Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Told Ya So!
As per my prediction, school was cancelled today. Unfortunately, work was not so here I am. At work. In the snow. It's a hard life.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Keys, Coupons, and Snow
I borrowed a car from my sister's boyfriend. Sissy's car is down and will not be ready until the weekend. IF the necessary parts can be found. My Dodge is on it's way to the auction lot. My replacement car is in the process of being transferred from another state. If I like this vehicle, a Toyota Rav4, I will be purchasing it. It will take 1 to 2 weeks for the new car to arrive. So I have NO working car of my own right now.
That's fine. It was very generous of "L" to loan me his favorite vehicle. When he turned the car over to me, he was even considerate enough to show me where everything is and how everything works in his car.
Last night was a school night. When I get to school, I gather up my notebook, textbook, and various other crap that I can't remember right now. I go to the classroom to drop off my stuff and then head to the computer lab. Midway to the computer lab, I had a strange thought. "Where are the car keys?". I start digging through my purse and can't find them. I go back to the classroom to see if I have left them there. Nope. No keys. I walk back out to the car and peer in the passenger side window, where I see the keys dangling from the ignition. And the car is locked. And I don't happen to have an extra set handy. And I am in "the big city" (Nashville) where I don't happen to know any of the local locksmiths.
Great. "L" lets me borrow his car and I lock the keys in it . The very first day I drive the car! Joy happy days. Luckily the security guard was nice enough to get a phone book and call a locksmith for me.
To the best of my recollection, I have NEVER locked my keys in the car. It would happen when I am driving a car that belongs to someone else. There was this one time when Sissy was about three, we went to the carwash to vacuum out my car. While I was cleaning the car, Sissy threw my keys in the dirty, disgusting, carwash trash can. Which I had to fish out. With my bare hands. I didn't happen to have any gloves handy.
In other news.........Sissy was making fun of me because I am on this money saving kick. I clipped coupons this weekend, and used some of them tonight at the grocery store. I was pleasantly surprised to find coupons for stuff that I actually buy. I was bragging to her that I saved 76 cents on paper towels. She laughed at me and said, "What are you going to buy with your 76 cents? A pack of gum?". I told her that it may not seem like much now, but over the course of a year I could save 100 bucks. I also told her that when I used that money to treat myself to a nice dinner or something, that SHE is not invited. What a traitor.
In other, other news.......it's snowing here. Not much right now, but by four in the morning, we could see accumulations of up to 1 inch. That's right. It's not a typo, 1 inch. With a blizzard such as this, school will probably be shutdown. (I am not kidding). Here in the south, we do things a little differently. Here are some rules for snowy weather in the south:
1. If there is a chance of snow, you should immediately drive to the grocery store in a panic and purchase milk and bread. (I don't understand the concept behind this rule, yet this is what happens. Everyone runs out to buy milk and bread)
2. As mentioned above, you can count on the schools closing down, no matter the expected accumulation amount.
3. This is a very important rule, which should not be overlooked-Don't try to drive anywhere. While your driving skills in the snow are probably far superior, you can count on there being plenty of people on the roads who have NO IDEA how to drive in snow. It' s not our fault, we just don't get enough snow here for ANYONE to really know how to drive properly in the snow.
4. Discuss the snow and cold weather with everyone you come in contact with. You should say things like, "I can't believe how cold it is, just yesterday it was 50 degrees". You should also relay a story about how when you were a kid, there was big snow storm and you had to walk to school.
In keeping with rule #4, I will now relay a true story. In 1987, Greensboro, NC was hit with a foot of snow and sleet. A cold front came in and the temperatures stayed low. School was closed for two weeks. Two weeks. Our city did not have plowing trucks. We were poor and didn't have sleds, so we used my mother's baking sheets and trash can lids as sleds.
5. Peer out your window or door every few minutes to see if it is still snowing, and whether or not it's actually sticking to the ground or roads.
6. Assume that school will be closed and let your kids stay up late. This way, if school is not closed, they will be extra cranky the following morning.
7. Post pictures of the snow on your blog proving that you are indeed a blogging nut.
That's fine. It was very generous of "L" to loan me his favorite vehicle. When he turned the car over to me, he was even considerate enough to show me where everything is and how everything works in his car.
Last night was a school night. When I get to school, I gather up my notebook, textbook, and various other crap that I can't remember right now. I go to the classroom to drop off my stuff and then head to the computer lab. Midway to the computer lab, I had a strange thought. "Where are the car keys?". I start digging through my purse and can't find them. I go back to the classroom to see if I have left them there. Nope. No keys. I walk back out to the car and peer in the passenger side window, where I see the keys dangling from the ignition. And the car is locked. And I don't happen to have an extra set handy. And I am in "the big city" (Nashville) where I don't happen to know any of the local locksmiths.
Great. "L" lets me borrow his car and I lock the keys in it . The very first day I drive the car! Joy happy days. Luckily the security guard was nice enough to get a phone book and call a locksmith for me.
To the best of my recollection, I have NEVER locked my keys in the car. It would happen when I am driving a car that belongs to someone else. There was this one time when Sissy was about three, we went to the carwash to vacuum out my car. While I was cleaning the car, Sissy threw my keys in the dirty, disgusting, carwash trash can. Which I had to fish out. With my bare hands. I didn't happen to have any gloves handy.
In other news.........Sissy was making fun of me because I am on this money saving kick. I clipped coupons this weekend, and used some of them tonight at the grocery store. I was pleasantly surprised to find coupons for stuff that I actually buy. I was bragging to her that I saved 76 cents on paper towels. She laughed at me and said, "What are you going to buy with your 76 cents? A pack of gum?". I told her that it may not seem like much now, but over the course of a year I could save 100 bucks. I also told her that when I used that money to treat myself to a nice dinner or something, that SHE is not invited. What a traitor.
In other, other news.......it's snowing here. Not much right now, but by four in the morning, we could see accumulations of up to 1 inch. That's right. It's not a typo, 1 inch. With a blizzard such as this, school will probably be shutdown. (I am not kidding). Here in the south, we do things a little differently. Here are some rules for snowy weather in the south:
1. If there is a chance of snow, you should immediately drive to the grocery store in a panic and purchase milk and bread. (I don't understand the concept behind this rule, yet this is what happens. Everyone runs out to buy milk and bread)
2. As mentioned above, you can count on the schools closing down, no matter the expected accumulation amount.
3. This is a very important rule, which should not be overlooked-Don't try to drive anywhere. While your driving skills in the snow are probably far superior, you can count on there being plenty of people on the roads who have NO IDEA how to drive in snow. It' s not our fault, we just don't get enough snow here for ANYONE to really know how to drive properly in the snow.
4. Discuss the snow and cold weather with everyone you come in contact with. You should say things like, "I can't believe how cold it is, just yesterday it was 50 degrees". You should also relay a story about how when you were a kid, there was big snow storm and you had to walk to school.
In keeping with rule #4, I will now relay a true story. In 1987, Greensboro, NC was hit with a foot of snow and sleet. A cold front came in and the temperatures stayed low. School was closed for two weeks. Two weeks. Our city did not have plowing trucks. We were poor and didn't have sleds, so we used my mother's baking sheets and trash can lids as sleds.
5. Peer out your window or door every few minutes to see if it is still snowing, and whether or not it's actually sticking to the ground or roads.
6. Assume that school will be closed and let your kids stay up late. This way, if school is not closed, they will be extra cranky the following morning.
7. Post pictures of the snow on your blog proving that you are indeed a blogging nut.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Let The Shower Begin
I was too exhausted to blog yesterday after the baby shower. My day started at 7:30 am. On a Saturday. This was tragic, but I knew I had to get up early so that I could finish running around my house like a mad woman making sure my house was not a complete and total embarrassment. I THINK I succeeded. I didn't have time to get my room and the master bathroom cleaned. I figured that was fine. After all, no one needed to be in those rooms anyway. Right? Wrong! I'll get to that.
Marlette showed up around 10. I think. We began getting food ready and hanging up the decorations. After a while Dejah, the star of the show called. I am going to relay this story to the best of my abilities. She hasn't been into blogging much lately so I will ghost write for her. Her day got off to a rotten start. Her boys decided that the day of her baby shower would be the perfect time to act like little hellions. After tolerating this behavior for quite a while, she snapped. The boys were punished. She had to stop and feed them, then drop them off at their dad's, then get her nails done, and finally head over to my house. Her original plan was to stop and get the boys a slushie and let them pick out what they wanted to eat. Due to their unruly behavior at home, SHE picked out their lunch and made them drink water.
It's perfect. I never would have thought of that. I get the principle though. She was not going to reward them with slushies for unacceptable behavior. After dropping them off and getting her nails done, she arrived at my house just around 1. I was worried that with all the morning drama she would be in a bad mood. I think she probably snapped out of it after she got rid of dropped off the boys.
So the shower got under way.
We wanted to have the baby's name put on the cake, but Dejah has not decided for sure on a name yet.
The first game we played was putting popsicle sticks between your knees and trying to drop them in a bucket. Whoever got the most popsicle sticks in a minute was the winner.
I am telling you, this is harder than it looks.
Of course the fun for Dejah is she didn't have to play. She could just sit and laugh at the rest of us.
This is off the subject, I don't know if you can see the hideous gray color on my wall. Dejah is a painter and has agreed to paint my living room. Hopefully before the baby is born, but only if she feels up to it.
We had a great time. Of course I love any excuse for a family gathering. We can't wait for the arrival of little Jacob?Connor?Paul?Graham?
Marlette showed up around 10. I think. We began getting food ready and hanging up the decorations. After a while Dejah, the star of the show called. I am going to relay this story to the best of my abilities. She hasn't been into blogging much lately so I will ghost write for her. Her day got off to a rotten start. Her boys decided that the day of her baby shower would be the perfect time to act like little hellions. After tolerating this behavior for quite a while, she snapped. The boys were punished. She had to stop and feed them, then drop them off at their dad's, then get her nails done, and finally head over to my house. Her original plan was to stop and get the boys a slushie and let them pick out what they wanted to eat. Due to their unruly behavior at home, SHE picked out their lunch and made them drink water.
It's perfect. I never would have thought of that. I get the principle though. She was not going to reward them with slushies for unacceptable behavior. After dropping them off and getting her nails done, she arrived at my house just around 1. I was worried that with all the morning drama she would be in a bad mood. I think she probably snapped out of it after she
So the shower got under way.
We wanted to have the baby's name put on the cake, but Dejah has not decided for sure on a name yet.
The first game we played was putting popsicle sticks between your knees and trying to drop them in a bucket. Whoever got the most popsicle sticks in a minute was the winner.
I am telling you, this is harder than it looks.
Of course the fun for Dejah is she didn't have to play. She could just sit and laugh at the rest of us.
This is off the subject, I don't know if you can see the hideous gray color on my wall. Dejah is a painter and has agreed to paint my living room. Hopefully before the baby is born, but only if she feels up to it.
We had a great time. Of course I love any excuse for a family gathering. We can't wait for the arrival of little Jacob?Connor?Paul?Graham?
Friday, February 22, 2008
I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar
It has been a full day. I started off the day determined to get the living room fit for company. I turned on the vacuum cleaner, and realized it wasn't picking up anything. After some investigation by me, the self proclaimed vacuum cleaner expert, I determined that there was a clog.
The first order of business was to find a screwdriver. Of course I couldn't find one anywhere. I looked in every drawer and cabinet in the entire house. I eventually found a flat head even though I needed a phillips. I got a couple of screws out then decided that trying to unscrew a screw with the wrong screwdriver was just no fun. Then I remembered that there was a power drill/screwdriver in my closet. I have NEVER used a power tool in my entire life.
I get out the power drill and spend about ten minutes figuring out how to work the thing. By this time, I was covered in dust and dirt from the clog I was trying to get out of the hose. It was ten in the morning and I was already filthy. I used the power drill to remove the rest of the screws and take the vacuum apart. I was amazed. What a wonderful invention! I don't think I will ever be able to use a regular screwdriver again.
I unclog the vacuum and very quickly got it put back together. By.Myself. I was so proud of this accomplishment. I was on cloud nine. I have attached a picture to document this historic occasion. Pay no attention to the dirt inside the vacuum. This may be the last thing I ever successfully fix on my own. I am an independent woman. I can fix some things by myself. I am woman, hear me roar.
Later I headed out to Wal-Mart to pick up a few more things for the baby shower. Namely, a carseat and stroller combo. Which I was able to heft into the buggy by myself. Not an easy task I have to say. I think I was able to pull it off due to a testosterone surge brought on by repairing the vacuum.
Once home, I resume my desperate attempts to get my house into a presentable state before tomorrow. As I cleaned, I just found more and more stuff to clean. I noticed that all my door frames were dirty. I cleaned those. I noticed some cobwebs in some of the corners. I cleaned those. I noticed that the vacuum cleaner does not clean the cracks where the carpet meets the baseboard. I cleaned the cracks. I noticed that EVERY.SINGLE.CABINET(AND DRAWER) in my entire house needs to be cleaned out. I did not tackle that. Even as crazed as I was, I realized I would never have time to finish a project like that.
After spending nearly an entire day in one room, I was exhausted. I didn't even start on the computer room, which is the first thing you see when you walk in the door, or my bathroom. The shower is tomorrow. How in the world am I going to find the time and energy to clean anymore? I don't know. To top it all off, Marlette is coming down with some kind of virus or something. Marlette is my helper.And she is sick. She is bringing most of the items needed for the shower. I told her if worse comes to worse, I can go out and get the last few things we need for the shower, such as a tablecloth, streamer, a banner, the cake, and the ingredients to make the punch. She insists that she will pull through. (Lord, please let her feel better tomorrow.Please. Please. )
I did get the presents from me wrapped. That's ONE good thing.
I also picked up a few blank DVD's while I was out. My plan is to burn some DVD's for my sister. I want her to have some chick flicks to watch while she is on maternity leave. After all, what's better for postpartum depression than sappy love stories? OK-let me set this up so you can really get the picture. I used a power tool this morning. I fixed a vacuum cleaner by myself. I toted a very heavy stroller and carseat by myself. Yet I find myself unable to open a package of DVD's. That's right. I have been trying to open the pack all evening off and on. I still can't get them open. It doesn't appear to be that difficult, I just can't seem to manage it. Which is really ironic if you think about it. I took a vacuum cleaner almost completely apart by myself, yet I can't open a plastic container of DVD's.
I have twisted and pulled. I have no idea how to get into the DVD's. That's what I get for feeling all good about the mechanical accomplishment of the day. Obviously, it does not pay to get cocky.
I am attaching the last picture of The DQ. For no other reason than I think it's cute.
The first order of business was to find a screwdriver. Of course I couldn't find one anywhere. I looked in every drawer and cabinet in the entire house. I eventually found a flat head even though I needed a phillips. I got a couple of screws out then decided that trying to unscrew a screw with the wrong screwdriver was just no fun. Then I remembered that there was a power drill/screwdriver in my closet. I have NEVER used a power tool in my entire life.
I get out the power drill and spend about ten minutes figuring out how to work the thing. By this time, I was covered in dust and dirt from the clog I was trying to get out of the hose. It was ten in the morning and I was already filthy. I used the power drill to remove the rest of the screws and take the vacuum apart. I was amazed. What a wonderful invention! I don't think I will ever be able to use a regular screwdriver again.
I unclog the vacuum and very quickly got it put back together. By.Myself. I was so proud of this accomplishment. I was on cloud nine. I have attached a picture to document this historic occasion. Pay no attention to the dirt inside the vacuum. This may be the last thing I ever successfully fix on my own. I am an independent woman. I can fix some things by myself. I am woman, hear me roar.
Later I headed out to Wal-Mart to pick up a few more things for the baby shower. Namely, a carseat and stroller combo. Which I was able to heft into the buggy by myself. Not an easy task I have to say. I think I was able to pull it off due to a testosterone surge brought on by repairing the vacuum.
Once home, I resume my desperate attempts to get my house into a presentable state before tomorrow. As I cleaned, I just found more and more stuff to clean. I noticed that all my door frames were dirty. I cleaned those. I noticed some cobwebs in some of the corners. I cleaned those. I noticed that the vacuum cleaner does not clean the cracks where the carpet meets the baseboard. I cleaned the cracks. I noticed that EVERY.SINGLE.CABINET(AND DRAWER) in my entire house needs to be cleaned out. I did not tackle that. Even as crazed as I was, I realized I would never have time to finish a project like that.
After spending nearly an entire day in one room, I was exhausted. I didn't even start on the computer room, which is the first thing you see when you walk in the door, or my bathroom. The shower is tomorrow. How in the world am I going to find the time and energy to clean anymore? I don't know. To top it all off, Marlette is coming down with some kind of virus or something. Marlette is my helper.And she is sick. She is bringing most of the items needed for the shower. I told her if worse comes to worse, I can go out and get the last few things we need for the shower, such as a tablecloth, streamer, a banner, the cake, and the ingredients to make the punch. She insists that she will pull through. (Lord, please let her feel better tomorrow.Please. Please. )
I did get the presents from me wrapped. That's ONE good thing.
I also picked up a few blank DVD's while I was out. My plan is to burn some DVD's for my sister. I want her to have some chick flicks to watch while she is on maternity leave. After all, what's better for postpartum depression than sappy love stories? OK-let me set this up so you can really get the picture. I used a power tool this morning. I fixed a vacuum cleaner by myself. I toted a very heavy stroller and carseat by myself. Yet I find myself unable to open a package of DVD's. That's right. I have been trying to open the pack all evening off and on. I still can't get them open. It doesn't appear to be that difficult, I just can't seem to manage it. Which is really ironic if you think about it. I took a vacuum cleaner almost completely apart by myself, yet I can't open a plastic container of DVD's.
I have twisted and pulled. I have no idea how to get into the DVD's. That's what I get for feeling all good about the mechanical accomplishment of the day. Obviously, it does not pay to get cocky.
I am attaching the last picture of The DQ. For no other reason than I think it's cute.
The Application
I recently had another first with my teenage daughter. Two punks boys picking up her and another friend to go bowling. I gave the standard spill about being careful with my daughter. I even made him show me his driver's license. My brother sent me this email not knowing about this incident. I love it. Take a look:
--
APPLICATION FOR PERMISSION TO DATE MY DAUGHTER
NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement,
job history, lineage, and current medical report from your doctor.
NAME_____________________________________ DATE OF BIRTH_____________
HEIGHT___________ WEIGHT____________ IQ__________ GPA_____________
SOCIAL SECURITY #_________________ DRIVERS LICENSE #________________
BOY SCOUT RANK AND BADGES__________________________________________
HOME ADDRESS_______________________ CITY/STATE___________ ZIP______
Do you have parents? ___Yes ___No
Is one male and the other female? ___Yes ___No
If No, explain: _____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________
Number of years they have been married ______________________________
If less than your age, explain
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
ACCESSORIES SECTION:
A. Do you own or have access to a van? __Yes __No
B. A truck with oversized tires? __Yes __No
C. A waterbed? __Yes __No
D. A pickup with a mattress in the back? __Yes __No
E. A tattoo? __Yes __No
F. Do you have an earring, nose ring, __Yes __No
pierced tongue, pierced cheek or a belly button ring?
(IF YOU ANSWERED 'YES' TO ANY OF THE ABOVE, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION
AND LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. I SUGGEST RUNNING.)
ESSAY SECTION:
In 50 words or less, what does 'LATE' mean to you?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
In 50 words or less, what does 'DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER' mean to you?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
In 50 words or less, what does 'ABSTINENCE' mean to you?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
REFERENCES SECTION:
Church you attend ___________________________________________________
How often you attend ________________________________________________
When would be the best time to interview your:
father? _____________
mother? _____________
pastor? _____________
SHORT-ANSWER SECTION:
Answer by filling in the blank. Please answer freely, all answers
are confidential.
A: If I were shot, the last place I would want shot would be:
______________________________________________________________
B: If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my:
______________________________________________________________
C: A woman's place is in the:
______________________________________________________________
D: The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is:
______________________________________________________________
E. What do you want to do IF you grow up? ___________________________
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
F. When I meet a girl, the thing I always notice about her first is:
______________________________________________________________
F. What is the current going rate of a hotel room? __________________
I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO
THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT,
NATIVE AMERICAN ANT TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE
WATER TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS, AND HILLARY CLINTON KISS TORTURE.
_________________________________________________________
Applicant's Signature (that means sign your name, moron!)
_______________________________ ________________________________
Mother's Signature Father's Signature
_______________________________ ________________________________
Pastor/Priest/Rabbi State Representative/Congressman
Thank you for your interest, and it had better be genuine and non-sexual.
Please allow four to six years for processing.
You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Please do not try to call or write (since
you probably can't, and it would cause you injury). If your application is rejected, you will be
notified by two gentleman wearing white ties carrying violin cases. (you might watch your back)
To prepare yourself, start studying Daddy's Rules for Dating .
Dad dy's Rules for Dating
Your dad's rules for your boyfriend (or for you if you're a guy) :
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them..
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'
Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine
NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement,
job history, lineage, and current medical report from your doctor.
NAME_____________________________________ DATE OF BIRTH_____________
HEIGHT___________ WEIGHT____________ IQ__________ GPA_____________
SOCIAL SECURITY #_________________ DRIVERS LICENSE #________________
BOY SCOUT RANK AND BADGES__________________________________________
HOME ADDRESS_______________________ CITY/STATE___________ ZIP______
Do you have parents? ___Yes ___No
Is one male and the other female? ___Yes ___No
If No, explain: _____________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________
Number of years they have been married ______________________________
If less than your age, explain
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
ACCESSORIES SECTION:
A. Do you own or have access to a van? __Yes __No
B. A truck with oversized tires? __Yes __No
C. A waterbed? __Yes __No
D. A pickup with a mattress in the back? __Yes __No
E. A tattoo? __Yes __No
F. Do you have an earring, nose ring, __Yes __No
pierced tongue, pierced cheek or a belly button ring?
(IF YOU ANSWERED 'YES' TO ANY OF THE ABOVE, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION
AND LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. I SUGGEST RUNNING.)
ESSAY SECTION:
In 50 words or less, what does 'LATE' mean to you?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
In 50 words or less, what does 'DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER' mean to you?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
In 50 words or less, what does 'ABSTINENCE' mean to you?
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
REFERENCES SECTION:
Church you attend ___________________________________________________
How often you attend ________________________________________________
When would be the best time to interview your:
father? _____________
mother? _____________
pastor? _____________
SHORT-ANSWER SECTION:
Answer by filling in the blank. Please answer freely, all answers
are confidential.
A: If I were shot, the last place I would want shot would be:
______________________________________________________________
B: If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my:
______________________________________________________________
C: A woman's place is in the:
______________________________________________________________
D: The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is:
______________________________________________________________
E. What do you want to do IF you grow up? ___________________________
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
F. When I meet a girl, the thing I always notice about her first is:
______________________________________________________________
F. What is the current going rate of a hotel room? __________________
I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO
THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT,
NATIVE AMERICAN ANT TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE
WATER TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS, AND HILLARY CLINTON KISS TORTURE.
_________________________________________________________
Applicant's Signature (that means sign your name, moron!)
_______________________________ ________________________________
Mother's Signature Father's Signature
_______________________________ ________________________________
Pastor/Priest/Rabbi State Representative/Congressman
Thank you for your interest, and it had better be genuine and non-sexual.
Please allow four to six years for processing.
You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Please do not try to call or write (since
you probably can't, and it would cause you injury). If your application is rejected, you will be
notified by two gentleman wearing white ties carrying violin cases. (you might watch your back)
To prepare yourself, start studying Daddy's Rules for Dating .
Dad dy's Rules for Dating
Your dad's rules for your boyfriend (or for you if you're a guy) :
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them..
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'
Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine
--
Thursday, February 21, 2008
She's A Cold Hearted Snake
I had a conversation with a friend of mine last night that was really funny. (To me anyway) Her and I have been friends since 1997. A little over three years ago I moved to Tennessee from North Carolina. Since I made the move, I have spoken with her at least three times a week. I have not seen her even once in all that time. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: I can't believe you have stayed in touch with me after all these years. You are a good friend. Not many people would stay in touch like we have, with us living in different states.
Her: What made you say that? (Said very suspiciously in my opinion)
I know why she was so suspicious. The Susan that she knows would NEVER say something sentimental like that. The Susan that she knows would NEVER cry or show any other emotion for that matter.
You see, I went through a very traumatic divorce during the course of my friendship with her. She was there for it all. This experience left me bitter and hard hearted. I didn't want to let anyone inside my heart. It just hurt too much. During the process of my former husband and I separating and getting the divorce, I eventually became aware of my own coldness. I began to pray about it. I asked the Lord to soften my heart. I didn't want to be cold hearted. I just couldn't seem to help myself.
Slowly I began to change. It didn't happen overnight, but gradually. Slowly, I turned into the biggest flippin' ball of mush EVER to walk the face of the Earth. My family picks on me like I am a freak of nature. Every time I get emotional about something, my eyes turn red and well up with tears. They all look at me and say things like: " Look at her, she is about to cry. Look at her eyes" Like I am not even there!!! HELLO! I am not some circus clown sent to amuse the masses, contrary to popular belief. I mean, it's embarrassing enough that I seem to lack control over the mushiness anyway. But to have them standing around staring at me like I just sprouted wings and a horn grew out of my head is just too much. So I am just going to publicly confess my soft heart and be done with it. Well, as much as I can publicly confess with about two readers. (HW and BW)
I think it is still strange for them to see me this way. Now, I ALWAYS tell my sisters and my girls I love them. Every single time I talk to them. If I die, I want them to remember that I told them I loved them. (If any of my far away family is reading this, I love you guys too!!)
All kidding aside, I am glad that the Lord heard my prayer and answered it in His timing. I think it had to happen gradually. All that mushiness overnight would have probably short circuited my brain, and I would now be in a vegetative state.
I am still prepping for the baby shower on Saturday. Why is that you never notice how disgusting your house is until two days before company is coming? I attacked the kitchen tonight. I scrubbed the walls and the sink, mopped the floor and cleaned up the crustiness. I also cleaned off the kitchen table, which was covered in a various assortment of J-U-N-K. Now I must retire for the night. I will probably sit on the couch and find something to cry about. Because I am mushy like that.
Me: I can't believe you have stayed in touch with me after all these years. You are a good friend. Not many people would stay in touch like we have, with us living in different states.
Her: What made you say that? (Said very suspiciously in my opinion)
I know why she was so suspicious. The Susan that she knows would NEVER say something sentimental like that. The Susan that she knows would NEVER cry or show any other emotion for that matter.
You see, I went through a very traumatic divorce during the course of my friendship with her. She was there for it all. This experience left me bitter and hard hearted. I didn't want to let anyone inside my heart. It just hurt too much. During the process of my former husband and I separating and getting the divorce, I eventually became aware of my own coldness. I began to pray about it. I asked the Lord to soften my heart. I didn't want to be cold hearted. I just couldn't seem to help myself.
Slowly I began to change. It didn't happen overnight, but gradually. Slowly, I turned into the biggest flippin' ball of mush EVER to walk the face of the Earth. My family picks on me like I am a freak of nature. Every time I get emotional about something, my eyes turn red and well up with tears. They all look at me and say things like: " Look at her, she is about to cry. Look at her eyes" Like I am not even there!!! HELLO! I am not some circus clown sent to amuse the masses, contrary to popular belief. I mean, it's embarrassing enough that I seem to lack control over the mushiness anyway. But to have them standing around staring at me like I just sprouted wings and a horn grew out of my head is just too much. So I am just going to publicly confess my soft heart and be done with it. Well, as much as I can publicly confess with about two readers. (HW and BW)
I think it is still strange for them to see me this way. Now, I ALWAYS tell my sisters and my girls I love them. Every single time I talk to them. If I die, I want them to remember that I told them I loved them. (If any of my far away family is reading this, I love you guys too!!)
All kidding aside, I am glad that the Lord heard my prayer and answered it in His timing. I think it had to happen gradually. All that mushiness overnight would have probably short circuited my brain, and I would now be in a vegetative state.
I am still prepping for the baby shower on Saturday. Why is that you never notice how disgusting your house is until two days before company is coming? I attacked the kitchen tonight. I scrubbed the walls and the sink, mopped the floor and cleaned up the crustiness. I also cleaned off the kitchen table, which was covered in a various assortment of J-U-N-K. Now I must retire for the night. I will probably sit on the couch and find something to cry about. Because I am mushy like that.
Joy and Rapture!
I have edited this blog. I find myself feeling ashamed of myself. All this obsessing and fretting and blogging about my new car saga. I confess I didn't do the one thing I should have done. Take it to God. Pray about it. Ask Him to help me. Ask His advice. I listened to a teaching last night on my Ipod about having a better relationship with Him. The teaching was by Joyce Meyer. She was saying how God wants to be involved in EVERYTHING we do. All the decisions we make. Even the seemingly small ones. I am not setting a good Christian example by fretting over a stupid car. If it's His will, then everything will work out the way HE intends. Not necessarily the way I want it to. Knowing that, how can I even be worried about it? I am not going to delete my original blog. I want to be able to reflect upon my own silliness.
Does anyone know how to spell halleluyah? That doesn't seem right to me. I have been having major spelling issues lately. Oh well. I digress. HALLELUYAH!!!! My tax refund is scheduled to be deposited on Friday. The excitement is overwhelming. One. I have a few last minute things to take care of for the baby shower. Two. Sissy has some work that REALLY needs to be done to her car. Three. Isn't it just fun to get some extra money for no reason?
Does anyone know how to spell halleluyah? That doesn't seem right to me. I have been having major spelling issues lately. Oh well. I digress. HALLELUYAH!!!! My tax refund is scheduled to be deposited on Friday. The excitement is overwhelming. One. I have a few last minute things to take care of for the baby shower. Two. Sissy has some work that REALLY needs to be done to her car. Three. Isn't it just fun to get some extra money for no reason?
The joy, the happiness. Oh-sorry, didn't mean to get carried away. Anyway, I am really glad the I turned down the car deal from a few days ago. I found the same car for several thousand dollars less and a lower interest rate at another dealership. I may not get that one either, but at least I know there are better deals out there.
I have been waiting ever so impatiently for my refund. Now that it will be here in a couple of days, I find myself not feeling very rushed at all to get into another vehicle. How twisted is that I ask you?!
The DQ stayed home from school today. She has been battling a sore throat. I didn't want to take any chances. She is not running a fever or having appetite loss. If she feels up to it, I wonder if it would be bad if we ran some errands today? We are having a baby shower for my other sister Dejah on Saturday. I still haven't wrapped any of her presents. It would be nice to run and get some gift bags and wrapping paper for her. At the very least I am going to utilize this day off to work on the house some more.
All these new babies are so exciting. Dejah, in typical Dejah fashion, hasn't settled on a name yet. She told me she was leaning towards Jacob. I wouldn't be surprised if she comes up with something completely different by the time he is born. The newest baby is due in Mid April. Dejah and I have a bet. She thinks she will have the baby in March. I don't. I think we bet $50 bucks on it.
Well, I am off to see how I can use this day off to get some things done...........and to say a lengthy prayer on all my shortcomings.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Laundry Police
I have always professed myself to be nutty. I think I want to add weird to the list. I was doing the laundry that I should have done over the weekend. I starting thinking about how strange my laundry habits are. I start the water running. Once the water covers the bottom of the washer, I add my liquid detergent. Then I let the washer fill up and THEN add my clothes. I can't stand the thought of my laundry being done any other way.
I know people that put their clothes in first then add detergent and fill up the washer. Here is where I become strange. My thought process is that if you dump liquid detergent on your clothes, it is sinking into the articles of clothing that it lands on. It is not evenly distributed throughout the wash water, therefore my clothes do not get clean. I'm not knocking how you wash your clothes, I just like my way.
The other strange thing I do is rinse the cap out in the washer. I do this for two reasons. One-if you don't rinse the cap out, your detergent bottle gets all yucky. The other is that noNO WIRE HANGERS EVER!!!!! detergent should be wasted. See I can't even just talk about my strange behavior, I have to explain it also. I never put any of my dress clothes in the dryer. I really believe they last longer this way. I wash them and then hang them up to dry. Now, when the rinse cycle comes on, I add my fabric softener and then let my clothes soak before completing the rinse cycle. The few minutes I let them soak gives them an extra softness. (Or so I like to tell myself).
Why do I do these strange things? I am oh so picky about my laundry, yet at any given moment there is usually a stack of unopened mail on my kitchen table. Or three pairs of shoes under the coffee table. Or a sink full of dishes. Yet I am like the LN (Laundry Nazi). Then I got to thinking how I think that other people do strange things. Like parking your car five miles away as to avoid being dinged by another door. That seems strange to me. I am too lazy to park that far away. (Although I may feel differently after I spend a fortune on a new vehicle)
Before I started school, I would spend at least a couple of hours on Saturday cleaning my car inside and out. Someone I knew thought that was strange. They made the comment to someone else that I was obsessed or in love with my car. No, not really. I paid good money for that car and I wanted to take care of it. I used to think it was really strange for people to clip coupons. I mean is it really worth all that effort? I guess if you are saving money, then yes. (I said that because I have recently been encouraged by an episode of Jon & Kate + Eight to save money on groceries. That woman feeds a family of ten on $150 bucks a week. I spend about $100 bucks a week.ON.THREE.PEOPLE. )
I used to think that people who are germphobes were a little strange. I have a friend who hates illness so much, that if there is a hint of illness she will not go anywhere near the person or persons reported to have been sick. I thought that was just kooky.My dad having the worst strain of staph (MRSA) and being in the hospital for months topped off with a three day run of a stomach virus I caught cured me of that. When I was at the hospital when Alicia had her baby. I just kept thinking about how full of germs hospitals are. Then I proceeded to obsessively sanitize my hands. The the things that seem so strange to us, make perfect sense to others. For me, it makes perfect sense to evenly distribute my laundry soap, or to always pre-rinse my dishes before I put them in the dishwasher. I think one of my sisters has said that if you have to pre-rinse them, you might as well hand wash them.
I am convinced that even though I am weird....and nutty, that's OK. That's me. That's what makes me who I am. It's what makes everyone else who they are. Who am I to think anyone else is strange? I mean, I am the person who used Pam cooking spray to lubricate the parts in my daughter's car door.....and the person that thinks that papers should be lined up perfectly on the left hand corner......and the person who has all of my work papers organized, yet the paperwork I have at home is in shambles.
Well I the LN must go and deal with the laundry that is in the dryer. Before it gets all wrinkly and I have to run the dryer.Again.
I know people that put their clothes in first then add detergent and fill up the washer. Here is where I become strange. My thought process is that if you dump liquid detergent on your clothes, it is sinking into the articles of clothing that it lands on. It is not evenly distributed throughout the wash water, therefore my clothes do not get clean. I'm not knocking how you wash your clothes, I just like my way.
The other strange thing I do is rinse the cap out in the washer. I do this for two reasons. One-if you don't rinse the cap out, your detergent bottle gets all yucky. The other is that no
Why do I do these strange things? I am oh so picky about my laundry, yet at any given moment there is usually a stack of unopened mail on my kitchen table. Or three pairs of shoes under the coffee table. Or a sink full of dishes. Yet I am like the LN (Laundry Nazi). Then I got to thinking how I think that other people do strange things. Like parking your car five miles away as to avoid being dinged by another door. That seems strange to me. I am too lazy to park that far away. (Although I may feel differently after I spend a fortune on a new vehicle)
Before I started school, I would spend at least a couple of hours on Saturday cleaning my car inside and out. Someone I knew thought that was strange. They made the comment to someone else that I was obsessed or in love with my car. No, not really. I paid good money for that car and I wanted to take care of it. I used to think it was really strange for people to clip coupons. I mean is it really worth all that effort? I guess if you are saving money, then yes. (I said that because I have recently been encouraged by an episode of Jon & Kate + Eight to save money on groceries. That woman feeds a family of ten on $150 bucks a week. I spend about $100 bucks a week.ON.THREE.PEOPLE. )
I used to think that people who are germphobes were a little strange. I have a friend who hates illness so much, that if there is a hint of illness she will not go anywhere near the person or persons reported to have been sick. I thought that was just kooky.My dad having the worst strain of staph (MRSA) and being in the hospital for months topped off with a three day run of a stomach virus I caught cured me of that. When I was at the hospital when Alicia had her baby. I just kept thinking about how full of germs hospitals are. Then I proceeded to obsessively sanitize my hands. The the things that seem so strange to us, make perfect sense to others. For me, it makes perfect sense to evenly distribute my laundry soap, or to always pre-rinse my dishes before I put them in the dishwasher. I think one of my sisters has said that if you have to pre-rinse them, you might as well hand wash them.
I am convinced that even though I am weird....and nutty, that's OK. That's me. That's what makes me who I am. It's what makes everyone else who they are. Who am I to think anyone else is strange? I mean, I am the person who used Pam cooking spray to lubricate the parts in my daughter's car door.....and the person that thinks that papers should be lined up perfectly on the left hand corner......and the person who has all of my work papers organized, yet the paperwork I have at home is in shambles.
Well I the LN must go and deal with the laundry that is in the dryer. Before it gets all wrinkly and I have to run the dryer.Again.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The Beef Stew Saga and Other News
No new car yet. I didn't like the interest rates, so I declined their offer. I am still on the hunt..........
I forgot about my Friday night stew. I love to make dinner in the crock pot. It's so convenient and easy. The kids can have a hearty meal before I even get home. My sister bought me one of those stew kits that comes with everything. The meat, vegatables and seasonings for a stew. (I really love those) I started it cooking Friday morning before I left for work.
By the time I got home Friday afternoon, The DQ had already been picked up by one of her friends. After watching TV for a little while, I decided to have some stew. I get my bowl and find the soup spoon and start spooning stew into my bowl. I very quickly become aware of the fact that my bowl has no meat in it. I scrape the bottom of the crock pot trying to get some meat. Nothing but soup and vegatables. I move my spoon to the other side of the crock pot. Nothing. Now I am feeling a little frustrated and wondering where the meat is. I dig around a little bit more and then have to accept the fact, that for some strange reason, the meat is gone out of my stew.
I realize that The DQ has in all liklihood, picked the meat out of the stew. She is a carnivorous creature. She loves her some meat. Steaks, hamburgers, chicken. She even loves turkey noodle soup. I however, do not like stew with only vegatables. Muttering to myself, I carry my bowl of vegatable meatless stew into the living room. I sit down and notice a bowl sitting on the coffee table. Guess what it is......no really, guess. OK, OK, it was a bowl with not. One. Single. Vegatable in it. There was no stew juice in it. There was only meat. That's right. The DQ had picked ALL the meat out of the stew. I couldn't believe it. She had eaten some of it, but what she hadn't eaten was sitting right there in that bowl.
She is hopeless. If I didn't make her, she would happily never eat another vegatable in her life. This is probably why she is getting breasts at the ripe old age of nine. All that meat she eats is probably full of growth hormones.
******************************
I have a new dilemma I have never dealt with before. Sissy has a friend. Sissy's friend has a mother. An irresponsible mother. We will call this friend Diane. Diane came to spend the night a few weeks ago. We hadn't seen her in a while because she lives pretty far away. I met her mother halfway on Friday. On Sunday, Diane's mother stated that she didn't have gas money to me again. I was unable to drive her all the way home because I have one car broken, and one not running all that great.
Did she not realize on Friday that she was not going to have enough money to pick her daughter up? This left Diane to find someone on her own to meet us halfway. I was irritated but I didn't say anything to Diane, after all it wasn't her fault.
Superbowl weekend she came over again. We met on Friday once again. On Sunday, Diane's mother informed her that she had had a few drinks and wouldn't be able to pick her up. AGAIN.
I feel so bad for this girl. I can't even imagine what her home life must be like. I have heard bits and pieces, and from what I have seen, things are not good for this girl. The sad thing is she is really sweet and well mannered every time she stays at my house. She is a joy to have around.
This past weekend, Diane got a ride to drop her off at my house on Friday night. We didn't even have to meet anyone. She got to stay until Monday because the kids were out of school for President's Day. So yesterday it was the same song and dance. No one to meet us to drop her off. Sissy had to drive her all the way home. Which I think is 1 to 1 1/2 hours away. To make matters worse, Sissy got lost on the way home and missed curfew. (Not mine, the one the state imposed. In our state drivers who are under 18 must be off the streets by 11 pm).
As much I like having this girl around, we will NOT pick her up or drop her off anymore. Not only is it stressful to us, but it has to be stressful for Diane also. Not knowing whether or not she is going to have a way to get home or not. If she can get her own ride she can stay. Or if it is determined in advance that we will be picking her up and dropping her off.
Honestly, in all my years as a parent I have never had to deal with this sort of thing before. I want to say something comforting to Diane, but I don't know what to say. If I say the wrong thing I might insult her by saying something about her mother. I do know what it feels like to have an irresponsible parent. In all three cases I didn't say a whole lot. I just let sleeping dogs lie.
I wish I could adopt her.
My tax refund has been in pending status for eight days. I thought my strongly worded letter would somehow convince them to expedite my refund. Next time maybe I shouldn't make my threats so vague. Maybe next time I should say something like, "There will be serious consequences if you do not respond posthaste and forthwith".
****************
The most flattering thing happened to me on Friday. My sister Marlette called me. Our conversation went something like this:
Marlette: What's up with your blog?
Me: I posted last night.
Marlette: Oh, well I haven't checked in a couple of days. I didn't see anything new posted the last time I looked.
Someone is actually fiending for my next blog. I can't believe it. It's so exciting! Soon maybe I will have tens of readers. Surpassing my blog buddy HW, who has ones of readers(You know, as opposed to having thousands or hundreds of readers. Sorry for stealing that HW, but hey I plugged your blog!)
I forgot about my Friday night stew. I love to make dinner in the crock pot. It's so convenient and easy. The kids can have a hearty meal before I even get home. My sister bought me one of those stew kits that comes with everything. The meat, vegatables and seasonings for a stew. (I really love those) I started it cooking Friday morning before I left for work.
By the time I got home Friday afternoon, The DQ had already been picked up by one of her friends. After watching TV for a little while, I decided to have some stew. I get my bowl and find the soup spoon and start spooning stew into my bowl. I very quickly become aware of the fact that my bowl has no meat in it. I scrape the bottom of the crock pot trying to get some meat. Nothing but soup and vegatables. I move my spoon to the other side of the crock pot. Nothing. Now I am feeling a little frustrated and wondering where the meat is. I dig around a little bit more and then have to accept the fact, that for some strange reason, the meat is gone out of my stew.
I realize that The DQ has in all liklihood, picked the meat out of the stew. She is a carnivorous creature. She loves her some meat. Steaks, hamburgers, chicken. She even loves turkey noodle soup. I however, do not like stew with only vegatables. Muttering to myself, I carry my bowl of vegatable meatless stew into the living room. I sit down and notice a bowl sitting on the coffee table. Guess what it is......no really, guess. OK, OK, it was a bowl with not. One. Single. Vegatable in it. There was no stew juice in it. There was only meat. That's right. The DQ had picked ALL the meat out of the stew. I couldn't believe it. She had eaten some of it, but what she hadn't eaten was sitting right there in that bowl.
She is hopeless. If I didn't make her, she would happily never eat another vegatable in her life. This is probably why she is getting breasts at the ripe old age of nine. All that meat she eats is probably full of growth hormones.
******************************
I have a new dilemma I have never dealt with before. Sissy has a friend. Sissy's friend has a mother. An irresponsible mother. We will call this friend Diane. Diane came to spend the night a few weeks ago. We hadn't seen her in a while because she lives pretty far away. I met her mother halfway on Friday. On Sunday, Diane's mother stated that she didn't have gas money to me again. I was unable to drive her all the way home because I have one car broken, and one not running all that great.
Did she not realize on Friday that she was not going to have enough money to pick her daughter up? This left Diane to find someone on her own to meet us halfway. I was irritated but I didn't say anything to Diane, after all it wasn't her fault.
Superbowl weekend she came over again. We met on Friday once again. On Sunday, Diane's mother informed her that she had had a few drinks and wouldn't be able to pick her up. AGAIN.
I feel so bad for this girl. I can't even imagine what her home life must be like. I have heard bits and pieces, and from what I have seen, things are not good for this girl. The sad thing is she is really sweet and well mannered every time she stays at my house. She is a joy to have around.
This past weekend, Diane got a ride to drop her off at my house on Friday night. We didn't even have to meet anyone. She got to stay until Monday because the kids were out of school for President's Day. So yesterday it was the same song and dance. No one to meet us to drop her off. Sissy had to drive her all the way home. Which I think is 1 to 1 1/2 hours away. To make matters worse, Sissy got lost on the way home and missed curfew. (Not mine, the one the state imposed. In our state drivers who are under 18 must be off the streets by 11 pm).
As much I like having this girl around, we will NOT pick her up or drop her off anymore. Not only is it stressful to us, but it has to be stressful for Diane also. Not knowing whether or not she is going to have a way to get home or not. If she can get her own ride she can stay. Or if it is determined in advance that we will be picking her up and dropping her off.
Honestly, in all my years as a parent I have never had to deal with this sort of thing before. I want to say something comforting to Diane, but I don't know what to say. If I say the wrong thing I might insult her by saying something about her mother. I do know what it feels like to have an irresponsible parent. In all three cases I didn't say a whole lot. I just let sleeping dogs lie.
I wish I could adopt her.
My tax refund has been in pending status for eight days. I thought my strongly worded letter would somehow convince them to expedite my refund. Next time maybe I shouldn't make my threats so vague. Maybe next time I should say something like, "There will be serious consequences if you do not respond posthaste and forthwith".
****************
The most flattering thing happened to me on Friday. My sister Marlette called me. Our conversation went something like this:
Marlette: What's up with your blog?
Me: I posted last night.
Marlette: Oh, well I haven't checked in a couple of days. I didn't see anything new posted the last time I looked.
Someone is actually fiending for my next blog. I can't believe it. It's so exciting! Soon maybe I will have tens of readers. Surpassing my blog buddy HW, who has ones of readers(You know, as opposed to having thousands or hundreds of readers. Sorry for stealing that HW, but hey I plugged your blog!)
Monday, February 18, 2008
A Quickie Post
I am leaving the office today and heading for the dealership, I decided to stop waiting on that fine institution known as the IRS. I feel nervous. I have butterflies in my stomach. What if they try to rip me off? What if I am to stupid to see that they are trying to rip me off? The anticipation is almost too much to handle................
Friday, February 15, 2008
My Obsession
I have officially turned into a nut. I have never been more desperate to get my tax refund in all my life. I HATE sharing a car. (No offense Sissy). I have spent the past several weeks agonizing over first, what brand of car and then over what model. I made up my mind only to change it again. Then after I changed it the second time, I changed my mind a third time. First I was shopping for a Civic. Next it was the Honda CRV, now it is a Toyota RAV4.
I am so sick of looking at cars, checking prices of cars, looking at cars some more. I JUST WANT TO GET MY MONEY AND BUY AFREAKIN' FLIPPIN' CAR. Having time to carefully consider what choice to make is not neccessarily a good thing for me. I have never considered myself a wishy-washy person. Maybe I was wrong. I even have a three ring binder which contains internet printouts of all the vehicles I have been looking at. Then I created an Excel spreadsheet which contains what brand the vehicle is, what the year is, sale prices, mileage, and the name of the dealer. This way, at a glance I can compare vehicles and prices. I mean, is it really that complicated? Is it really worth all this effort?
I have NEVER spent so much time thinking about ANYTHING I have purchased. When I bought my Intrepid, I left my house that morning knowing that I would be coming home with a new vehicle. I didn't know what kind of vehicle. I really didn't have anything in mind except that I wanted more of a family vehicle. I went to the dealership, drove an Intrepid and bought it. I don't even think I test drove anything else.
Now I find myself comparing color, mileage, prices, brands, everything. I hesitate to type this next part, but here goes. I actually found myself wondering about cupholders. CUPHOLDERS PEOPLE!!!!! This is very disturbing to me.
The other downside to all thisobsessing research, is that I am all jacked up. I can't wait to go shopping for my next car. I am SO excited. When I am driving around town I am looking at all the vehicles on the road, wondering what my next vehicle will be. Will I stick with the RAV4, or will I go back to the CRV? Could I possibly go another step backwards and end up with a Civic? Who knows?
This is what happens people, it starts by watching American Idol, next I will be an American Idiot. Incoherent, and unable to make the smallest decisions. I think I should pray.
I am so sick of looking at cars, checking prices of cars, looking at cars some more. I JUST WANT TO GET MY MONEY AND BUY A
I have NEVER spent so much time thinking about ANYTHING I have purchased. When I bought my Intrepid, I left my house that morning knowing that I would be coming home with a new vehicle. I didn't know what kind of vehicle. I really didn't have anything in mind except that I wanted more of a family vehicle. I went to the dealership, drove an Intrepid and bought it. I don't even think I test drove anything else.
Now I find myself comparing color, mileage, prices, brands, everything. I hesitate to type this next part, but here goes. I actually found myself wondering about cupholders. CUPHOLDERS PEOPLE!!!!! This is very disturbing to me.
The other downside to all this
This is what happens people, it starts by watching American Idol, next I will be an American Idiot. Incoherent, and unable to make the smallest decisions. I think I should pray.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
American Idol, Cars,and Valentines
I am a sucker. I am a hypocrite. I have been sucked into the realm of which I never wanted to be sucked. Let me set this up. The kids in our city didn't have school yesterday due to the weather. For those who live in places where it snows a lot, here if a single snowflake falls from the sky, schools are closed.
So my sister took the day off and picked up Sissy and took her to her house. I had to pick her up there after work. We atechilly chilli and hung out. Then the horror of horrors happened. American Idol came on. I watched it. Not only did I watch it but I got sucked right in there. I found myself waiting with baited breath to see which of the fifty or so contestants would be voted off. I who vowed never to be sucked into pop culture watched the entire episode of American Idol. Then I committed the most heinous of all acts. It hurts my heart to even type it. I asked my sister what nights American Idol comes on. I asked if it usually comes on two nights a week or one.
I who stated in this blog that I could care less about American Idol. I found myself picking out a few people that I liked. I found myself commenting on the people I thought were cry babies. I am a fraud, a fake, a no good louse. The worst part of it all is, I will probably watch it next week, if I remember when it comes on. Maybe I need an intervention. I never put anyone else down for watching it, I just considered myself above the "Idol" phenomenon. I must remove myself from the presence of all you fine people. I must eat humble pie (which does not taste very good by the way). I am not worthy to breathe the same air as the rest of you.
OK I must break from beating myself up to bring a special announcement. My daughter Sissy, in all her sixteen year old wisdom, fixed the computer desk. All by herself. We have the tray that slides out where the keyboard goes. Earlier this evening the whole thing fell off while The DQ was on the computer. We actually found a drill and Sissy was able to fix it. I am so impressed. I must now teach her how to check the oil in her car. I know she has the skills.
Her is car is running like crap. I am now waiting for the IRS to deposit my tax refund so we can get her car fixed, and trade in the Dodge. After some extensiveinternet browsing research, I THINK I have decided on a Honda CRV. I may blog a couple of weeks from now and have bought something totally different. I read some reviews and did a recall search on it. I compared some prices. I like the idea of having an SUV without it being really big or a terrible gas hog.
Note to BW: If you know someone at the Toyota dealership, I would consider the Toyota RAV4, the sport model of course. If the price is right. Enough rambling for the night. I am off to hang my head in shame for the rest of the evening.
OOPS-I almost forgot my special mention. The DQ took her own money and bought me some roses for Valentine's Day. That is REALLY special because she was going to use the money to buy herself another Webkinz. Lord, don't get me started on those. Sissy cleaned up for me. We spent a great family night together. Even though I am single, I feel truly blessed and loved.
So my sister took the day off and picked up Sissy and took her to her house. I had to pick her up there after work. We ate
I who stated in this blog that I could care less about American Idol. I found myself picking out a few people that I liked. I found myself commenting on the people I thought were cry babies. I am a fraud, a fake, a no good louse. The worst part of it all is, I will probably watch it next week, if I remember when it comes on. Maybe I need an intervention. I never put anyone else down for watching it, I just considered myself above the "Idol" phenomenon. I must remove myself from the presence of all you fine people. I must eat humble pie (which does not taste very good by the way). I am not worthy to breathe the same air as the rest of you.
OK I must break from beating myself up to bring a special announcement. My daughter Sissy, in all her sixteen year old wisdom, fixed the computer desk. All by herself. We have the tray that slides out where the keyboard goes. Earlier this evening the whole thing fell off while The DQ was on the computer. We actually found a drill and Sissy was able to fix it. I am so impressed. I must now teach her how to check the oil in her car. I know she has the skills.
Her is car is running like crap. I am now waiting for the IRS to deposit my tax refund so we can get her car fixed, and trade in the Dodge. After some extensive
Note to BW: If you know someone at the Toyota dealership, I would consider the Toyota RAV4, the sport model of course. If the price is right. Enough rambling for the night. I am off to hang my head in shame for the rest of the evening.
OOPS-I almost forgot my special mention. The DQ took her own money and bought me some roses for Valentine's Day. That is REALLY special because she was going to use the money to buy herself another Webkinz. Lord, don't get me started on those. Sissy cleaned up for me. We spent a great family night together. Even though I am single, I feel truly blessed and loved.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
I Wanna Brag About Me
I haven't had much to say about school this semester. That's because all is quiet. I love my professor and my classmates are most pleasant also. My other class is online, so not much to talk about there. Last night I experienced a proud moment, and had not a soul to share it with. My on campus class is a research and writing class.
Every week we write a short paper about some topic. Last week was our mid term exam. The professor stated last night that she was not happy with the midterms. They would need to be rewritten or modified. She said only two people in the class submitted papers worthy of being graded. She had copied them and passed them out to all of us. I was shocked to see my paper! Mine! Mine was one of the two "good" papers!
I was especially surprised because I really didn't spend as much time as I should have on the paper. As a matter of fact, I wrote and submitted the paper in the same evening. I really didn't feel that I submitted my best work.
She also used another one of my papers as a "good" example. Now every time I do something really air headed, I can reflect on the time that my paper was passed out to the whole class as a good example of a paper. I know I use a lot of slang on my blog, but I really do know how to speak. Well except for this one line of my paper that declares that "the world is full of nuts". I wish I would have said something like, "The world is full of unsavory charachters". Doesn't that sound much better? I think so.
After my most recent posting regarding the IRS, my refund is being processed. Someone from the IRS must be reading my blog. I mean it COULD happen. This is wonderful news as I don't know how much longer Sissy's car is going to last. It's in pretty bad shape now. Every time I stop, I have to put the car in neutral and then back in drive again. If I don't do this, the car won't drive. It just revs up really loudly. So I guess my tax money (as I predicted) will make a brief appearance and be gone shortly afterward. Never to be seen again. Sniffle. Sniffle.
I have changed mind a minimum of three times about the kind of car I want. I won't say anything about it here, just in case I change my mind again. I keep going back and forth between a really small car or a small SUV. What should I pick?
Every week we write a short paper about some topic. Last week was our mid term exam. The professor stated last night that she was not happy with the midterms. They would need to be rewritten or modified. She said only two people in the class submitted papers worthy of being graded. She had copied them and passed them out to all of us. I was shocked to see my paper! Mine! Mine was one of the two "good" papers!
I was especially surprised because I really didn't spend as much time as I should have on the paper. As a matter of fact, I wrote and submitted the paper in the same evening. I really didn't feel that I submitted my best work.
She also used another one of my papers as a "good" example. Now every time I do something really air headed, I can reflect on the time that my paper was passed out to the whole class as a good example of a paper. I know I use a lot of slang on my blog, but I really do know how to speak. Well except for this one line of my paper that declares that "the world is full of nuts". I wish I would have said something like, "The world is full of unsavory charachters". Doesn't that sound much better? I think so.
After my most recent posting regarding the IRS, my refund is being processed. Someone from the IRS must be reading my blog. I mean it COULD happen. This is wonderful news as I don't know how much longer Sissy's car is going to last. It's in pretty bad shape now. Every time I stop, I have to put the car in neutral and then back in drive again. If I don't do this, the car won't drive. It just revs up really loudly. So I guess my tax money (as I predicted) will make a brief appearance and be gone shortly afterward. Never to be seen again. Sniffle. Sniffle.
I have changed mind a minimum of three times about the kind of car I want. I won't say anything about it here, just in case I change my mind again. I keep going back and forth between a really small car or a small SUV. What should I pick?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Show Me The Money
Dear Internal Revenue Service,
I would like to discuss the current tax situation. Mine, that is. I have never been one to give the IRS a hard time. This is because your agency, in all it's infinite wisdom, decided to give single parents a break. Your agency enacted the Earned Income Credit. The credit has allowed me to receive a generous tax refund every year, even though I pay in very little taxes. This past year, I received a substantial raise from my employer. I began paying in more taxes. In the year 2007, I payed in more federal taxes than I have ever paid in my life. I was trying to break even. I didn't want a refund. I didn't want to owe your agency either. When I did my taxes, I discovered quite happily that I would be receiving a generous refund this year. I was overjoyed. Then I discovered that due to system upgrades, I will be unable to file my taxes until February 11th. Under normal circumstances this would not be a problem, however I am in desperate need of a new car. I have been sharing a car with my sixteen year old daughter. Have you ever tried to share a car with a teenager? No, I thought not. The car has a few issues. Recently, we were unable to get the interior light turned off. Last night the car charger broke. The transmission is also slipping a little. I really need my money.....ASAP. I am usually not in any particular hurry to receive my refund, however under the circumstances, I would appreciate it if your agency would process my refund at your earliest convenience. Any other time I would have my refund by now, and not even have a plan as to what the money will be spent on. The ONE YEAR that I really need my money, you decide to upgrade your system. I find this to be a major inconvenience. I am aware that millions of other taxpayers are having to wait to file their taxes also. At this time I cannot be concerned with that. If you could find a moment to expedite my refund, I am sure I could find a generous way to express my thanks. Maybe a cake or a plate of cookies would be acceptable, as I am not a very good cook. Please respond to my request as soon as possible. Otherwise, I will be forced to take whatever action I deem necessary.
Impatiently Yours,
A Desperate Taxpayer
I would like to discuss the current tax situation. Mine, that is. I have never been one to give the IRS a hard time. This is because your agency, in all it's infinite wisdom, decided to give single parents a break. Your agency enacted the Earned Income Credit. The credit has allowed me to receive a generous tax refund every year, even though I pay in very little taxes. This past year, I received a substantial raise from my employer. I began paying in more taxes. In the year 2007, I payed in more federal taxes than I have ever paid in my life. I was trying to break even. I didn't want a refund. I didn't want to owe your agency either. When I did my taxes, I discovered quite happily that I would be receiving a generous refund this year. I was overjoyed. Then I discovered that due to system upgrades, I will be unable to file my taxes until February 11th. Under normal circumstances this would not be a problem, however I am in desperate need of a new car. I have been sharing a car with my sixteen year old daughter. Have you ever tried to share a car with a teenager? No, I thought not. The car has a few issues. Recently, we were unable to get the interior light turned off. Last night the car charger broke. The transmission is also slipping a little. I really need my money.....ASAP. I am usually not in any particular hurry to receive my refund, however under the circumstances, I would appreciate it if your agency would process my refund at your earliest convenience. Any other time I would have my refund by now, and not even have a plan as to what the money will be spent on. The ONE YEAR that I really need my money, you decide to upgrade your system. I find this to be a major inconvenience. I am aware that millions of other taxpayers are having to wait to file their taxes also. At this time I cannot be concerned with that. If you could find a moment to expedite my refund, I am sure I could find a generous way to express my thanks. Maybe a cake or a plate of cookies would be acceptable, as I am not a very good cook. Please respond to my request as soon as possible. Otherwise, I will be forced to take whatever action I deem necessary.
Impatiently Yours,
A Desperate Taxpayer
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
The Bursting of My Bubble
As you know, there was a birthday party to attend over the weekend. Everyone was there and I started telling my mom how my boss had given me some new responsibilities. One of them is monitoring all of our clients who are on credit holds. This means they have to pay in advance before we will ship products to them. The other new thing I am doing is handling accounts receivable calls. When customers are late paying their bills, I call and remind them, then offer to fax or email any invoices they may not have on file.
Iwas am having so much fun having some new things to do. Anyway, I was explaining these new responsibilities to my family, and feeling pretty good about myself. Until Sissy interjected with her take on the situation. It went something like this:
"OH MY GOD MOM, YOU'RE A BILL COLLECTOR! YOU TRAITOR!"
Sissy remembers the hard times when our phone would ring constantly with bill collectors calling our house. I had not quite put that spin on what I am doing. There are a couple of differences between what I do and those hard working individuals that are forced for whatever reason to be bill collectors. The number one difference is that I don't call clients and demand money.
These companies are customers, and it simply would not do for me to tick them off. Bill collectors have to be way more aggressive than I am. It would be ridiculous for them to call up and say, "We would like to know when you are going to pay your light bill, maybe it got lost in the mail. I would be happy to send you another copy". They probably wouldn't make very much progress that way.
The second difference is that I don't call customers fifty times a day. I am not set up on some automated machine that just keeps dialing a number until someone answers.
I could go on and on about the differences between what I am doing and what regular "bill collectors" are doing. However that will not change the fact that for all intents and purposes, I am a bill collector. (Shudder)
In other news.........
Procrastination is once again the name of the game as my last semester in college is in full swing. See, that's the thing about me, I confess my faults willingly. It is very liberating. I take no greater pleasure than waiting until the absolute LAST minute to complete an assignment. See, I work better under pressure. Here's my plan: Sit around stressing out about an upcoming assignment. Know that I need to get it done, yet avoid getting started on it. Do other things besides the assignment I need to be working on, such as clean, do dishes, or cook. Then stress some more about said upcoming assignment. Finally, sit down and do the assignment and feel relieved. Then start the cycle all over again. Yep, I like to live dangerously. I'm crazy like that.
I
"OH MY GOD MOM, YOU'RE A BILL COLLECTOR! YOU TRAITOR!"
Sissy remembers the hard times when our phone would ring constantly with bill collectors calling our house. I had not quite put that spin on what I am doing. There are a couple of differences between what I do and those hard working individuals that are forced for whatever reason to be bill collectors. The number one difference is that I don't call clients and demand money.
These companies are customers, and it simply would not do for me to tick them off. Bill collectors have to be way more aggressive than I am. It would be ridiculous for them to call up and say, "We would like to know when you are going to pay your light bill, maybe it got lost in the mail. I would be happy to send you another copy". They probably wouldn't make very much progress that way.
The second difference is that I don't call customers fifty times a day. I am not set up on some automated machine that just keeps dialing a number until someone answers.
I could go on and on about the differences between what I am doing and what regular "bill collectors" are doing. However that will not change the fact that for all intents and purposes, I am a bill collector. (Shudder)
In other news.........
Procrastination is once again the name of the game as my last semester in college is in full swing. See, that's the thing about me, I confess my faults willingly. It is very liberating. I take no greater pleasure than waiting until the absolute LAST minute to complete an assignment. See, I work better under pressure. Here's my plan: Sit around stressing out about an upcoming assignment. Know that I need to get it done, yet avoid getting started on it. Do other things besides the assignment I need to be working on, such as clean, do dishes, or cook. Then stress some more about said upcoming assignment. Finally, sit down and do the assignment and feel relieved. Then start the cycle all over again. Yep, I like to live dangerously. I'm crazy like that.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Ghetto Cars
Did you ever have one of those days where you have fifty things you are going to accomplish that day? If so, did you manage to finish all fifty? Not me. That was my day yesterday. I had planned all these things that needed to be taken care of, yet somehow I only got three things done on my list. I felt kind of bad about it but hey, what can you do?
My superior intelligence has once again shined like beaming star. After Sissy and I got home last night, her interior light in her car wouldn't go off. We shut all the doors again. Nothing. Using what I thought was a superior process of elimination, I determined that the passenger door on the driver's side was the problem. I tried opening and shutting the door repeatedly nothing. I called The DQ's dad to ask him what I should do to get the door to shut all the way. He suggested spraying WD 40 on the door.
I am a single woman. It was 10 at night and I had no WD 40. But guess what I did have. Pam cooking spray. I know, I know, that's pretty silly, but I was desperate. So I lubricated the door with my Pam. Still the stupid light wouldn't go off. After screwing around with the door for about thirty minutes, Sissy asked a question that changed the outcome of the night. She asked, "Are you sure that's the door that won't shut?". At this point I was ready to rip all the doors off the car and jump up and down on them in a fit of temper.
I went around to the other side of the car, and after messing with that door for a mere five minutes, the light went off. This is the problem with buying your daughter an older model car. While it's great for insurance purposes, itsucks stinks when the doors won't shut or the power windows give out or the cruise control stops working. Thankfully, the door is the only minor thing going out on Sissy's car. A couple of tips for single women or women in general.
1. WD 40 is probably a good thing to keep handy.
2. Always have the phone number of a friend, or family relation of the male species handy in case you need to ask an important question, like "How do I make that little light on the inside of the car go off?".
3. I am the worst for losing screwdrivers and other manly tools. I bought a screwdriver that has detachable heads. You can switch back and forth between a phillips head and a straight head with the flick of your wrist. (Phillips is the kind that looks like a star on the end. Straight is the kind that is well, straight on the end)
4. Flashlights girls, you should always have a couple of flashlights handy. That way if the interior light in your won't go off, you won't have to stand out in the dark trying to fix your door. I mean, IF something like that happens to you.
5. Never fail to ask any man that comes to your home to look at various things that may need repair. It could be your brother in law, or a family friend or even a baby daddy. For example, when The DQ's dad came down for Christmas, I didn't wait five minutes to ask him if he would look at my toilet. I am still reaping the rewards of that endeavor, as he fixed my toilet.
6. Men like to fix things, and let's face it, some of us womenfolk(namely me) are not mechanically inclined. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. My motto is, "There ain't no shame in my game".
I went around to the other side of the car, and after messing with that door for a mere five minutes, the light went off. This is the problem with buying your daughter an older model car. While it's great for insurance purposes, it
1. WD 40 is probably a good thing to keep handy.
2. Always have the phone number of a friend, or family relation of the male species handy in case you need to ask an important question, like "How do I make that little light on the inside of the car go off?".
3. I am the worst for losing screwdrivers and other manly tools. I bought a screwdriver that has detachable heads. You can switch back and forth between a phillips head and a straight head with the flick of your wrist. (Phillips is the kind that looks like a star on the end. Straight is the kind that is well, straight on the end)
4. Flashlights girls, you should always have a couple of flashlights handy. That way if the interior light in your won't go off, you won't have to stand out in the dark trying to fix your door. I mean, IF something like that happens to you.
5. Never fail to ask any man that comes to your home to look at various things that may need repair. It could be your brother in law, or a family friend or even a baby daddy. For example, when The DQ's dad came down for Christmas, I didn't wait five minutes to ask him if he would look at my toilet. I am still reaping the rewards of that endeavor, as he fixed my toilet.
6. Men like to fix things, and let's face it, some of us womenfolk(namely me) are not mechanically inclined. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. My motto is, "There ain't no shame in my game".
Friday, February 1, 2008
Bad Mother Day
We have an issue. A couple of days ago, The DQ came to me and told me that none of her jeans fit. She said that they ALL got shrunk in the dryer. This made me feel horrible. What kind of mother shrinks all her kid's clothes in the dryer? Now she has nothing to wear. This conversation escalated because I was ready to walk out the door and she wasn't even dressed yet. I told her she had to wear something. After all, I can't just make new clothes appear out of thin air. She yelled at me. That's right, the nine year old brat kid yelled at me.
"I cant believe I shrunk ALL of her jeans. What kind of mother doesn't know how to wash clothes without shrinking them? I don't even dry them on high heat. Wait a minute. Surely I did not shrink EVERY SINGLE pair of jeans she owns. In fact, I bet she is having a growth spurt. THAT'S IT!!!! I didn't shrink her clothes...DUH! She is outgrowing them."
The fact that it took me half a day to realize that I hadn't shrunk her clothes is hilarious to me. I was really thinking that I shrunk her clothes. Now I am stuck with the dilemma of having two children who are going to need whole new wardrobes. Goodbye tax money, goodbye...........It was nice to see you for a brief fleeting moment.
An anonymous commenter recently stated that I think the world revolves around me, and that I even think Wal-Mart employees should be nice to me. How dare I think that customers should be treated with respect? I don't think I am the ONLY customer that should be treated nicely. I would also like to point out that blogs are about the people that write them. I think everyone should have the right to blog about whatever they want. HW-your blog is about you and your family. (By the way you are an excellent writer) I also read this blog.
It is about a mother and HER family. Why? Because it is HER blog.
It was also stated that I should not write about IUD's or PMS. Am I the only one who has PMS? Am I the only woman who has ever used birth control as a mood stabilizer? Is it illegal to talk about these things? I was not crude or graphic in my blog. See for yourself. Frankly I feel it is my civic duty to mankind to report my moodiness.
At any rate, we are off to a birthday party for Matthew today.(He is the proud father of baby Isaiah). I am sure I will come home with some really cute pictures to post. I hope all my peeps near and far have a lovely weekend. Oh I almost forgot. Since I am so self centered, I have come up with a new idea. If anyone has any topics that I need to blog about please let me know. I want to make sure I get plenty of variety in here..............maybe world hunger, or the state of the economy?......let me know.
Note: For those of you who don't know, if you click on the words that are pink, you can view the various blogs I posted about.
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