stained or messed up. Today I put the Little Birth of Cool in this Clifford shirt and shorts that my oldest wore to Andy's second birthday party, because it was a Clifford Theme. Jammies that I remember putting on and snuggly him close, I put them on the little guys and seriously it makes me teary.
I love hand me downs.

Coffee Pots and Hand Me Downs

First off - someone hit my blog by googling "Celine Dion crying about her son."
Ummmm, what? I feel fairly certain I have NEVER blogged anything about Celine Dion, although I will confess that she does have some song about her son that makes me cry, probably because it makes me think about how happy I was to be pregnant after having been infertile for five years......REGARDLESS.......I'm not a fan so that confuses me terribly.

But I digress.
So today I have just two things to share.
One - I have a cheap ass coffee pot. It's a SUNBEAM WalMart Special that cost me about 7.88 probably five years ago (I have the matching toaster, ROCK). It is SO cheap that it doesn't have a LIGHTED on off switch, and the letters have long since rubbed off, so I'm never completely SURE which way on or off is. We leave it unplugged for this reason. So to make coffee, I plug it in, fill it up, load up the coffee and flip the switch. If it doesn't do anything for a while, I flip it the other way. This usually works just fine. But this morning, nursing a very slight beer headache (I only had two, but they were BIG) from the Reggae Sun Splash (the traveling version of course) I was stumped.
I plugged it in. I flipped the switch. Nothing happened. I SWEAR I flipped the switch again. I unplugged it and plugged it into the other outlet. Nothing. I flipped the switch again. Nothing. Then it occurred to me. That last time I had flipped it twice. On/Off - it seems. I pressed the switch. And waited. And waited. And suddenly little Satchmo cries out "THERE IT GOES!" Oh bless heavan.
Coffee. You'd think someone who works for a gourmet coffee company would bother to pick up a decent coffee pot...........alas.....

Next subject.....
Hand Me downs. When I grew up, I was the first grandchild on both sides and the oldest kid (pretty much) of all of my parents friends. I didn't GET hand me downs, I gave them. I would actually get sort of annoyed sometimes when some people would see my new clothes and say "oooo I can't wait to GET THIS!"...it would make me mad. Very childish, but then, I was a child.
I always sort of had a negative vibe about hand me downs, I don't know why. I'm not too good for them. Just something about them...they seemed grubby. Until I had kids.
When I put either of the little ones in something my big guy used to wear.......my heart swells. I remember him in it. I remember somewhere we went, something we did. If it was a special outfit - how I saved it back for that special day so that it didn't get stained or messed up. Today I put the Little Birth of Cool in this Clifford shirt and shorts that my oldest wore to Andy's second birthday party, because it was a Clifford Theme. Jammies that I remember putting on and snuggly him close, I put them on the little guys and seriously it makes me teary.
I love hand me downs.

PARENTOPIA NEEDS YOU!

I was a crackwhore who used to drink blood by the light of the moon until Parentopia showed me the light.

Okay, that's a lie. I was never a crackwhore.

But Parentopia is looking for a slogan so if you are witty or otherwise inclined, please stop over there to share what your ideas are. There are prizes!!

That's RIGHT people, I SAID PRIZES! Get on it!!

I strongly encourage slogans that rhyme. I feel certain they like rhymes over there.

PARENTOPIA NEEDS YOU!

I was a crackwhore who used to drink blood by the light of the moon until Parentopia showed me the light.

Okay, that's a lie. I was never a crackwhore.

But Parentopia is looking for a slogan so if you are witty or otherwise inclined, please stop over there to share what your ideas are. There are prizes!!

That's RIGHT people, I SAID PRIZES! Get on it!!

I strongly encourage slogans that rhyme. I feel certain they like rhymes over there.

Hacking At The Cord

My oldest is hacking at the cord. It's killing me a little. Where is the line between pushing the baby bird out of the nest and keeping him swaddled and wrapped up in your arms?
Apparently right at close to four years old.
While he's been potty trained for several months, and very succesfully - I mean MAN he did a good job when he set his mind to it (and good job to Dad too) - we've had him still sleeping in his diaper every night "just in case". He has never wet the diaper. He peed his pants a few times here or there, he once fell asleep and peed his pants but you know....actually in the diaper? Never. So when he started asking me a few nights ago "Can I please go to bed without a diaper now? I'm a big boy." I wanted to faint. No diaper? But....ummm, you sleep with me. What if you pee on me? I have an expensive memory foam mattress pad that would be ruined if you pee on it. And if you don't wear a diaper.......then, then, you....you AREN'T MY BABY ANYMORE. I played it off that I needed to talk to Dad......because I just didn't want to make the call. So I finally talked to the marital partner and he says "Well yeah sure.....".
Gasp.
No Diaper.

And then there was this morning. After I dressed him he walks over to me very seriously and says "Mommy, I have to tell you something. When you are at work I put on my own clothes. Daddy let's me dress myself because I am a big boy now. I can do it myself."
What? YOU CAN DRESS YOURSELF?

We had to take the clothes off so that he could proudly dress himself (okay the shirt went on backwards).

First he dresses himself, and now tonight he'll snuggle up next to me with no diaper.
What the hell is going on today.

I am not ready for my baby bird to make such big steps. I never thought I would have issues with progress - and in fairness I would never slow down his development, I'm so very proud of him.

But it will tear at my heart even as proud as I will be of him for going to sleep with no diaper. I remember when I worried how I would be able to carry him because he was so heavy (at almost 10 pounds). I remember how he used to call me the MaDaddy. And now he dresses himself and doesn't pee the bed.

We must be doing something right.

Hacking At The Cord

My oldest is hacking at the cord. It's killing me a little. Where is the line between pushing the baby bird out of the nest and keeping him swaddled and wrapped up in your arms?
Apparently right at close to four years old.
While he's been potty trained for several months, and very succesfully - I mean MAN he did a good job when he set his mind to it (and good job to Dad too) - we've had him still sleeping in his diaper every night "just in case". He has never wet the diaper. He peed his pants a few times here or there, he once fell asleep and peed his pants but you know....actually in the diaper? Never. So when he started asking me a few nights ago "Can I please go to bed without a diaper now? I'm a big boy." I wanted to faint. No diaper? But....ummm, you sleep with me. What if you pee on me? I have an expensive memory foam mattress pad that would be ruined if you pee on it. And if you don't wear a diaper.......then, then, you....you AREN'T MY BABY ANYMORE. I played it off that I needed to talk to Dad......because I just didn't want to make the call. So I finally talked to the marital partner and he says "Well yeah sure.....".
Gasp.
No Diaper.

And then there was this morning. After I dressed him he walks over to me very seriously and says "Mommy, I have to tell you something. When you are at work I put on my own clothes. Daddy let's me dress myself because I am a big boy now. I can do it myself."
What? YOU CAN DRESS YOURSELF?

We had to take the clothes off so that he could proudly dress himself (okay the shirt went on backwards).

First he dresses himself, and now tonight he'll snuggle up next to me with no diaper.
What the hell is going on today.

I am not ready for my baby bird to make such big steps. I never thought I would have issues with progress - and in fairness I would never slow down his development, I'm so very proud of him.

But it will tear at my heart even as proud as I will be of him for going to sleep with no diaper. I remember when I worried how I would be able to carry him because he was so heavy (at almost 10 pounds). I remember how he used to call me the MaDaddy. And now he dresses himself and doesn't pee the bed.

We must be doing something right.

Zen and the Art of Taking Inventory

We're taking Inventory for the next two days where I work.
I love inventory.
Inventory is the most stress free my life gets once a year.
Everyone in my company hates inventory, because attendance is compulsory once you get on the list, and once you get on THE LIST you're on it for life.
They bitch because it's hot (think non-climate controlled warehouse in Florida in August.). It's long, we start at 7am and are on our feet all day long. We'll get done around 5ish. If we do a good job and there aren't any system problems we'll be done some time around 2 on Tuesday. If things go poorly it could last until Weds.
And I love it.
Why?
Because my job is one of responsibility. I love it, I do. But for two days I get this luxury of NO responsibility. Just an RF scanner gun, a small tote containing stickers and a pen and some scrap paper......and me. I'm a fast auditor (someone else goes in front of us and COUNTS and then we go behind them and audit the count/re-count) and I enter those numbers into the RF gun, which enters them into our inventory system. I putz up and down the aisles alone (if they pair a newbie with them, I am sorry but I ditch them, I don't want idle chatter with some random person or to explain WHY I don't have to count every single bin - SOME numbers can be eyeballed after all)and I don't talk to anyone. I sing. I sing Pearl Jam and the Smiths (the Unhappy Birthday song seems to annoy people alot) and I sing Guns and Rose and Korn and Willie Nelson and Elvis or the Information Soceity......I run the gamut. I sing and I audit and I walk around up and down the aisles looking for spots where there are not any people to work.
I will get hot and I will get dirty. Twice during the day someone will walk up and down the aisles shouting BREAK TIME....and I will go to break and sit in the break room drinking water and just listen to whatever random tales of nothing that someone is telling.....and I will not say a word. I will smile and nod appropriately and get more water and then when someone calls BREAK OVER I will go back into the warehosue and start counting.
When it is lunch time I'll go get in line when I'm told to, and I'll eat quietly, I might talk a little about the progress of the count, and how far off the variances are but that's about all. I will eat more food than the food NAZI says is allowed but I'm a Director so she won't say a word. If other people want more food I'll go up and get that food for them, applying the say rule as above. (Last year she was insisting that people who had worked in a 110 degree whse could only have one slice of pizza as food for lunch, I am afraid I disagreed with that).

It is the most peaceful two days of my year at work. I could audit the entire warehouse myself I swear, if they wouldn't mind how long it took me.

Inventory rocks.

Zen and the Art of Taking Inventory

We're taking Inventory for the next two days where I work.
I love inventory.
Inventory is the most stress free my life gets once a year.
Everyone in my company hates inventory, because attendance is compulsory once you get on the list, and once you get on THE LIST you're on it for life.
They bitch because it's hot (think non-climate controlled warehouse in Florida in August.). It's long, we start at 7am and are on our feet all day long. We'll get done around 5ish. If we do a good job and there aren't any system problems we'll be done some time around 2 on Tuesday. If things go poorly it could last until Weds.
And I love it.
Why?
Because my job is one of responsibility. I love it, I do. But for two days I get this luxury of NO responsibility. Just an RF scanner gun, a small tote containing stickers and a pen and some scrap paper......and me. I'm a fast auditor (someone else goes in front of us and COUNTS and then we go behind them and audit the count/re-count) and I enter those numbers into the RF gun, which enters them into our inventory system. I putz up and down the aisles alone (if they pair a newbie with them, I am sorry but I ditch them, I don't want idle chatter with some random person or to explain WHY I don't have to count every single bin - SOME numbers can be eyeballed after all)and I don't talk to anyone. I sing. I sing Pearl Jam and the Smiths (the Unhappy Birthday song seems to annoy people alot) and I sing Guns and Rose and Korn and Willie Nelson and Elvis or the Information Soceity......I run the gamut. I sing and I audit and I walk around up and down the aisles looking for spots where there are not any people to work.
I will get hot and I will get dirty. Twice during the day someone will walk up and down the aisles shouting BREAK TIME....and I will go to break and sit in the break room drinking water and just listen to whatever random tales of nothing that someone is telling.....and I will not say a word. I will smile and nod appropriately and get more water and then when someone calls BREAK OVER I will go back into the warehosue and start counting.
When it is lunch time I'll go get in line when I'm told to, and I'll eat quietly, I might talk a little about the progress of the count, and how far off the variances are but that's about all. I will eat more food than the food NAZI says is allowed but I'm a Director so she won't say a word. If other people want more food I'll go up and get that food for them, applying the say rule as above. (Last year she was insisting that people who had worked in a 110 degree whse could only have one slice of pizza as food for lunch, I am afraid I disagreed with that).

It is the most peaceful two days of my year at work. I could audit the entire warehouse myself I swear, if they wouldn't mind how long it took me.

Inventory rocks.

A Week Of Friends!

It's pretty cool when you get to see people you really like on a regular basis. We used to see the people we liked at school. Go to school, your friends are there. Work can be like that but I have the added caveat of being the boss.......so it's tougher. There are some friends there, but I can't roll up in there going "OH MAN I GOT SO PLASTERED LAST NIGHT LISTEN TO WHAT I DID" ....you know, a little decorum is required. I have to at least whisper if I'm telling that story.
But I have friends who I don't work with that I love to see. One of them flew in on a jet plane and made time in his busy tittybar/convention - trade show thing schedule......and it was wonderful to see you. I miss you! You are still my favorite Kentuckian. I think next time you come we have to migrate someplace near the water for visiting......after all, you are in Florida, you would probably like to see the ocean, eh? I think I take it for granted too much - so sorry.
This weekend I'm doing a big river tubing adventure with my local friends. Four hours floating down a river on a big tube.
Being the WHITEST person in Florida I'm expecting to burst into flame about 30 minutes into the thing. Any stories of spontaneous human combustion in Florida are probably relating to me.
Okay it's midnight. I have to get up at 6am. I haven't packed. I haven't gotten my shit together. I should probably get off of here and get jiggy with it.

A Week Of Friends!

It's pretty cool when you get to see people you really like on a regular basis. We used to see the people we liked at school. Go to school, your friends are there. Work can be like that but I have the added caveat of being the boss.......so it's tougher. There are some friends there, but I can't roll up in there going "OH MAN I GOT SO PLASTERED LAST NIGHT LISTEN TO WHAT I DID" ....you know, a little decorum is required. I have to at least whisper if I'm telling that story.
But I have friends who I don't work with that I love to see. One of them flew in on a jet plane and made time in his busy tittybar/convention - trade show thing schedule......and it was wonderful to see you. I miss you! You are still my favorite Kentuckian. I think next time you come we have to migrate someplace near the water for visiting......after all, you are in Florida, you would probably like to see the ocean, eh? I think I take it for granted too much - so sorry.
This weekend I'm doing a big river tubing adventure with my local friends. Four hours floating down a river on a big tube.
Being the WHITEST person in Florida I'm expecting to burst into flame about 30 minutes into the thing. Any stories of spontaneous human combustion in Florida are probably relating to me.
Okay it's midnight. I have to get up at 6am. I haven't packed. I haven't gotten my shit together. I should probably get off of here and get jiggy with it.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!

You know, it was a quiet evening until I received this from Kristine. Oh yes, I was just MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS........but well, some of you know. Because shortly after I got this, Samuel L. Jackson started calling and emailing my friends.
I certainly hope he calls you and some of your friends.

I think that this movie will now be a wild success because of their silly internet marketing gimmick. I know me and some of my friends are now going.....because well, we don't want to piss off Sam.

Only one friend hasn't confirmed for me that he received this phone call from Sam Jackson and Scott H from Lexington you know you got one.......you're just too cool to call me back about it, aren't you? I seriously spent like an hour sending that thing off to people.

I was absolutely slaying myself sending it off.

If you need to release some tension.........send that bad boy out to a few people.
It's good times.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!

You know, it was a quiet evening until I received this from Kristine. Oh yes, I was just MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS........but well, some of you know. Because shortly after I got this, Samuel L. Jackson started calling and emailing my friends.
I certainly hope he calls you and some of your friends.

I think that this movie will now be a wild success because of their silly internet marketing gimmick. I know me and some of my friends are now going.....because well, we don't want to piss off Sam.

Only one friend hasn't confirmed for me that he received this phone call from Sam Jackson and Scott H from Lexington you know you got one.......you're just too cool to call me back about it, aren't you? I seriously spent like an hour sending that thing off to people.

I was absolutely slaying myself sending it off.

If you need to release some tension.........send that bad boy out to a few people.
It's good times.

But am I really Supposed to be afraid of CHRIS?

HERE COMES THE RAIN AGAIN.......

But am I really Supposed to be afraid of CHRIS?

HERE COMES THE RAIN AGAIN.......

In Memoriam......

of the three pounds that I lost at WW when I weighed in today!

YIPPEEE!!!!!

That calls for some chocolate.......right?

In Memoriam......

of the three pounds that I lost at WW when I weighed in today!

YIPPEEE!!!!!

That calls for some chocolate.......right?