So I live with my family -- but when I lived with roommates I had a great time - sure we had fights over the dishes - or my shoulder was soggy from a particular crier. But overall I was blessed with good roommates. Sure I have my favorites and my least favorite but overall I was able to live with everyone just fine. No murders took place at any of the places I resided and all things friendships were in place at the end of the lease.
My sister however -- has had some issues.
She's in her final year at school and she's had some humdinger roommates.
#1: Blooming Prairie girl - I don't remember the name she had but I remember the town she lived in, selective memory at it's finest. She built a fort in the dorm room and hid all of her belongings in said fort and would go home (less than an hour away) for weeks at a time and completely ignore my sister. She eventually dropped out.
#2: Her friend Franny and her lived together or 2 years. They've known eachother since highschool and the first year went ok, but the second year ended badly when Franny made friends with Sunnie and Daisy the cheerful girls they were... the three of them ignored my sister for the last 4 months of livign together and didn't tell her that they were moving out at the end of the lease. They just up and moved.
Obviously I'm biased for my sister -- I've lived with her. I know she has her moments- we shared a room for a number of years but in general she's a great roommate -- a little bit of a neat freak - but overall she's just has pms moments like the rest of us and she just happens to like everything in a certain place... she got made when the spice rack wasn't in the correct order when she went to make cookies, maybe she had a moment and ticked someone off - but seriously who can hold a grudge over an out burst over a spice rack ( the following example is only used as an imaginitive illustration and no spices were harmed and or out of order to the best of my knowlege.)
#3 She just acquired some new roommates a couple weeks ago. One girl is from Oklahoma and from what Peewee (my adorable sissy) said, she's quite the charachter. She has a long distance boyfriend. She doesn't go to school. She shows Peewee all of her groceries. She has a lisp. Her sister lives in the apartment building adjacent to the one my sister and Annie Oakley (Oklahoma girl, not even sure where the really Annie was from but I had a moment of the word association going on in my head, apologies for any inacuracies) but here is the kicker -- she brought her dolls with her to her apartment. She has a collection of China dolls and she has them on display in her bedroom.
Now, I have some china dolls, they are cute and pretty and loved them to death when I was 9. Now they are with my sister's china dolls on top of the piano, down stairs with various other knick knacks...
Just have patience my dear sissy, have some patients.
Looks like another death themed awkward moment. I'll hopefully have a more chipper awkward moment next week. Apologies for the downer topic.
Ok so there is this sorta new girl at work - we call her Cleavy McGee cause she has no concept of what the appropriate dress code entails and some how showing us her saggy mid life crisis wrinkly boobs is the icing on the cake. I've blogged about her before but not sure what alias I gave her then.
So her husband's grandma died. Now I'm not an unsympathetic person by any means - I am sorry for her and her family's loss. But she dominates almost all conversations at break at our beloved picnic table. She's "has" everything, she's "done" everything bigger, better and with more vicissitude than anyone else. Except when the topic turns to sex toys than she just sits there. In a nut shell she drives me crazy. Just be quiet and listen Cleavy. Don't interject your none-sense becuase we all hate you. (OK that made me feel a little better -- see the anger coming out! XYZ Anger Management )
So she is a self proclaimed expert on all things. Including funeral planning.
First off, my dad just past away 3 mo. ago and I don't always want to talk about it - esp. at work. But alas she has brought up the conversation. So she asked how much it cost. OK rude, If it were a pair of shoes, ok fine, still rude, a airplane ticket or gallon of gas, ok rude but understandable in the econmic times we live in. But funeral costs aren't exactly something to talk about over 15 minutes away from the compute screen. But I'm pretty straightfoward with everyone and some how have this badge of obligation to answer a question when asked, So I told her - and then she went on and on how the standard burial is better for the family and friends to process the loss vs. a cremation/ memorial.
So basically, in her "I'm better than everyone" sensability - she tells me "That's too bad that you had to cremate him a proper burial would have been better." I repeat to her how he didn't want to be buried. He wanted to be cremated and how you really have to respect the wishes of the person who has passed. Well, her husbands grandma also wanted to be cremated but they aren't doing that they are going to have the traditional burial. After all she won't know and it's really for the people who are left!
Can you believe this -- My family is crappy cause we didn't spend 10K on a "proper" burial and church hoopla - cause my dad wanted to be cremated and was an atheist. I didn't go into that last detail with her because I don't discuss faith at work even on breaks, too many people out there trying to convert.
But her family is fantastic because they are disregarding all last wishes for their beloved grandmother. And having a ridiculous pompus funeral.
I liked what we did for my dad, it was simple: flowers, urn, stories, pictures and comfortable, it allowed around 250 people to trickle in and out and it was really quite nice and I'd want something very similar for myself.
So I get mad and ignore Cleavy.
Went to lunch at Leann Chin with some friends. And who the heck shows up there -- as we are done eating? None other than Cleavy McGee. So in my blatant bluntness proclaim to the table that it is time to go. Loud enough for Cleavy to hear. Gigi and Feather finish their food and we bust out of Leann Chin's just in the nick of time.
Hope she got a rotten fortune.
I know, what is with the color change -- well, I've been looking for a cuter blog template like dear Ava has but I am unsatisfied with what is already out there pre-made and frankly I'm too lazy to do anything but update my colors on my curent template. So maybe one day I'll have a cutesy blog but today is not that day.
So I went to World Market today with my mom. She needed sherry vinegar and I love stores that have weird crap that you don't see at target and wal-mart.
So I had a sweet tooth while I was there and they have a section for international candies. I bought a bag of Lindt truffles in a new variety: stracciatella and then I found hte perfect candy for Dave.
Dave generally doesn't like candy bars unless they have some substance in them -- like peanuts, carmel, nougat -- he likes baby ruths, snickers, peanut m&ms... but today I found the candy bar of his dreams. 
Yes, that's right -- bacon and chocolate: Mo's Bacon Bar.
Now, I'm jsut trying to think of what else to get him for our aniversary - since we haven't celebrated it yet -- and we decided to do so this weekend.
So I know you won't believe it -- but it's been almost 1.5 years since I bought a new purse. I know -- crazy. But the last purse spree I stocked up and had a couple handbags that I rotated properly and now I have this medium brown matches everything handbag -- that well has seen better days. Something has spilled insdie and stained the leather- most of the zippers and snaps work - the handles are still in adequate condition but overall the bag looks like it got into a couple fights with car doors, jamba juice spills, rain, sleet, and the abonimal snow man.
SO I went shopping with Camille one day for lunch - she wanted to look at the purses at TJ Max, which is a great place to look -- once in awhile but most of the time they are crap. But I wasn't looking -- and there it was. A wonderful dark brown - perfect for fall handbag. It's part suede and part glossy but not patent leather -- cute straps - silver detailing big enough and then some to hold all my crap.
I haven't been shopping for me, aside from the essentials -- I've been taking care of a household and I guess I just forgot that I need to buy Kristen something once in awhile, (aside from pre packaged hanes her way underwear, oh the shame.) because I was so happy after I bought it. Giddy almost.
Sooo this week I found out that my friend Feather at work will be celebrating her last day at XYZ on Wednesday. Not only that but she will be moving, and moving in with her boyfriend Teddy Ruxspin.
I'm jealous for a million reasons -- 1. She doesn't have to deal with Ima Horrible-Person, our boss and the whole XYZ land of insanity. 2. I want to move or move in with Dave but in due time I suppose, can't rush these things and it's only been a year of bliss - although Feather and Teddy have only been together 9 mo. -- different time tables I suppose. 3. She gets to leave XYZ.
So I'm very unhappy at my job right now. In fact every morning I wake up and try to come up with a creative way to call in sick. But then realize that one only has a certain number of allotted sick days and well it's sinus season so I'm bound to get a sinus infection and actually need to use them -- then I have to force myself to go. I put on my happy face and step into the office -- within about 5 minutes I physically feel ill and have to do all I can not to run out the door.
I don't know what it is -- but ever since they moved me over to the Canadian side of things the wee bit of happiness that I am capable of feeling has been sucked out of me and I am becoming bitter, cynical and angry. The source of this could be a variety of things, the Canadians, Ima, and just the tall gray-green cubes that prevent anyone from seeing anyone all darn day, including people, sunlight and or a fax machine. No chit chat on the dark side. No words of encouragement - not that I feed off of that stuff but it is a nice icing on the cake of crud I call work. I'm just unhappy and dread work. I know - everybody hates their job, but seriously I have never been filled with so much disdain.
I used to love work -- I've always loved work and even when I was working in the portable toilet industry - I loved my shitty job. But this - this is not something I signed up for. 1. My boss has told me that I'm a small thinker and that I'm thinking inside a box and she doesn't know how to tell me how to change. And seriously get some new material for telling people in a PC way you think they are stupid, Taco Bell slogans aren't cutting the cake.
I'm a glorified bill collector. I call people (not even real people but businesses - as XYZ doesn't deal with the public at large but only commercial companies) and ask them nicely to pay their bills. Resolve issues and some how I don't even see where this profession has a box. It's not rocket science, it's common sense. One minute they tell me I'm calling them too much, stop faxing statements (Mind you a statement can take 14 days to reach some of the people in Canada - the mail system up there is f-d up)pardon me for being proactive. Then the next minute they want to know why my moring calls have slowed down -- hello these Canadians are on different time zones. I'm not going to call when it's 6:30 in British Columbia, talk to some janitor or maintenance worker who wouldn't know how to transfer me to voicemail if his life depended on it.
So I'm unofficially looking. But in the meantime expressed my unhappiness to Ima and to my old boss and I have an appointment to talk to the head of our office on Wednesday. I'd gladly move back to Texas - and try to go back to normal.
so yeah, I've been lacking in the blogging department -- I'll try and catch up with some worthy reads tommorrow. right now though the benadryl is winning and i'm so sleepy and everything is fuzzy and i'm still sneezing. ciao for now.
Ok so off of the deck there are a couple bird feeders.
The squirrels have figured out how to get the food and gorge.
So they run up and down the railing of the deck.
My brother and I were hanging out in the kitchen and he was getting irritated with the animal embracing the balance beam.
I told him that squirrel is an Olympic squirrel and to just calm down.
We then deems that
acorns = bronze
cashews = silver
and
tada
walnuts = bronze
too bad the little squirrel is only getting bird seed.
So today on the radio (regular local music station not npr) they were discussing how scientists now belive that cows automatically face north. So they had callers calling in talking about which way cows were facing.
So really there are a couple of morons out there that like to track cows.
and then a couple of morons who call into the radio to tell them which ways cows are pointing as they see them on the various patches of farmland scattered on the outskirts of the metro area....
I should have been listening to npr.
Tonight I had a cribbage game with Mike planned. We meet at the same dunns brothers -- and we always play a couple games, talk about life and crap and it's good fun.
Well today, I've had a headache most of the day and my ears hurt from my sinuses hurting - but I took an advil earlier this afternoon (I rarely take OTC drugs cause I'm a freak and don't like to take them).
It must have been a combination of things, my headache, my allergies, my hunger pains - jamba juice is good but can't sustain a person all day, but mostly I just wanted to wear sweatpants and have soft kleenex to blow my nose and eat something.
It was a hunger I couldn't explain -- like if I didn't eat within the next 5 minutes I was almost certain I would perish. I did'nt perrish. I came home got in my sweat pants and made some dinner. Still have the headache and lots of sneezyness.
But now I feel bad about only playing one game -- and that I won so Mike couldn't even try to win round two. I feel bad that he had an offer for dinner with his mom and passed it up to play a game with me and then I bail cause I didn't eat my 3 oclock snack.
So I'm sorry Mike, I don't mean to be a crappy friend an I'm sorry I'm so yawny and lame on the weekend nights we play.
Something has happened. Okay yes, I've gained 10 pounds/2.50 pant sizes for every extension I've had at XYZ Company. (That'd be 4 extension changes in 3 years, this math isn't complicated, it's sad.) But on the brighter side of things -- I have a new found appreciation for sweat pants.
But that's not the news either. When I started at XYZ I had finally grew out the permed cherub look I annointed myself with in college. I had cute hair and I'm not sure what exactly possessed me to chop it off into a pixie cut that - inadvertantly did not allow me to wear polo shirts (a business causual office attire staple, since we are required to either wear a collar or a sweater - both is an option since I freeze to death in the ice-cubical.) without looking like a teenage boy wearing his sister's bra with some exoctic fruit in the cups. I also started growing back my eyebrows -- a whole other story, that is slightly medically related to my teeter totter thyroid issues.
Ok so I chopped my hair. Gained some weight plus some more. Grew my eyebrows back. Got rid of the braces and ta-da have successfully grownout my hair -- so now I can curl it in cute curls - not frizzy cherub perm curls and I'm half an inch away from sporting the coveted pony tail. ( I would post a picture -- but I have ruined my usb ports and {am currently shopping but indescisive on a new computer since this one is aboue to die} they now no longer talk to my camera. But now I can at least be girly -- but this is not the news... the most unexpected thing has happened.
I started wearing make-up on a daily basis. Not a lot, since I didn't want to go from plain normal just clean and nothing super spectacular face to whamo pizzamo - drag queen try-out make up face. So, yes, I now have to put my face on in the morning. But you know what, it does wonders for hiding any sort of mild depression I might have. Don't fret, I'm really fine -- I just have more crappy days than I used to, BD. (Before Dad) And I'm not a wallower so maybe this new beauty time in the morning just makes me feel more put together that I sometimes feel in the morning or on the inside.
So when my dad was alive he was constantly popping from window to window to see the wildlife frolicking in the back yard. We made fun of him for this - in the nicest way possible. Once in awhile he'd have to shoot at something like a woodchuck.
I'm in the north metro area, not quite suburbs, not quite country. We have neighbors and traffic signs but the nearest stop light is a couple miles away. People shoot things out here, it's somewhat normal.
So anyways his window popping is now my mother's new hobby. She bought some bird feeders and a bird bath and wants binoculars for christmas --
Well, it's great,she has a hobby. She hasn't wanted to do much with her garden this year but this way she can watch the birds. Then call to me and my brother to come and see.
The critter patrol: We get deer, bunnies, squirrels, the neighbors dog and cat in our yard. All will vanish once spotted except for the squirrels.
The birds: My mom is so excited about the cardinals and blue birds, and finches and orioles, the woodpeckers and all the other pretty birds that some how she fails to recognize that the 400 black birds in the yard is quite disgusting.
No I am not exaggerating. I thought I was in a Hitchcock film - when I'm just sitting here in the kitchen.
My cats get jelouse when she goes outside to fill the feeders.
The squirrels have some how managed to figure out how to get the food from the squirrel proof feaders and this makes my mother mad.
So she will scream out the window - instructing the squirrels in a stern voice to get out and get down.
Then the other night - we had a cricket outside the kitchen window, chriping away as crickets do. My cat was going ape shit wanting to kill the shrill sound and my mother - sternly yell'd out the window to stop chirping. The cricket however did not respond.
This behavior has been repeated over and over -- I got up - sick of my mom and now my brother yelling out the window like morons at an insect that doesn't even have an acorn for a brain. I simply shut the window and then there was silence. No more chirrping annoying cricket.
Soo my brother just ordered pizza.
He asked me to get the door when it came -- In my sisterly voice refused.. I can be a brat sometimes. Oh well.
So he said gosh - I need to shower then.
Shower to get the pizza when it comes to the door? Are you that vain?
I'm not vain - I just don't want to look like a bum who eats pizza all day.
So I agreed to get the door -- he wouldn't have that -- noo
Instead he decided to get the pizza in his underwear. I guess if you aren't going to shower for the delivery person - you might as well forget to put on clothes too.
So much for vanity and looking like bum...
So I was cleaning my room and found this box I decoupaged forever ago with halfa million pin up girls scattered all over it for cheeky decorative art.
And I love them -- they are so cheesy and cute and funny. So I brought some of Elvgren's girls to live over here on my blog.
For more: http://elvgrenpinup.com
So it's been three months since my dad died. My mom has decided that she wants to wait to intern his ashes until she passes so they can be buried together. Okay that's fine, it's her choice.
So there have been a slew of people at the office that have recently lost parents. I was talking to Steve one of my co-workers about grief since he just lost his mom. Steve and Jim used to be my cube mates -- and they've always been my work dads -- wanting to know if the boyfriend is good enough, random happenings etc -- caring and protecting of moi- Punky Poo. So Steve and I get into a conversation about loss.
And pretty soon we are sitting there talking about cemetary plots, rules and regulations for certain cemetaries. Cremation vs. Full Burials. Nosy people wanting to know about wills and finances etc.
Steve O said he wished that Dave could have met my Dad cause it would have been a great story to hear. and here I am -- trying to keep it together.
Creating another awkward moment for the office.
Ok so it all started awhile back -- some friends made me listen to npr podcasts for an unreasonable amount of time.
Something happenned -- I think I was hypnotized or subliminal message has had an effect on me but now with out at least 8 hours of NPR goodness a day I simply can't function.
So yes, my nerdieness has reached another high -- I love npr and pbs.
SO this week on the radio there was this big dicussion about alcohol and turning back the age to 18 -- of course it was else where but I mostly just listened to the discussion on the radio.
Ok so everyone drinks before 21. For me I don't know I was 15 or something when I went on a bike ride with Julie over to Maxine's house -- we had a couple grasshoppers - or maybe just one but, we were silly and then I had to bike ride the 6 miles back to my house (yes, I was a big bike rider in those days... 6 miles was nothing back then... ) We had some difficulties a little swerving action but we were fine by the time we rented movies and went to go watch them...
Then when I turned 18 my mom, myself and my friend Sonya hung out in my kitchen drinking boons farm, smoking cigarettes and scratching off lottery tickets. Party of the year it was not, but it was a good time.
I guess I'm more relaxed with drinking age- if people are taught that you should just be responsible don't get out of hand have some fun. Maybe it's because my dad was a recovering alcholic for the majority of his life and alcholism runs in our family, pretty thick on both sides and since we were old enough to understand it - it's been talked about in our house. And my siblings and I seem to be pretty well balanced in the booze department. My brother however made this proclaimation before he was 21 that he would never drink a drop -- that didn't stick but we were all taught that you can have some fun but should be able to function.
So yeah -- bring down the age -- after a few year the kids will get over it and maybe it won't be such a center stage for everything.
So I'm convinced that David has some sort of fear - similar to my brother's in that it revolves soley around toilet paper.
I'm convinced he waits until the upstairs bathroom is running low on toilet paper and then uses the downstairs bathroom and visa versa - and this continues until I go in the bathroom and use the last measly square on the roll, and then change the roll.
Is it really that hard?
He also has difficulty putting the seat down. But it is his house and his toilet so I don't press the issue but I make a note to always leave it down and put down the lid after I'm done.
If this is our only quasi fight then be it.
There is also the issue of the towels. He complains that I leave random towels throughout the house - on the back of the chair in the kitchen - on the floor in the bedroom on the loveseat on the back of doorknob not connected to the bathroom.
I explain that he doesn't have a towel rack and it would be a act of God if I could reach high enough to throw the towel over the shower curtain like he does. He just shakes his head.
Maybe I'll start hanging the towel up in an appropriate place when starts changing the toilet paper and putting the seat down so If I go on a tinkle mission at 2 am and don't turn on the light my fanny doesn't get wet.
So, today has been a lame day. Pretty relaxing but lame. I've spent way too much time spent online. I've wasted a couple hours reading random blogs. I've come to a conclusion.
If I am ever feeling hormonal or sappy I should just read a bad mom blog. Now, on my blog roll I have included some entertaining blogs that might be written by moms - however they don't turn their blog into a cyber fridge to post every gurgle, crappy picture, and or dirty diaper report about their child on the ever magnificant www.
This is excellent birth control, reading about poop and barf and all the other gross stuff. But then their are the cutsie stories that get me all baby happy and I have to sing my no - babies mantra.
Yes, I realize this might sound cold, or cruel -- but although your life changes once you enter the mama hood it doesn't take over your whole identity, or does it? I'd like to think I'd be a real person too after having babies (9 year plan) (haha)
Aside from mom blogs there are alot of green blogs. Really? You could have saved 100 feet a rainforrest sending crappy flowers to all your friends on facebook and have a cute virtual garden by the time you created and made all those greenie posts. I'm not green but I do love the little green patch - I do it for the flowers not the earth. I'm too lazy to be green. I seperate my cans from the trash but that's about it.
So anyways, after reading all of the blogs I popped in on today - I'll apologize if my content is ever lacking and or disappointing. But sometimes life is lame and uneventful like a Sunday afternoon and I feel the need to share my lameness in hope that something less lame comes around.
Awkward Moment of the Week. So I sometimes find myself in awkward situations, often these situation are not self enduced - sometimes they are, bygones. So I'm going to pick one to share every week. Yes, my fodder for blogs is depleated at the moment.
I have a regular lunch buddy. Camille and I used to sit next adjacent to one another - but then I got moved to the other side of the building and so we don't see much of eachother now. So anyways for the last year or so we've been going to lunch together. We complain and gripe about the office happenings, talk about happenings on our home fromts. We're good friends and have fun at work and outside of work - when she drags me to the gym -- ok that was one time.
Camille has a few rug rats at home and a loving husband, but somehow she had a lapse of judgement, wanted some sort of singledom freedom and has cheated on her husband Fletcher. Well this week Camille and I were talking about lunch and Monday was bad, I had a dr. appointment. Tuesday was Lisa's birthday and I was taking her out to lunch with Maggie. So Wednesday came along and we were due for lunch.
Well wednesday came along and she buzzed me:
Buzz:
K: Yo.
C: What's for lunch?
K: Let's Jambafiy ourselves ( Gotta love Jamba Juice)
C: Ok cool, you mind if Fletcher comes too?
K: uh, yah sure
C: noon then?
K: My time of day.
C: hardee har har
K: K later.
Shit. What the hell did I agree to? Oh well it's really only an hour of my life.
I've only briefly met Fletcher -- he seems like a nice enough husband. He's a saint for putting up with Camille's infedility.
SO it wasn't as bad as I imagined. We got our Jambas and I proceeded to tell funny stories about a recent emotional breakdown caused by a missing a bc. pill and taking two in one day. Hormone overload! But basically I was so nervous about the possibility of awkwardness I just started babaling and made lunch all about me -- until I found out they just got a cat and well then I had to ask all about the cat!
We nearly finished our Jamba's and now were heading back to the office.
A couple days later - I find out that now Fletcher is begining to consider a semi-quasi sort of open relationship. And he's sending her flowers. I don't know what to think. Now, that's an awkward moment. haha. ok lame. sorry. I'll stop now.
So the other day I was in the car and yes, I'm one of those people that sings in the car. I do it to pass the time, to torture myself and for a variety of other reasons.
So on came an Ace of Base song and there I was in the car jamming out. But then the stupid song got stuck in my head.
I saw the sign and opened up my mind I saw the sign.
What a horrible song to have in your head. SO horrible in fact that I sacrificed quality music time to listed to some NPR.
But no, 3 days later I still have the stupid song in my head.
So, after reading a few of my entries you might think that I have a mild addiction to food. Well, I like food -- and in most instances I eat in moderation. I do have indulgences that need to be met i.e. chocolate, diet coke, salty treats to counteract the large quantities of sweets.
But seriously, I eat in moderation and generally enjoy food. However, my brother seems to think that a nutrious breakfast constitutes eating brats or hamburgers? Every day during the week he sticks to his high fiber oatmeal or oatmealesque dry cereals. But on the weekends -- he eats meat for breakfast. I just don't understand this. But, afterall I had a slice of French Silk pie for breakfast -- what? I wanted to eat it before the bottomless pit I call my brother got to it.
More random facts about my brother since I haven't really blogged about him. He's sick and wrong in so many ways, but we all love him just the same.
1) He likes to run. This is almost proof that he was dropped off by a stork instead of being blood related to our family. No body likes to run.
2) He likes old fuddy music -- he's 24 he goes to jazz concerts and likes Chic Korea in ways I will never understand.
3.) He eats alot -- maybe it's because he runs... maybe he just loves eating brats, burgers and other dinner time food for breakfast? But I know I have to put my name on the Klondike bars if I want to have any for dessert.
4.) He's embarrassed to buy toilet paper. So I've been tryign to help him overcome his fear by not buying it for the house -- I don't think this is working cause my mom ultimately feels bad about him getting blush faced when he has to buy it -- I mean seriously -- there are way worse things to buy and get embarrassed about. Maybe it's that we buy the super jumbo pack -- and he just doesn't want the world to know that he shits - like everyone else.
5.) He talks to much. He's an expert on most things and frankly it gets a little annoying when I want some piece n quite and he wants to have a political debate. Hellooo I'm trying to beat my scramble score - don't talk to me!
So I've been watching the Olympics -- Like I do every 4 years. I've always loved them. Maybe, I've convinced myself that watching them is just as healthy as training in the events.
I have been caught up in the swimming events and even with all the medals for the USA -- I still want to watch more. I get really into it -- yelling at the TV. Leaning my body when it gets close to the end, now that I tell you is almost aerobic.
Michael Phelps has done an amazing thing. And Dara Torres - for being in her 40's is also pretty amazing.
So yeah, that's why there has been a lack of blogging -- I've been working out -- sitting in my bed, drinking diet coke and eating icecream, leaning from time to time as the swimmers swim.
This is my one step for progress. I should know better - afterall I had to run out and buy new pants since my other pants just don't seem to fit properly anymore... guess I should probably lay off the icecream, but I was unable to eat it for so many years because I had a case of lactose intollerance that has been magically lifted. So I'm just making up for lost time.
The first 30 minutes were funny -- but then I just wanted to sneak away from Dave and go see sisterhood of the traveling pants.
This is a man movie. A stoner movie. And frankly a disappointment. two stars.
It was awhile ago now.. but well worth the wait.
If you've ever watched The Office. It is pretty accurate description of the office I work in -- only add 35 additional characters to the mix.
Soo in an effort to boost the moral of us glorified bill collectors they had a summer fun day. This included our bosses grilling brick like hamburgers bought in bluk at costco -- they could have been expired but I was unable to check the packaging.
So we had all sorts of goodies to eat, burgers, hot dogs, all the picnicesque side dishes, cake, fruit tray etc. After we went to lunch at our designated times -- we would digest for an hour and then fun would begin.
XYZ had games for us to play. Ring Toss. Watermelon and Jalepeno eating contest. Ladder Golf and yes, a water balloon fight.
I'm sorry-- but I don't like participating in activities, let along physical ones with my co-workers - especially involving some sort of skill or tactile response. I'm just too klutzy for that business -- so I brought a lawn chair like several of my other co-workers who were too cool to participate. And we enjoyed our hour in the sun - smoking and talking - making comments about the XYZ Olympics.
The ring toss -- now I'm not excatly sure who picked this up -- but it wasn't the normal ring toss. It was an enflated shark - as if it were to be used in a pool. Needless to say no one played it. It just say abandonned on the grass.
The water balloon toss. Yes, this might be great fun if you were in comfy clothes or didn't want to get wet -- but mind you we all had to return to our desks to sit for a couple hours before we went home and I'm sorry but sitting around in wet clothes for 2 hours at my desk and another hour for my commute -- it just didn't sound appealing. Granted I could have brought a change a clothes as reconmended -- but alas I don't like changing my clothes at work -- I just can't picture myself half naked in the disgusting bathroom, so no thank you. Some people played they had fun and were ultimately surprised when they got wet. Shocking- water balloons hold water, and they break and you get wet. This is not a mystery of the world. But yet that was the reaction.
The eating contest. If they would have had a Bonzai Burger from Red Robin eating contest -- or a big mac contest -- I would have won hands down. But eating watermelon - that will only result in my peeing every 4.5 minutes instead of my average 17.5 minutes so I passed. But I did eat one piece and didn't swallow any seeds either -- cause I didn't want a watermelon to grow in my stomach - I have a hard enough time fitting into my pants. Jalepenos -- eww. That was for the manly men to prove they like things hot. Gross. Especially with all the news about jalepenos causing the ecoli virus. Ish cabibble.
Ladder Golf. This actually looked fun. Two balls on a string throwing them to get them to wrap around a upright ladder if you will. There were several jokes from my co-workers and manager about them being blue balls -- ha ha . Guess I work with people equally perverted and lapsing into jr. high moments. haha blue balls. But the guys were kinda hogging the game and I'm so klutzy I know that if I threw the blue balls -- they would have hit someone in the head -- and then the freudian slips would never cease.
So I sat- with a group of non participators. It was a nice day.
Wonder what it would have been like with hot firey coals to cross?
So if you are looking for a fantastic read --
I strongly reconmend that you pick up anything and everything by Laurie Notaro.
If you want to laugh that is -- I was laughing so hard last night as she described peeing into a fishing net while trying to catch kidney stones -- that I myself almost pee'd my pants.
You really must read her.
I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies): True Tales of a Loudmouth Girl by Laurie Notaro (the one I'm reading now)
The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death: Reflections on Revenge, Germophobia, and Laser Hair Removal by Laurie Notaro
The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club: True Tales from a Magnificent and Clumsy Life by Laurie Notaro
There's a (Slight) Chance I Might Be Going to Hell: A Novel of Sewer Pipes, Pageant Queens, and Big Trouble by Laurie Notaro
We Thought You Would Be Prettier: True Tales of the Dorkiest Girl Alive by Laurie Notaro (hillarious)
An Idiot Girl's Christmas: True Tales from the Top of the Naughty List by Laurie Notaro
Autobiography of a Fat Bride: True Tales of a Pretend Adulthood by Laurie Notaro
I do not have a poker face. I tell it like it is. I use body language to express myself. I am not a girly girl with magical purple and pink princess powers. I am however terrified of critters.
Now, I have some irrational fears, I know this, yet I still have them. I know that I am bigger and more mightier than the meager mouse, smarter than the average bat, and I have legs and arms so I have exponentially a larger quotient of appendages than any snake. Plus even at my small stature of being 4-11 and 3/4 (can't forget that part)
So despite all that I have in my favor against the critters in criterville -- I am still terrified.
So frightened that in face -- I see spots, sweat and shriek with out any sound coming out as if my body is in such shock it is unable to make noise.
Well Dave and I were heading out to grab dinner -- and there I see it-
Small beady eyes -- long skinny tail -- small brown body.. It's a mouse-- I scurry away and it stays perfectly still -- It could even be dead -- but In addition to my reflexes of silly erratic "get me the hell out of here ASAP" dance and prance -- arms flailing in the air -- the silent shriek- the bells in my ears -- the spots in my eyes and the sweat --- now I'm also gagging. Gagging over a mouse- this is ridiculous and apparently sooo funny in Dave's eyes that he wants to run in and get a video camera to have a reenactment. No, thank you - this delicate flower will have none of that. But it's happened --- Dave has seen me do the ridiculous dance and gag over my ridiculous fear. And so I asked him if he had any irrational fears -- his manly reply is no.
The Ped Egg.
It's a cheese grater for your feet.
and it's wonderful. It removed the dead skin from your feet with ease and lets you look at all the disgusting dead skin cells.
for 10.00 it's a steal!
*some of the details have been changed to protect, well, me.
I found a tumor in my ankle back in October. I went to the urgent care, saw a nurse practioner as it was swollen and hurt. They put me on antibiotics and sent me away.
Well it turns out - it wasn't a tumor just a bubble, if you will of ankle fluid. After taking my Rx the bubble was popped and felt better although never completly disappeared.
So now, the bubble has blown up again -- and I went to the doctor, not a nurse practioner -- I want someone who is not going to disregard my concerns and make fill a RX cause it's the easiest way to clear a body from an exam room.
This is a me on the phone:
Good Morning, I need to make an appointment with a doctor.
I have a anvil sized ballon inflated in my ankle.
Ok Moran-ski can see you on Monday.
Ok.
--
So I go to the clinic -- I wait in the uncomfortable chairs.
I meet with the nurse. I tell her I now have two issues -- I have the anvil in my ankle but I have an pea pod in my hip.
We go through my history -- boring crap
I get into the lovely paper gown to demonstrate that anvil has been hidden by my pants.
Then the Dr. comes in --
She doesn't look like a doctor.
She looks like a hippie.
I tell her my issues ... She is not a Doctor - but a stupid Nurse Practioner.
I try and describe the anvil in my ankle and she types it up in the computer.
Finally after 20 minutes of describing my issue with the anvil as I'm in my highly fashionable gown, she's finally ready to look at it.
She looks at it -- says she doesn't know what it is - writes some code on this pink piece of paper -- gives me an RX for antibiotics and says - I'll need to make an appointment with surgery.
Surgery? For what? You don't even know what it is? Don't you do some tests?
Nah, this is pretty superficial you don't need tests -- they'll just go in and take it out.
I have more questions but she is obviously to busy as she rushes me out the door.
I make my appointments: 1. Surgery for the Anvil 2. Consult with a dermatolgist for the pea pods she won't even look at.
I go back to work - talk to my mom -- and a couple work buddies -- and they all agree that the anvil needs a second opion.
So I call the next closest clinic that is not in the same network as the first -- I'm soo fed up with Mallina by now.
So I call to try and make an appointment.
"You need to call the billing office -- there is a hold on you, we can't make any appointments for you."
Ok so I call the billing office.
"No balance due. You should be able to make appointments"
I call the appointment line.
"There is this pop up I get when I type in your name and I can't make an appointment for you. It's saying something about a bill back in 2004."
I got really sick in 2004 -- didn't have insurance and it took me longer than the average bear to pay off -- but it was paid off.
I call the billing office. Voicemail. I punch zero with visisiitude.
"There shouldn't be a hold on your account -- "
'I know but - they told me that they get this pop up box preventing them from making appointments. I know I was a little slow to pay in the past when I didn't have health insurance-- but this bill has been satisfied.
"Oh, you have insurance? ( -- she now wants my provider name and group number and naming rights for my next pet fish) She said well you should be able to make an appointment -- I just re-checked the system to make sure you weren't blocked."
Call the appointment line -- make an appointment with a bonified Ankleologist. I even looked up his name to make sure he wasn't a NP or PA or a hippie.
I met with the Dr. and the anvil is nothing to worry about. It's not ankle cancer - It's not threatening - it can be deflated but should go down naturally. I don't need ankle surgery after all. Some bodies just get anvils from time to time and it's nothing to worry about. He went through what to watch out for in future inspections of my ankle and reconmended me to a dr that would be able to offer another opinion, and recomended a dr. for another one of my other health issues. He even looked at my pea pods and said they were a normal symptom of my other health issues and not to worry. I did get the "try and go for a walk everyday speech.." but that's ok -- I know that-- I'm just lazy.
So 1 year and 1 day ago Dave and I had our first date. Aww how precious.
I know what you're thinking -- "jeez louise another Dave blog." Well, I'm really not a super sap -- nor jumbo mushball -- I have moments, and I really can't help it if they occur when I'm in blog mode so blah!
Ok so 1 year ago we met for drinks -- decided on dinner and since then life hasn't been the same.
So what's so great about Dave anyways? I mean he doesn't eat his vegetables and he doesn't like cats... so he does have flaws...
Prior to Dave -- I was a commitment phobe - I had a string of relationships that were going through the motions but there was no foundation for anything, I would get bored and want to move on after that 3 month window. I'd go on dates and everyone was so fake -- or had ill intentions or just plain creeped me out.
So we took things slow, we never analyzed our relationship, and when everything was fresh and new - we didn't try to define it as a relationship -- so we don't have an "aniversary" like other couples. We've never put ourselves on this "where are we" scale -- cause once you do that you open a new bag of worms. We love eachother and that's about it, we're there for eachother to support one another, and laugh and eat expired meatballs and play UNO when I promise not to cheat, and it's fantastic.
Dave has been phenomenal support for me during my grief. Losing my dad, by far has been the hardest thing I've ever gone through - and Dave's been there for me He knows I'm going to cry for no apparent reason - and he'll just hold me -- knowing he can't make things better but- if he offers a ear, or holds me that I'll know that he's doing everything he can -- and that he hates to see me hurt.
And I'm not a total leech when it comes to support -- I'm there for Dave during his trials and tribulations -- but due to the boyfriend/girlfriend privacy act I'm not at liberty to blog about his ongoings.
So yeah -- 1 year for the former commitment phobe -- who would have thought a year could pass so quickly.
Sooo the other night I was over at Dave's for dinner.
I was supposed to cook chicken breasts -- but they were frozen. So instead of defrosting we changed our minds on a whim and decided to have meatballs.
You know quick easy- frozen meatballs -- zapped in the microwave, a variety of dipping sauces available from the fridge -- kraft mac n chese for our carbs on the side.
So I'm make the macaroni n cheese - gotta love the blue box. Dave's pulling out the possible dipping sauces -- and I'm putting the meatballs in the microwave. It's at this point I'm looking at his unique and varied condiments.
Honey, this barbeque sauce is expired.
Eh, it only a couple months - it won't kill us.
Fine, you can eat it.
Dave, this other barbeque sauce -- is expired... expired last year.
Manly man throws glass bottle into garbage for dramatic baskball player points.
Honey, let take a look at what else is expired:
Grape Jelly: expired: January 2007
Sour Cream: expired: April 2008
Honey Mustard: expired: February 2008
Yellow Mustard: expired: November 2007
Soy Sauce: expired: June 2007
Ketchup: safe
Ranch Dressing: safe
Blue Cheese Dressing: safe
A-1: June 2008
Sweet n Sour sauce: can not read expiration date-most likely expired
Miracle Marinade: expired: Febraury 2007
Ding. The meatballs are dinging, oh they still need a couple minutes.
I'm draining the noodles as Dave is throwing items into the trash -- so I'm not sure what these expired items were -- but he had several barbeque and steak sauces -- so
I can only imagine the expiration dates.
The meatball bag is still on the counter -- the meatballs are done, and macaroni is done.
Honey, the meatballs are expired.
Well, what do you expect we microwaved them?
No, seriously -- they expired January -- 2006.
Well -- they look fine.
Really?
So now I'm in a position -- he is not at all grossed out by this -- I can make him test a meatball -- but I know he'll just say they are fine, or I can be the brave one and eat a two year old meatball.
I eat it. We wait 15 minutes to make sure I don't get instant gout -
and I don't...
So we eat the meatballs that have been tucked away in the freezer.
Dipped in slightly expired sweet n sour sauce and perfectly made macaroni and cheese -- not expired in the least.
The aftermath consisted of very bad gas -- could have been the herbs and seasoning -- in the meatballs -- but I'm convinced it was our bodies telling us to throw the bag out. This is the first time - Dave has not wanted leftovers wrapped up for the next day.
The next day I was hoping I wouldn't need a butter knife like dear Ava did! And that's as graphic as I'm going to get in the poo poo report. For those of you who have no idea what that means -- think cement in the shape of mighty python.
Lucky Lyrics
Do you hear me,
I'm talking to you
Across the water across the deep blue ocean
Under the open sky, oh my, baby
I'm trying
Boy I hear you in my dreams
I feel your whisper across the sea
I keep you with me in my heart
You make it easier when life gets hard
I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
Ooohh ooooh oooh oooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
They don't know how long it takes
Waiting for a love like this
Every time we say goodbyeI wish we had one more kiss
I'll wait for you I promise you, I will
I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
Lucky we're in love every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday
And so I'm sailing through the sea
To an island where we'll meet
You'll hear the music fill the air
I'll put a flower in your hair
Though the breezes through trees
Move so pretty you're all I see
As the world keeps spinning round
You hold me right here right now
I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
I'm lucky we're in love every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday
Ooohh ooooh oooh oooh ooh ooh ooh oohOoooh ooooh oooh oooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
My sister got this CD for me and I love it -- and this is my new favorite song.
Kinda makes me want to sing and dance -- even though we all know how horrible both of those ideas are! haha.
SO anyways -- just thought I'd give a high five to the song. Yes, I'm that cool.
My good friend Ava is going to start dating again. She's had a couple hummdinger relationships and pseduo relationships were the friend card has been played in the most inoppertune time and now she is ready to at least entertain the idea of dating.
She's signed up on match.com -- my personal website hero. Not only did it provide a long tangent about dating that was orginally 3 posts but now just down to one, it brought Dave and I together -- (Dave = Xavier)
http://nerdygirlramblings.blogspot.com/2008/02/dating-diary.html
Some probably cliched words of wisdom for Ava:
Less is more in a profile. If he didn't write his whole life story that's okay, as long as his profile gives you a peak into his life and you can see or anticipate that he is a good person.
Less is not more in a person. If he's not a good person,if what he's saying is over the top and your internal lie detector goes off, or if he doesn't pay for the first date - that's a red flag, he is going on a date and going out on a date with you should be a priveledge, if he doesn't offer to do one gentlemanly thing like hold a door or bless you if you sneeze, or use proper table manners -- then don't think that he is trainable in this fashion. Yes, he might forget somethings as he will probably be distracted by your beauty. Men are simple that way -- cleavage and pretty hair is great at enducing extra nervousness. Both parties should be on best date behavior.
Smiles are important -- if your not smiling this is not a good sign, if he's not smiling -- and his jaw isn't wired shut-- this is also not a good sign.
Laughing is important -- if you don't laugh by at least the 2nd date with someone -- they just won't be funny enough for you.
Smarts are important -- if he doesn't have anything smart to say or he has difficulties figuring out how much to tip -- he's not ready to date an Ava.
Go in to each date with little or no expectations. Go on dates you think could possibly be disappointing, I didn't want to go on the original date with Dave, I thought he was just another guy, looking for a good time, not a good girl.
Be friends first, I know this is sounds lame -- but you have series of brief windows --
Window One: Stangers meeting in a public place for food and the promise of maybe meeting someone interesting, intriguing and or fantabulous.
Window Two: Accquaintences: This takes over after the first half hour. You placed a real life face with online profile.
Window Three: Friends: You have to be able to talk about things you would talk about with friends -- open yourself up
Now this is crucial stage -- it's either going to stay in friend zone or it going to go over into
Window Four: Possibility: This can also be labeled, attraction, crush, lust, infactuation etc. This is the dating window.
So good luck with your windows.
Now, after you have viewed several profiles -- you are bound to get a bizzilion messages -- you're guy instinct should tell you whether or not the Goober writing you is a good goober or bad a goober.
Don't exchange too many emails/ims etc. Talk on the phone instead. The emails and ims and texts only build up the expectations to much. Most people can't be fake on the phone, they can be corny or unwitty or have freudian slips -- but they don't have the time to edit thoughts like typing provides.
Example one: Nate -- I started chatting with Nate circa March 2006, we would chat every night and we would be fun and flirty and serious and I had this whole idea that we would be a fanastic couple, but he lived in Rochester. We went out on two dates. And it was decided that we should just be friends. And we are, to this day -- we don't talk on a daily basis like we did before -- but we do talk and are good friends.
Example two Nick -- We exchanged instead of IMs or Texts -- the longest emails I have ever written/ read in my life. We had one date -- all went well and then boom he was moving back to CT for brief rest before going on an adventure over seas for a new job.
So keep things brief let talking and going on dates be the means for learning about one another.
Good Luck, be safe, have fun.
So I took a vacation day today. I went down to Mankato last night to get Sissy.
On the way back -- we had several miles of orange cones. Dang road construction. We were behind a bus that kept it's turn signal on for 15 miles. So annoying. I'm also starting to think that road rage must be a genetic trait that my sister and I inherrited from our dad.
We arrived home, ordered pizza -- vegged out -- I fell asleep on the couch and then woke up at 2 to crawl off to bed. Very interesting eh?
This morning I woke up at 5. Yes, 5 on a vacation day. And then every hour on the hour thereafter until I gave up at 8. I got ready - took my car in for it's oil change that it gets every 45 days or so.
Came home -- blogged a bit, cause I'm super cool like that.
Ate some cold pizza --super yummerific.
Went to Mama Mia
came home -- blogging again...
and now I'm going out with mom and Sissy to Home Depot -- aka Builders Warehouse - not sure why my mom calls it that -- but she just does.
Another exciting friday night.
I'm sorry but nothing is better than butter. Dave argues that faux butter is better -- but I disagree, butter requires less of it to make things like a hot blueberry muffin or toast to taste yummirific. If I'm left to use a butter alternative -- I use more then am disappointed in the end when it doesn't have the buttery goodness.
Kinda makes me want to watch Kate and Leopold for the Farmer's Bounty commercial.
So it's movie season. This week alone I've been to three!
Step Brothers: Funny if gross things tickle your fancy. I did laugh a lot though, which is always good for those abdominals. The majority of the theatre was filled with 20 year old men, perfect if I was looking for a hunk of burning love for my sister -- but that was not the case -- it was for date night. It was funny though and I'm sure both Dave and my brother who saw it this week also, will be rattleing off quotes until it comes out just in time for Valentines day.
The Dark Knight: I loved it -- I just saw the Batman Begins last week and loved that one a little more, but this one gets the Kristen stamp of approval. Despite Ava's review, I thought that the joker stole the show and Heath Ledger's performance was top notch. I even had a mini nightmare about cutting my cheakers. My only complaint was regarding the IMAX theater which I saw it -- some parts were quite blurry. Hope they get around to fixing that.
Mama Mia: I went today with my sister to see the much anticipated Meryl Streep singing dancing fun show! I loved it, ABBA, Meryl Streep, Dancing and a wedding can't be better than that. I know, I know -- a musical -- but I love them. Dave will be happy that I saw it without him cause he wouldn't have made it through the first number.
Next week: The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 is coming out --and I can't wait!
I remember being little and watching national geographic tv shows with my dad. He was trying to take a saturday afternoon nap and knew that the only way I'd fall asleep is if he made me watch and listen about Elephants and Tigers.
I remember learning how to ride my bike -- I just got my training wheels off and he would jog behind me holding the metal loop of my pink banana seat bike and then how he let go -- and I was doing it by myself and then relized it -- I fell and scraped my knee.
I remember my dad calling me at work at 3:30 in the afternoon almost every day -- telling me what creatures were in the back yard -- or talking about the cake he just made. Then arriving home at 6 or so -- he wanted me to help him frost it and then eat it before dinner and give him my official thumbs up for approval.
I remember when I would be sad over a tramatic junior high or highschool relationship ending in turmoil and how he would offer to go over and talk to him and or beat him up.
I remember how in every year book he would write compliments of the chef. And I'm overwhelmed at see his handwriting on a scratch of paper.
I'm finding it harder now to remember his exact voice. But I can hear him from time to time crystal clear.
I remember fishing and working in the garden with him -- digging for worms, not afraid of leeches or nightcrawlers.
I remember once we left early in the morning to go fishing and we stopped somewhere to get breakfast and I wanted a California burger -- and the waitress said they weren't serving lunch but my dad asked her if they would be able to make french fries and serve them with pancakes.
I remeber learning how to mow the yard, and then him shaking his head when I finished and it looked like a drunken kangaroo was in charge of the yard.
Things I don't remember -- I don't remember the last time we hugged or said I love you- instead we spoke through the cats -- Riley Roo loves you dad -- Maxwell loves you Kristen.
Right now I'm living in this new world. Everything is now on a spectrum - before and after my dad died.
Funny things like a mounds bar can bring me to tears -- just because it was his favorite. Or today I had to take my car in to get an oil change -- this is something my Dad used to do for me since he knows I hate to wait around.
So I go to Slim's. I've never been there myself but my car is there almost every 45-50 days for it's oil change (yes, I drive that much -- sad isn't it?) But today I had to take it in myself -- last month my mom did this for me -- but she was busy today so voila -- I took a day off of work to hang out with my sister who is in town and my mom made me an appointment.
SO I get to Slim's park my car -- pull the seat back since no one but my sister could possibly sit in the drivers seat with it being pulled all the way forward.
I push it back -- and go inside. There is a older gentleman behind the counter -- his patches on shirt read: Slim's Motor Clinic on one side -- and Slim on the other. I go up to the counter -- say I am here for an oil change appointment and give my name. He's asks if I'm Randy's daughter and proceeds to tell me how sorry he is for my loss -- and that he knows it's hard and that he liked my dad and thought he was a real charachter. I hand over my keys and he says he'll get things started right away.
After sitting and waiting -- he pulls up the file in the computer and asks me what car it is -- I tell him and he wants to know which one -- he has two in his system -- I state the 06 - and that I traded the 04 in on a whim -- he's like that's right your dad said that. After my oil change he puts out his hand to shake -- I shake his hand and say nice to meet you. He said he missed my dad but it's nice to meet me and said how nice it was for him to take care of me by bringing my car in. I smile -- on the verge of tears as I leave.
I'm changing my name to Grace-- Dave calls me this on occaison -- when I do normal things and some how manage to hurt myself -- and inatimate objects around me.
I fall out of bed on a regular basis -- Dave's bed is higher than my bed and in the morning hours when I'm not quite with it yet -- my depth perception is off all of the time so I guess I can't always blame it on the morning grog -- but I fall out of bed.
I run into coffee tables -- I trip -- I drop things -I spill.
Coffee tables have turned me blue -- maybe I just can't walk straight. Maybe I got some clumsy gene from my parents -- but I make a fool out of myself trying to do normal everyday things.
I've slipped in the shower -- sprained an ankle doing it and hobble around on crutches getting into more trouble for my lack of equilibrium.
I have lots of sweaters and shirts that I bought for work and after one or two wearings they have a spot or a stain --
I some how manage to get chocolate on my khakki work pants almost everyday -- thank you Dockers for being so stain resistant!
The injuries have effected my life permanently -- I can no longer ski or ice skate due to poor ankles from spraining them on several occaisons -
Yesterday I droped a diet coke can on my big toe -- it hurts
I'm pretty much a disaster zone some or most of the time -- maybe I should consider wearing a hard hat at all times.
Nah, that would ruin the 1/7 good hair days I have in a week.
So in my quest to find a cure for hiccups -- I found some other old wives tales: Here is the A-Z list from: http://thelongestlistofthelongeststuffatthelongestdomainnameatlonglast.com
Acorns:
If you carry an acorn, you will have continued good luck and a long life. -- but I don't want a tree to grow in my pocket --
Bell:
It’s been said that the bells provide protection from demons as they are scared of the loud noise.
ding dong the witch is dead
Calves:
If the first baby calf born in the winter is white, it’s a sign that the winter will be very harsh.
my calves are lily white all year long... some people just don't tan!
Door:
It’s believed that leaving a house through any door other than the one that is used to enter the house is bad luck.
i'm thinking this was invented to keep teenagers from sneaking out! What about a fire? Well I guess the fire would be the bad luck?
Ears:
If your right ear itches, someone is saying something nice about you. If it’s the left, someone’s saying something bad about you.
I can't remember the last time my ears itched? Do chicken pox cancel this out -- well I suppose they created the vaccine so obviously -- what was I thinking!
Fingernails:
Cutting your nails on Friday or Sunday is bad luck. Fingernail clippings should be saved, burned, or buried to prevent bad luck. I've never burned my clippings -- they usually fly all over the place.
Good Friday:
The Friday before Easter is Good Friday. If someone dies on Good Friday, they will go directly to Heaven. Good to know -- but will the Easter bunny be notified in time?
Horseshoes:
Hanging a horseshoe above the door to any home will bring good luck to all who live there.
Western wear is always in fashion for home decor.
Itchy Nose:
It’s still said that if your nose itches, a fool is about to kiss you.
Kiss me baby.
Jogging:
You shouldn’t jog. It jumbles up your insides.
Agreed. Jogging should be outlawed.
Knitting:
Placing the needles in the balls of yarn will bring bad luck to anyone who used the item that yarn is used to make.
Good thing I crochet!
Leaves:
If you catch a falling leaf on the first day of fall, you will not get sick that whole winter.
Do I have to put it in my pocket with the acorn ---
Milk:
When boiling milk, it’s bad luck to let it run over the side of the pot.
Who boils milk?
Nose:
If your nose itches, you will soon get a visitor. Right nostril indicates a female visitor, left nostril indicates male visitor.
Scratch n Sniff
Onions:
If you make a wish over burning onions, it will come true.
Bunt onions for dinner -- who's hungry?
Pencil:
Use the same pencil for taking a test as was used for studying for the same test. The pencil will remember the answers.
I hate pencils -- does this still work with pens?
Robin:
Make a wish on the first robin you see in spring and it will come true – if you can finish making the wish before the robin flies away.
Thank god I don't have to put the robin in my pocket, it'd probably steal my acorn.
Scissors:
Dropping a pair of scissors means that your lover is seeing someone behind your back.
Well what if you are klutzy and without a lover?
Thirteen:
Thirteen is just an unlucky number in general.
ok.
Umbrella:
If an umbrella is dropped on the floor of a house, someone in that house is going to die shortly.
It's not the flag- -- I drop everything this concerns me.
Veil:
Bride’s wear veils due to the ancient belief that this will protect them from jealous evil spirits.
Well I'll remember that for my wedding day, It propbably keeps bees and mosquitoes away too!
Wood:
If speaking of good luck, knock on wood three times so evil spirits won’t take it away.
Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me, catchy tune.
X:
The lines on the palm of your right hand that show an “X” represent the number of children you will have.
Shit, by this I'm supposed to have 6 children...
Yawn:
Covering your mouth when you yawn will prevent your soul from leaving your body when you yawn.
I thought it was cause I had bad yawn breath?
Zzzzz:
Sorry, we fell asleep.
SO I get the hiccups from time to time -- and my cure is to take a sip any beverage through a straw -- plug my ears until the swallowed and then remove my fingers from ears -- and viola - no hiccups.
this website has some crazy alternatives:
http://www.musanim.com/mam/hiccup.htm
Put a spoon in a glass of water; drink the water with the handle of the spoon resting on your forehead.
Eat a dill pickle while you lie on your back with your mouth wide open; let your head hang over the edge of a couch or bed; breathe deeply and slowly.
Stand on a chair in a crowded room and say, “I have the hiccups!” loudly.
Massage right below your rib cage (on both sides).
Close the eyes, press the thumbs against the eyeballs with enough pressure to be mildly uncomfortable, hold that for thirty seconds at least (do not exceed 3 minutes, as blood flow to the retina could be compromised in a very select group with a longer than 3 minute exposure) then rapidly release. Some advocate holding your breath while doing this (which is reasonable since few can hold their breath longer than 3 minutes thus saving providing an automatic protection against unduly compromising the retinal blood flow.)
I wonder how many people have injured themselves with home remedies to cure the hiccups?
I have a friend let's call her -- Camille. Well Camille has a wonderful family - 3 kids, loving husband - a nice home. But something was missing for Camille and she cheated on her husband. Not just once -- not just with one man -- but with several men and on several occasions. In her guilt after realizing that she does indeed love her husband -- and doesn't want her marriage to be based on a lie -- she decided to tell him. She has realized that she has made this fatal flaw -- and the only way she could move past it was to tell him and face the reprecutions of her actions.
He decided to go on vacation -- alone. To think and contemplate this news. He returned yesterday from his brief hiatus and I'm not sure of the outcome. Although I want my friend to be happy and have her marriage succeed -- I don't condone her affairs. I can't -- maybe cause I'm so guilt ridden over every mistake I make -- and having an affair would be the easiest avoidable mistake there is -- maybe I believe too much in love --- granted I've never been married, never lived with a partner -- so maybe I don't know squat diddly nothing about this -- but I know that if you love someone -- you should want to work out whatever it is that might be missing - and going to greener pastures to look for the missing piece although an easy solution -- does not make it the right solution. Maybe I'm so upset over this because -- I can't imagine how anyone would be able to hurt the person you love this way-- you never get away from it -- you either have to admit to the infidelity or live with it - and both would be so difficult. Unless there is no love behind this and the marriage is a facade? I just don't know about that either -- I think they really love each other -- or once did -- but she mentioned that she got the 7 year itch.
I don't know if I can buy into that -- My parents were together for 30 years -- my grandparents together for 60, my great aunt and uncle -- 60+ I'm sure they all had difficult times but they seemed to work through them - and took their vows seriously -- til death do they part -- in sickness and in health -- in shitty times and not so shitty times. Why can't people just remember this?
Then I also try to see things from Phillip's point of view --how will he be able to trust her -- will he want an eye for an eye - and cheat on Camille? Will he hold this against her forever or will he be able to forgive her?
I know I would be able to forgive Dave if he cheated on me, but I don't think I'd be able to forget and it would take ages for me to reach the forgiveness point -- but I have infinite trust in him because I love him, and I'm sure he has the same trust in me. So why would someone even consider ruining this trust trying to fulfill and orgasmic need? I just don't get it --
