Giving my complete attention over to the debate ... More from me on this later.
Home For Lunch
I don't normally post stuff like this, but all you moms out there need to know the truth. And the truth is, the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser actually works ... Like a charm.
Tried it out last night on the kitchen walls and was over the top impressed.
With that being said, I must get back to work, though I'd much prefer to stay right here at home playing with the new kitten.
Tried it out last night on the kitchen walls and was over the top impressed.
With that being said, I must get back to work, though I'd much prefer to stay right here at home playing with the new kitten.
Tic-Tac-Toes
Certain things in life I just can't do ... I can't parallel park without being 2 feet from the curb, I can't go to a Barnes and Nobles without buying something, and I just can't say no to anything cute and adorable ...
Which is why I should know better than to go anywhere near the Humane Society, not even when I'm just going with someone else to help them choose a pet. Because as fate would have it, I fell in love. Fell in love and couldn't fathom leaving without her, although I tried. I lasted about two hours before I called the center back and said, "I'm coming back for my cat. Don't let anyone else take her."
And it's funny how you can wake up in the morning, with absolutely no clue about where your day might take you, or the things you might do once you're there. But once you've made a decision, you just instinctively know it was the right thing to do and you can't imagine doing anything else.
So I went down, filled out the papers, paid the small fee and took my new baby home, a 6 week old black kitten with eyes so amazing, it takes looking twice to convince yourself you really saw their color, a mix of amber and slate blue, like a small flame igniting. I named her Octavia.
Octavia because the name just seemed to fit, both the season and the cat.
And with the Autumn leaves outside now vibrant with color, and the smell of fall lingering heavily in the air, October approaches, and I am intent on seeing it for it's beauty, rather than the silent death it brings to fragile flowers locked beneath the snow.
Hopping up and down with glee, KC was -as you might have guessed - overjoyed almost to the point of tears, as she heard a small meow coming from the back seat. And once we were home, it was more love at first sight, as child and kitten connected. Emma however, was none too pleased to see another cat in her territory. Downright hostile, I've spent most of the night keeping the two apart while trying to keep them together. But as it looks now, they'll have to stay separated for a bit while I'm at work, until they - they really meaning Emma - can learn how to play nice and co-exist in peace and harmony.
It should be interesting to say the least.
(Thanks for the comment Mom ... It's always nice to know someone cares ...)
Which is why I should know better than to go anywhere near the Humane Society, not even when I'm just going with someone else to help them choose a pet. Because as fate would have it, I fell in love. Fell in love and couldn't fathom leaving without her, although I tried. I lasted about two hours before I called the center back and said, "I'm coming back for my cat. Don't let anyone else take her."
And it's funny how you can wake up in the morning, with absolutely no clue about where your day might take you, or the things you might do once you're there. But once you've made a decision, you just instinctively know it was the right thing to do and you can't imagine doing anything else.
So I went down, filled out the papers, paid the small fee and took my new baby home, a 6 week old black kitten with eyes so amazing, it takes looking twice to convince yourself you really saw their color, a mix of amber and slate blue, like a small flame igniting. I named her Octavia.
Octavia because the name just seemed to fit, both the season and the cat.
And with the Autumn leaves outside now vibrant with color, and the smell of fall lingering heavily in the air, October approaches, and I am intent on seeing it for it's beauty, rather than the silent death it brings to fragile flowers locked beneath the snow.
Hopping up and down with glee, KC was -as you might have guessed - overjoyed almost to the point of tears, as she heard a small meow coming from the back seat. And once we were home, it was more love at first sight, as child and kitten connected. Emma however, was none too pleased to see another cat in her territory. Downright hostile, I've spent most of the night keeping the two apart while trying to keep them together. But as it looks now, they'll have to stay separated for a bit while I'm at work, until they - they really meaning Emma - can learn how to play nice and co-exist in peace and harmony.
It should be interesting to say the least.
(Thanks for the comment Mom ... It's always nice to know someone cares ...)
Bedtime for Bloggers
Too tired to make much sense tonight. So I'll keep this short.
Well, that's more than enough from me ...
Until tomorrow, when perhaps my eyes will stay open without the toothpicks.
Leave me a message! I'm feeling all sorts of lonely ... (sigh)
Well, that's more than enough from me ...
Until tomorrow, when perhaps my eyes will stay open without the toothpicks.
Leave me a message! I'm feeling all sorts of lonely ... (sigh)
Strains of Sprains
Well I've managed to blow the remainder of this weekend with what I believe is a sprained ankle, or at least a strained one at best. Not sure when I truly noticed how bad the pain was, but was quick to realize it on the stairs this morning when I ended up coming down on my ass. Let's talk about fun, shall we?
So I'm sitting here, foot elevated and wrapped in an ace bandage, thinking about all the things on my to do list today, that for the most part aren't going to be done. Some things however have to be done, like going to the store for a gallon of milk and just enough food to put in the cupboards so they don't appear completely empty.
And I know this sounds crazy, but I'm giving serious thought to looking for a second job. Not something I want to do indefinitely, but something to bring in some extra fund-age for things like Christmas and who knows, maybe even a car payment ... And I figure, if I can find someone to hire me to work every other weekend, while KC's away at her Dad's, it would be the perfect solution for all. KC won't miss me while I'm at job 2, and I'll have something to fill my time while she's away. Anyway, it's something for me to consider.
No more fireworks around here last night, other than when I got home there was another County Sheriff in the driveway, sporting a flashlight and shining it onto our mailboxes. Never one to be left in the dark to exactly what is going on, I walked up to him as bold as can be, inquiring on whether or not something was wrong ... Yet again. Turns out he was just trying to figure out the house numbers as he was looking for psycho boy's girlfriend. And me, being the concerned citizen that I am, eagerly pointed out exactly which door it was he was looking to knock on. With a wave, good luck and a thanks, I crossed the driveway back to the good side, and called it a night.
I suppose there's no time like the present to start the day ... Sprain, strain or not. Happy Sunday to all ...
So I'm sitting here, foot elevated and wrapped in an ace bandage, thinking about all the things on my to do list today, that for the most part aren't going to be done. Some things however have to be done, like going to the store for a gallon of milk and just enough food to put in the cupboards so they don't appear completely empty.
And I know this sounds crazy, but I'm giving serious thought to looking for a second job. Not something I want to do indefinitely, but something to bring in some extra fund-age for things like Christmas and who knows, maybe even a car payment ... And I figure, if I can find someone to hire me to work every other weekend, while KC's away at her Dad's, it would be the perfect solution for all. KC won't miss me while I'm at job 2, and I'll have something to fill my time while she's away. Anyway, it's something for me to consider.
No more fireworks around here last night, other than when I got home there was another County Sheriff in the driveway, sporting a flashlight and shining it onto our mailboxes. Never one to be left in the dark to exactly what is going on, I walked up to him as bold as can be, inquiring on whether or not something was wrong ... Yet again. Turns out he was just trying to figure out the house numbers as he was looking for psycho boy's girlfriend. And me, being the concerned citizen that I am, eagerly pointed out exactly which door it was he was looking to knock on. With a wave, good luck and a thanks, I crossed the driveway back to the good side, and called it a night.
I suppose there's no time like the present to start the day ... Sprain, strain or not. Happy Sunday to all ...
For The Love of Law Enforcement
Bright side of waking to find cops in the driveway (yet again this morning) is the fact that I woke up just in time to see them hauling psycho boy neighbor into the back seat complete with handcuffs. Not too sure about what's all been going on, but plan to find out later this morning once Sheila comes out to play. Because if anyone is bound to know the whole scoop, it's her.
This is what I do know however ... At precisely 9:01, I left my bed with plans only to leave long enough to shut off the fan. At that time, I looked out the window and noticed not one, not two, but exactly 4 County sheriff patrol cars, and one State Police car. With some very seriously good looking officers outside, I considered going outside to talk to them to not only (a) ensure the safety of my living habitat, (b) find out whether or not we'll have to worry about burglar boy coming back but to also (c) shamelessly flirt with them the entire time.
Considering my state of dress however, white and pink matching pajamas and some seriously scary bed hair, I opted to open the front door only and watch from a distance. Nosy or not, I think I've got a right to know what sort of crazy people live next door, especially when I'm in shooting distance. That and I always fashioned myself a modern day Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden. And it just so happens I've got law enforcement blood running through my veins. My great grandfather on my mother's side was the Chief of Police of Glens Falls way back in the day, with rumor to have also served in the FBI. With that kind of heritage, I could practically make a citizen's arrest ... Maybe I should go ask about joining up.
As for now, I really need to jump into the shower and get my day started. Called Dad and he wants to leave within the hour for our morning outing. It's always fun going out with Dad in public now that he's gotten to an age where sporting a fanny pack every where he goes is the in thing and he puts on his silly I'm your best friend voice while calling people he doesn't know Buddy. Oooh Sheila's home. Must go.
This is what I do know however ... At precisely 9:01, I left my bed with plans only to leave long enough to shut off the fan. At that time, I looked out the window and noticed not one, not two, but exactly 4 County sheriff patrol cars, and one State Police car. With some very seriously good looking officers outside, I considered going outside to talk to them to not only (a) ensure the safety of my living habitat, (b) find out whether or not we'll have to worry about burglar boy coming back but to also (c) shamelessly flirt with them the entire time.
Considering my state of dress however, white and pink matching pajamas and some seriously scary bed hair, I opted to open the front door only and watch from a distance. Nosy or not, I think I've got a right to know what sort of crazy people live next door, especially when I'm in shooting distance. That and I always fashioned myself a modern day Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden. And it just so happens I've got law enforcement blood running through my veins. My great grandfather on my mother's side was the Chief of Police of Glens Falls way back in the day, with rumor to have also served in the FBI. With that kind of heritage, I could practically make a citizen's arrest ... Maybe I should go ask about joining up.
As for now, I really need to jump into the shower and get my day started. Called Dad and he wants to leave within the hour for our morning outing. It's always fun going out with Dad in public now that he's gotten to an age where sporting a fanny pack every where he goes is the in thing and he puts on his silly I'm your best friend voice while calling people he doesn't know Buddy. Oooh Sheila's home. Must go.
Return of the Boys in Blue
Odd happenings again tonight. But then again I should have been able to predict that after seeing the burglar boys estranged wife's car in the driveway when I got home. I was hoping against hope, it was only a car that looked like hers, and that she wasn't back again for the second go round. Turns out, I was wrong on both counts.
Went to bed early tonight just shortly after blogging, and woke up about 45 minutes ago with a pair of extremely bright lights flashing into my eyes. Peeking out behind the curtains, the outline of the car in the dark night gave the telltale signs of having the woo woo's (as KC used to call them) on the top. And as luck would have it, there was not only one, but two state police vehicles in the driveway, handling yet another dispute between the new psycho neighbors that our landlords sacked us with. So much for pre-screening ...
Anyhoo, not wanting to be too nosy but liking to know what's going on in case nutcase next door pulls out an uzi, I opened the windows a bit more to listen in on all the yelling and screaming. Not so easy to do with two police cars idling in the driveway. And just as things appeared to be calming down, someone - not sure which - jumped into their SUV and went roaring off down the road at speeds I'm sure were illegal. Evidently the police officers thought much of the same since both of them jumped into their cars and high-tailed it right after, sending up a nice cloud of dust in our otherwise silent driveway.
With the event over, I was more than ready to go back to sleep. Sleep unfortunately not so easy to fall back into after such a rude awakening. And not for nothing, but all this drama is really getting a bit old. Considering I live with open fields in front, and a secluded marsh in back of my humble abode, I'm not used to having a to be continued episode of cops playing out every other night in the yard.
Yup, you just gotta love it.
Went to bed early tonight just shortly after blogging, and woke up about 45 minutes ago with a pair of extremely bright lights flashing into my eyes. Peeking out behind the curtains, the outline of the car in the dark night gave the telltale signs of having the woo woo's (as KC used to call them) on the top. And as luck would have it, there was not only one, but two state police vehicles in the driveway, handling yet another dispute between the new psycho neighbors that our landlords sacked us with. So much for pre-screening ...
Anyhoo, not wanting to be too nosy but liking to know what's going on in case nutcase next door pulls out an uzi, I opened the windows a bit more to listen in on all the yelling and screaming. Not so easy to do with two police cars idling in the driveway. And just as things appeared to be calming down, someone - not sure which - jumped into their SUV and went roaring off down the road at speeds I'm sure were illegal. Evidently the police officers thought much of the same since both of them jumped into their cars and high-tailed it right after, sending up a nice cloud of dust in our otherwise silent driveway.
With the event over, I was more than ready to go back to sleep. Sleep unfortunately not so easy to fall back into after such a rude awakening. And not for nothing, but all this drama is really getting a bit old. Considering I live with open fields in front, and a secluded marsh in back of my humble abode, I'm not used to having a to be continued episode of cops playing out every other night in the yard.
Yup, you just gotta love it.
Extreme Car Buying
Car shopping with Dad tomorrow. Not that I'm going to buy the first thing I see, although knowing the state of my current car, that may not be such a bad idea.
I had the breaks fixed last week and I was so happy that the car was actually stopping, that I went for a ride on roads I knew had lots of stop signs, just to feel them stop. A far cry from the sound of metal rubbing against metal I listened to for over a month.
Still, I'm not so sure buying a new, or even a new to me car is a good idea. Currently I have no car payment, and the thought of acquiring one makes my blood run cold. Especially when I keep reminding myself that winter is right around the corner and God only knows what sort of heating bills we'll experience this year.
The smart me says wait and play it safe. And yet at the same time, I know my car is not exactly the poster child for safe, despite having made some of the necessary repairs.
I guess I'll just have to see how tomorrow goes, although I really hope I don't get attacked by the salespeople. Nothing irritates me more than someone trying just a bit too hard to make a sale. Although, I do suppose that is their job ... Not saying however that I have to like it.
Oh well. I'm feeling a shade melancholy tonight, and am going to stop writing before any of it manages to find its way to written words.
I had the breaks fixed last week and I was so happy that the car was actually stopping, that I went for a ride on roads I knew had lots of stop signs, just to feel them stop. A far cry from the sound of metal rubbing against metal I listened to for over a month.
Still, I'm not so sure buying a new, or even a new to me car is a good idea. Currently I have no car payment, and the thought of acquiring one makes my blood run cold. Especially when I keep reminding myself that winter is right around the corner and God only knows what sort of heating bills we'll experience this year.
The smart me says wait and play it safe. And yet at the same time, I know my car is not exactly the poster child for safe, despite having made some of the necessary repairs.
I guess I'll just have to see how tomorrow goes, although I really hope I don't get attacked by the salespeople. Nothing irritates me more than someone trying just a bit too hard to make a sale. Although, I do suppose that is their job ... Not saying however that I have to like it.
Oh well. I'm feeling a shade melancholy tonight, and am going to stop writing before any of it manages to find its way to written words.
Conversations With the Sick and Twisted
"You need more stories about me on your blog," said my friend the evil twin today as we were talking on the phone. "You need to spice things up a little. You know talk about some other things, something a little more exciting then the usual stuff."
"So what exactly do you think I should write about?" I asked him, sketching the outline of an eyeball on my order pad, giving it incredibly long eyelashes.
"Well you could write about the words we talked about the other day."
"And what words would those be?" I said jokingly, knowing perfectly well which ones.
"Sticker. Liquor. Bumper. The ones I told you I was thinking about in the car while I was driving."
"Oh, that's right. The words that I said had "er" in common, just to irritate you ... You realize of course that if I write about that, my Mother is sure to say something about you needing a new hobby again right? What was it the last time?" I paused a moment, pretending to think. "I believe it was your hooked on phonics episode. You know the starts with "n" and ends in "pull" word jumble you emailed me. Mom really got a kick out of that one. Said you should take up basket weaving.."
He laughed evilly.
"Do you still have that beer I brought over to your house?"
"I told you, I don't drink beer."
"So the six packs intact then, huh? You know, if I had my own little corner in your house, I'd drop by more often ... Give you more things to write about."
"I am so not letting you have a corner in my house. You need to get over that idea. But do me a favor and warn me when you're coming over, cause the beers been sitting on top of the fridge and it's all nice and warm."
"Well, that's nothing ice can't cure."
"No ... No ice."
"What do you mean you don't have ice? Everyone has ice."
"Well, I have the ice cube trays but they're not filled. I never fill them. And don't ask me why, because I don't know."
"Hmmm," he said. "I guess I'll just have to bring a bag of ice with me when I come over then."
"That just might be the way to go. Of course, you realize I'm not promising to let you in."
"Because you'd rather have Doug over?" he questioned. "Oh, I see how you are now. You want Doug to have my corner ... And I thought we were friends."
"I think I may be ill. Do you mind not putting such disgusting thoughts into my brain. Ugh ...Really. And we are friends moron. Because I am such a nice girl after all."
"I don't like you because you're nice."
"What the hell kind of thing is that to say somebody? You don't like me cause I'm nice. I suppose that makes me what, the evil bitch from hell?" I lathered my voice with mock attitude.
"Oh please. Like I don't know you're just talking to me right now so you don't have to take other calls."
"Humph," I said. "Lucky for you, they're paging me for a call right now."
"Well then, I'll talk to you later," he said, preparing to hang up the phone.
"Oh hey Mike ... I just want you to know, I don't like you because you're nice either."
"So what exactly do you think I should write about?" I asked him, sketching the outline of an eyeball on my order pad, giving it incredibly long eyelashes.
"Well you could write about the words we talked about the other day."
"And what words would those be?" I said jokingly, knowing perfectly well which ones.
"Sticker. Liquor. Bumper. The ones I told you I was thinking about in the car while I was driving."
"Oh, that's right. The words that I said had "er" in common, just to irritate you ... You realize of course that if I write about that, my Mother is sure to say something about you needing a new hobby again right? What was it the last time?" I paused a moment, pretending to think. "I believe it was your hooked on phonics episode. You know the starts with "n" and ends in "pull" word jumble you emailed me. Mom really got a kick out of that one. Said you should take up basket weaving.."
He laughed evilly.
"Do you still have that beer I brought over to your house?"
"I told you, I don't drink beer."
"So the six packs intact then, huh? You know, if I had my own little corner in your house, I'd drop by more often ... Give you more things to write about."
"I am so not letting you have a corner in my house. You need to get over that idea. But do me a favor and warn me when you're coming over, cause the beers been sitting on top of the fridge and it's all nice and warm."
"Well, that's nothing ice can't cure."
"No ... No ice."
"What do you mean you don't have ice? Everyone has ice."
"Well, I have the ice cube trays but they're not filled. I never fill them. And don't ask me why, because I don't know."
"Hmmm," he said. "I guess I'll just have to bring a bag of ice with me when I come over then."
"That just might be the way to go. Of course, you realize I'm not promising to let you in."
"Because you'd rather have Doug over?" he questioned. "Oh, I see how you are now. You want Doug to have my corner ... And I thought we were friends."
"I think I may be ill. Do you mind not putting such disgusting thoughts into my brain. Ugh ...Really. And we are friends moron. Because I am such a nice girl after all."
"I don't like you because you're nice."
"What the hell kind of thing is that to say somebody? You don't like me cause I'm nice. I suppose that makes me what, the evil bitch from hell?" I lathered my voice with mock attitude.
"Oh please. Like I don't know you're just talking to me right now so you don't have to take other calls."
"Humph," I said. "Lucky for you, they're paging me for a call right now."
"Well then, I'll talk to you later," he said, preparing to hang up the phone.
"Oh hey Mike ... I just want you to know, I don't like you because you're nice either."
What madness is this, awake before the sun has even had a chance to rise? Awake prior to the alarm - which I did not set, going off. Awake when I could be sleeping for at least another hour, before being forced to wake to make it to work on time. I'm guessing I shouldn't have retired as early as I did last night. But then again, I was exhausted ...
I had an odd dream last night. A bit fuzzy now that my eyes are open, remembering what it was about is rather difficult. Normally I have a keen memory for dreams, able to do a play by play of the wierder ones, retelling the events as if they had actually happened. But not this one. The memory is there, just swimming around at the back of my head, dancing on the tip of my tongue but refusing to be defined by words.
And I'm just having thoughts of having thoughts ... (Thanks to Tori for that keen reference.)
Cleaned my car yesterday while KC was at dance class, even dumped a pint of oil in since the damn thing had gotten low despite the fact that I haven't hit the 3000 mile marker for the change. Not that I exactly heed to that all the time anyway. And actually, I have to admit that if it weren't for my Dad, the oil would hardly get changed ever. He either takes it in himself to have it done, or nags me until I cave. And what a great nagger he is. Although if truth be known, my Mom has him beat by a mile. Lucky for me however, she lives in North Carolina where I can more or less, worm my way out of half the things she knows that I know I should be doing. (If this doesn't get me a comment from YM aka Your Mother, which in this case is actually My Mother, nothing will. Unless of course I'm being ignored. Which is nearly impossible to do.)
It's 5:30 a.m.
Perhaps I should go back upstairs to bed and stare at the ceiling for a bit before having to function on command this morning. Hmmm ... Decisions, decisions.
I had an odd dream last night. A bit fuzzy now that my eyes are open, remembering what it was about is rather difficult. Normally I have a keen memory for dreams, able to do a play by play of the wierder ones, retelling the events as if they had actually happened. But not this one. The memory is there, just swimming around at the back of my head, dancing on the tip of my tongue but refusing to be defined by words.
And I'm just having thoughts of having thoughts ... (Thanks to Tori for that keen reference.)
Cleaned my car yesterday while KC was at dance class, even dumped a pint of oil in since the damn thing had gotten low despite the fact that I haven't hit the 3000 mile marker for the change. Not that I exactly heed to that all the time anyway. And actually, I have to admit that if it weren't for my Dad, the oil would hardly get changed ever. He either takes it in himself to have it done, or nags me until I cave. And what a great nagger he is. Although if truth be known, my Mom has him beat by a mile. Lucky for me however, she lives in North Carolina where I can more or less, worm my way out of half the things she knows that I know I should be doing. (If this doesn't get me a comment from YM aka Your Mother, which in this case is actually My Mother, nothing will. Unless of course I'm being ignored. Which is nearly impossible to do.)
It's 5:30 a.m.
Perhaps I should go back upstairs to bed and stare at the ceiling for a bit before having to function on command this morning. Hmmm ... Decisions, decisions.
Twisted Reality
Watching the Amazing Race tonight and I'm thinking that Brenda and I would make a perfect team for a future show. And just because neither of us could find our way out of a paper bag, have no knowledge of driving stick, and aren't athletic in the least - unless you count some of the best badminton you've ever seen played in your entire life ... I still think we could give it a valiant effort. And heck, even if we lost in the first leg, we'd provide more entertainment in 30 minutes them some people have seen in an entire season.
Oh well, back to the finale.
** After post note: Way to go Chip & Kim!! The evil Colin has been defeated!! Woo Hoo!! **
Oh well, back to the finale.
** After post note: Way to go Chip & Kim!! The evil Colin has been defeated!! Woo Hoo!! **
Doubts of a Nation
Politics is the great divider. The unity of September 11th short lived, as political agendas and television campaigns direct their attention back to taking control over the White House. We've lost sight of the issues. Too busy digging up the past on both candidates, that we've completely ignored the truth of what the world is today.
And today it is a mess. A mess we helped create. Families has been torn asunder on both sides. Blood has been shed on both sides. Tears have been cried on both sides. And we are no closer to finding peace.
Instead we've learned to ignore the news. Learned how to turn away from grizzly images of real people being beheaded. Told to view the sight of blood like red paint splattered on the ground. And told that our cause is just, and this fight, this fight that we are all dying for is the good fight.
And yet I have doubts.
We've backed ourselves into a corner with this war, and now there is no easy way out. We've no choice but to see it through. But at what cost? How high the expense? How many thousand men and women do we let die before we stop this madness? And how to console families of those already lost? What do you say to the Mothers? The Fathers? Children now orphaned?
I have no answers. Dig deep enough, and you will see the government has none either.
I support my troops. Even as they fight a war with no apparent end in sight. And I pray for their safe return. A return to shores safer than the one they have landed on.
And so I ask my government to get back on course. To be honest with its people. And to think of our future.
And today it is a mess. A mess we helped create. Families has been torn asunder on both sides. Blood has been shed on both sides. Tears have been cried on both sides. And we are no closer to finding peace.
Instead we've learned to ignore the news. Learned how to turn away from grizzly images of real people being beheaded. Told to view the sight of blood like red paint splattered on the ground. And told that our cause is just, and this fight, this fight that we are all dying for is the good fight.
And yet I have doubts.
We've backed ourselves into a corner with this war, and now there is no easy way out. We've no choice but to see it through. But at what cost? How high the expense? How many thousand men and women do we let die before we stop this madness? And how to console families of those already lost? What do you say to the Mothers? The Fathers? Children now orphaned?
I have no answers. Dig deep enough, and you will see the government has none either.
I support my troops. Even as they fight a war with no apparent end in sight. And I pray for their safe return. A return to shores safer than the one they have landed on.
And so I ask my government to get back on course. To be honest with its people. And to think of our future.
Fun With Photography
How did I spend my Sunday ...
Well I could lie and say I looked at planes, but the truth is ... Well, you can see for yourself.
Well I could lie and say I looked at planes, but the truth is ... Well, you can see for yourself.
Photo Madness
Damn one hour photo and their ineptitude to live up to their name! If it weren't for them, the lateness of the hour and the fact that it is Sunday, I might now be holding today's ill-gotten pictures in my hands and posting them here for all the world to see.
Pictures I might add I should be ashamed of considering I used my zoom lens for evil and not for good. But then again, who am I to ignore one of God's little gifts when it's wrapped up in air force togs, and a Matt Damon smile.
And while the kids were busy watching the air show, which in my defense I did manage to snap a few pictures of planes and not just the good looking men who happened to be milling around, Brenda and I amused ourselves by acting like a couple of school girls in search of the "money" shot.
Like they say, the proof is in the pudding. But if I had to guess, my money shot is waiting at the one hour for me to come and collect it. Salivation here we come ...
With a day well spent outside, though a bit brisk even with the sun shining, I returned home ready to set myself to task with chores. Chores that lasted about two minutes before I was distracted by my neighbors outside. And like Sheila said, it's much too difficult to keep yourself indoors when the weather is so damn pleasing outside. And with Bob outside, it was even more pleasing. Especially considering that there are moments when I tend to be somewhat shameless. Flirting somewhat second nature, considering we practically sleep together already ... Of course there is a wall separating us and all that, but still - I can hear him softly snoring through the walls. I figure that's got to count for something ... or not.
Not that I'm really enamored by him at all, nice guy that he is. I more of less just like the opportunity to act like an ass around a man and not have to worry about the ramifications. It's another story when I do happen to like a guy however. In those cases, this mouth of mine that never seems to run out of things to say, clams up like I've taken a vow of silence. Ahhh, the world works in mysterious ways.
Anyhoo, it's getting late, and there's laundry in need of folding.
Pictures I might add I should be ashamed of considering I used my zoom lens for evil and not for good. But then again, who am I to ignore one of God's little gifts when it's wrapped up in air force togs, and a Matt Damon smile.
And while the kids were busy watching the air show, which in my defense I did manage to snap a few pictures of planes and not just the good looking men who happened to be milling around, Brenda and I amused ourselves by acting like a couple of school girls in search of the "money" shot.
Like they say, the proof is in the pudding. But if I had to guess, my money shot is waiting at the one hour for me to come and collect it. Salivation here we come ...
With a day well spent outside, though a bit brisk even with the sun shining, I returned home ready to set myself to task with chores. Chores that lasted about two minutes before I was distracted by my neighbors outside. And like Sheila said, it's much too difficult to keep yourself indoors when the weather is so damn pleasing outside. And with Bob outside, it was even more pleasing. Especially considering that there are moments when I tend to be somewhat shameless. Flirting somewhat second nature, considering we practically sleep together already ... Of course there is a wall separating us and all that, but still - I can hear him softly snoring through the walls. I figure that's got to count for something ... or not.
Not that I'm really enamored by him at all, nice guy that he is. I more of less just like the opportunity to act like an ass around a man and not have to worry about the ramifications. It's another story when I do happen to like a guy however. In those cases, this mouth of mine that never seems to run out of things to say, clams up like I've taken a vow of silence. Ahhh, the world works in mysterious ways.
Anyhoo, it's getting late, and there's laundry in need of folding.
An Almost Cat-astrophe
A close call today with Emma, and I'm afraid it was all my fault. Stupid me decided to take the cat outside for a bit to enjoy the sunshine, and didn't put her collar on quite tight enough. After spending the first few minutes cautiously surveying her surroundings, my little brain surgeon did a neat little trick, twisting herself just so that her collar was off within seconds, leaving me standing there in a full blown panic that she'd run towards the road, or away to a place where she would never find her way back.
Instead she took off for comfort beneath the car, settling herself smack dab in the middle where she couldn't be reached. Heart thumping speedily, I dropped down onto all fours until I was flat against the driveway and slid myself slowly beneath the car, until my hand managed to grab a handful of black fur. And it wasn't a moment too soon, as just then my neighbors dog Tober decided to make his presence known by watering his favorite tree in our front yard.
Emma not being a big fan of dogs, let me know immediately that it was time to be taken back inside, as her front claws sank deep into my shoulder. Which I did with all due haste, just thankful for the fact that KC was around to witness me coming a little too close to losing her best friend.
Instead she took off for comfort beneath the car, settling herself smack dab in the middle where she couldn't be reached. Heart thumping speedily, I dropped down onto all fours until I was flat against the driveway and slid myself slowly beneath the car, until my hand managed to grab a handful of black fur. And it wasn't a moment too soon, as just then my neighbors dog Tober decided to make his presence known by watering his favorite tree in our front yard.
Emma not being a big fan of dogs, let me know immediately that it was time to be taken back inside, as her front claws sank deep into my shoulder. Which I did with all due haste, just thankful for the fact that KC was around to witness me coming a little too close to losing her best friend.
Choices and Change
Complacency can be an easy thing to live with, as those of us who fear change already know. The funny thing is I've never been scared of anything long enough in my life to let myself pull back from the game and give up. And though I've been down, I've never let myself be counted out, at least never completely.
At times I can be downright cocky, with what some people might describe as an over-inflated opinion of self. Driven sometimes to prove to anyone who might be peeking a glance, and yet always more importantly to myself, that the things I want, truly want - are within my grasp, as long as I choose to reach. And I have owned them all, both my failures and my completions of jobs well done. Each time taking something new away, a lesson, a feeling, an insight on how I work in this strange world of ours.
And I crave this separation. To see the rare beauty brought on by individual thought, challenging what I know, to what I've been taught for years and years. And from the learning, making decisions for myself, by myself, with what I've learned, shouldering all the responsibility for my actions.
And yet, there are times when my confidence has been known to waiver. And I falter with uncertainty, turning to others to find support and compassion, trusting that they might point me in a better direction when my path has become unclear. And I need their voices, to build me up, and make me strong enough to want more, to do better. Though most of all, it's their understanding that I need.
Now here I am again, finding myself at a crossroads. Ready to take flight without worrying how solid the ground may be beneath me. Concerned, because once again not everyone is going to agree with my decision. But ready to bring them over and into my way of thinking. Because I want a chance. Because I'm ready for this change. And because I no longer feel complacent with where I'm at with my life.
At times I can be downright cocky, with what some people might describe as an over-inflated opinion of self. Driven sometimes to prove to anyone who might be peeking a glance, and yet always more importantly to myself, that the things I want, truly want - are within my grasp, as long as I choose to reach. And I have owned them all, both my failures and my completions of jobs well done. Each time taking something new away, a lesson, a feeling, an insight on how I work in this strange world of ours.
And I crave this separation. To see the rare beauty brought on by individual thought, challenging what I know, to what I've been taught for years and years. And from the learning, making decisions for myself, by myself, with what I've learned, shouldering all the responsibility for my actions.
And yet, there are times when my confidence has been known to waiver. And I falter with uncertainty, turning to others to find support and compassion, trusting that they might point me in a better direction when my path has become unclear. And I need their voices, to build me up, and make me strong enough to want more, to do better. Though most of all, it's their understanding that I need.
Now here I am again, finding myself at a crossroads. Ready to take flight without worrying how solid the ground may be beneath me. Concerned, because once again not everyone is going to agree with my decision. But ready to bring them over and into my way of thinking. Because I want a chance. Because I'm ready for this change. And because I no longer feel complacent with where I'm at with my life.
Shrews and Other Things
Hit the snooze button more than a couple times this morning and really should be getting ready - considering the time and the fact that by far, yesterday was my latest arrival to work ever in my five year history. Nine minutes late to be exact. Although I think that had more to do with KC than with anything else.
Waking up on the wrong side of the hemisphere, my little one decided it was her against the world yesterday. Unfortunately for me, I turned out to be the world, and on the receiving end of some pretty powerful words.
In KC's defense, she's normally a pretty good kid. A bit of an attitude now and then, although quite frankly I admire her spirit, and refuse to crush it, it's hard sometimes to deal with the things she says when she is in her full druthers.
Yesterday it was the, "I want to go live with Daddy, because Daddy would let me. And Daddy wouldn't be so mean." And while what I really wanted to share was my true opinion of her father, and how she'd find life living in his household, I kept my mouth shut at the same time I was bandaging up my heart.
Because I know she really didn't mean it. It's just the only thing she knows how to say when she needs to blow off steam, and I have to be the smart one and not take the bait. For when the tide rolls over, and the seas are calm again, she's back to being my darling daughter again.
Waking up on the wrong side of the hemisphere, my little one decided it was her against the world yesterday. Unfortunately for me, I turned out to be the world, and on the receiving end of some pretty powerful words.
In KC's defense, she's normally a pretty good kid. A bit of an attitude now and then, although quite frankly I admire her spirit, and refuse to crush it, it's hard sometimes to deal with the things she says when she is in her full druthers.
Yesterday it was the, "I want to go live with Daddy, because Daddy would let me. And Daddy wouldn't be so mean." And while what I really wanted to share was my true opinion of her father, and how she'd find life living in his household, I kept my mouth shut at the same time I was bandaging up my heart.
Because I know she really didn't mean it. It's just the only thing she knows how to say when she needs to blow off steam, and I have to be the smart one and not take the bait. For when the tide rolls over, and the seas are calm again, she's back to being my darling daughter again.
Sad, Pathetic Humor
Ok so I'm still awake (and bound to regret this in the morning when the alarm goes off) watching some late night comedy show doing a spoof on those in charge of running our country, when it suddenly occurs to me the odd and yet somewhat funny combination of the names of the two yutz's currently in power.
George BUSH and DICK Cheney ... A ying and yang if I ever saw one.
And to think of all the time I've wasted when I could have been making very bad jokes ... Damn. I must be slipping in my old age.
George BUSH and DICK Cheney ... A ying and yang if I ever saw one.
And to think of all the time I've wasted when I could have been making very bad jokes ... Damn. I must be slipping in my old age.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
Neighborhood Watch
Just to prove that I'm not crying wolf at all, it turns out that psycho boy next door has a prison record. As in just got out of prison record. And I am SO not filled with a warm and fuzzy feeling over the learning of this new information. Especially when hearing that KC's school was the scene of yet another showdown this afternoon between my neighbor, his estranged wife and the local police force. Evidently the father - aka psycho neighbor boy - attempted to abscond with the son without permission from the mom, causing one hell of a scene that every single child at KC's elementary witnessed while loading up to go home on their respective buses.
According to KC, whose heart is as deep as the ocean, their little boy was in complete hysterics, making her wish she could reach out to him to tell him everything would be okay. And I wish there was something I could do to help the poor kid out. It's so unfair that the adults who should be looking out for him and protecting him are too ignorant and selfish to do what's best for him. It makes me want to cry.
According to KC, whose heart is as deep as the ocean, their little boy was in complete hysterics, making her wish she could reach out to him to tell him everything would be okay. And I wish there was something I could do to help the poor kid out. It's so unfair that the adults who should be looking out for him and protecting him are too ignorant and selfish to do what's best for him. It makes me want to cry.
Blog Hour
I'm taking my time this morning about getting ready and getting out the door. After yesterday's early rush to work for an early morning meeting that didn't commence as early as we were told to be there - behind by 45 minutes to be exact - I'm not exactly in a rush to hit the highway and head to work. Not that I'm ever really in a rush to be there, other than when I'm already running late and taking the time to blog about it.
Speaking of blogging ... Yes, I am guilty as charged for missing a post last night. After racing around creation late after work looking for new ballet and tap shoes for KC - whose classes start tonight - and making dinner the very moment we got home, it was all I could do to send off a few emails before shutting down the computer for the evening. As for my guilt, I got over it. Though it probably had to do more with the book that I was reading more than anything else.
The funniest thing happened this morning however when my clock radio went off, announcing the waking hour. After writing an email last night, explaining my prowess in the kitchen with a Talking Heads metaphor, aka Burning Down the House, it was incredibly strange that the song that should wake me up this morning was that very one. Especially when considering that I haven't heard that song in forever. Very strange indeed.
Ach well, time for me to jump in the shower and get this day in motion.
Speaking of blogging ... Yes, I am guilty as charged for missing a post last night. After racing around creation late after work looking for new ballet and tap shoes for KC - whose classes start tonight - and making dinner the very moment we got home, it was all I could do to send off a few emails before shutting down the computer for the evening. As for my guilt, I got over it. Though it probably had to do more with the book that I was reading more than anything else.
The funniest thing happened this morning however when my clock radio went off, announcing the waking hour. After writing an email last night, explaining my prowess in the kitchen with a Talking Heads metaphor, aka Burning Down the House, it was incredibly strange that the song that should wake me up this morning was that very one. Especially when considering that I haven't heard that song in forever. Very strange indeed.
Ach well, time for me to jump in the shower and get this day in motion.
Small Worlds
An uneventful trip to Wally world this evening, leaves me wondering why after a successful 3 month boycott, I had to go and blow it, in search of under the bed tupperware containers. Containers which they had plenty of, although unfortunately for me, without any of the necessary lids to keep them closed, making my whole excursion pointless.
Small world that it is however, I ran into Bridget in the parking lot, and ended up standing outside having a chat for almost a good hour, before crying off and heading into the store. Like I said about work, the fit has really hit the shan necessitating an early meeting tomorrow morning, which if history proves true, will be about as proactive as doing nothing. Still with the amount of shouting Bridget was doing about work, we were garnering some odd stares from the people pushing around their carts in the parking lot. Between that and KC fidgeting like crazy to get the trip over and done with so she could return home all the sooner, I kept trying to close the conversation without seeming too eager to get a move on.
Psycho boy next door pretty much kept to himself today, opening the door once to look outside, before quickly slamming it shut, when he noticed that both Sheila and I were sitting outside. But for now, things seemed to have calmed down, though I still quite suspect it's only a matter of time before the powder keg will ignite. If I had to guess, this drama is far from being played out.
Small world that it is however, I ran into Bridget in the parking lot, and ended up standing outside having a chat for almost a good hour, before crying off and heading into the store. Like I said about work, the fit has really hit the shan necessitating an early meeting tomorrow morning, which if history proves true, will be about as proactive as doing nothing. Still with the amount of shouting Bridget was doing about work, we were garnering some odd stares from the people pushing around their carts in the parking lot. Between that and KC fidgeting like crazy to get the trip over and done with so she could return home all the sooner, I kept trying to close the conversation without seeming too eager to get a move on.
Psycho boy next door pretty much kept to himself today, opening the door once to look outside, before quickly slamming it shut, when he noticed that both Sheila and I were sitting outside. But for now, things seemed to have calmed down, though I still quite suspect it's only a matter of time before the powder keg will ignite. If I had to guess, this drama is far from being played out.
COPS Live
The situation this morning turned out to be a domestic dispute between the new neighbors. A fact which didn't surprise me in the least, considering I suspected from the very first day they moved in that the fireworks had only just begun.
Standing outside with my (sane) neighbors, and keeping KC on our side of the driveway, beyond situation meltdown, none of us bothered to hide our curiosity to the psycho drama playing out before us. And it was a drama, complete with door slamming, screaming obscenities, and two cops doing their best to keep the two combatants far apart from each other.
Depressing however, and the least entertaining of all was trying to keep their poor son occupied and out of harms way while this whole thing was going on. Luckily he was more than happy with the suggestion that he play with KC and KT in the backyard, kicking the giant purple ball back and forth, while his parents argued over every little thing, apartment, car, clothes, and keys without ever bothering once to mention their son.
With the guy's name on the lease, it turned out that the woman had to be the one to go. Collecting her son, despite his screaming that he wanted to stay and play with the girls, she strapped him in to the car and sped out of the driveway at top speed. After that, things pretty much settled down. The guy went back into his apartment, the cops left and we all went on with our day as planned.
That was until an hour or so later when KC decided to run outside to the car really quick and grab a CD out to listen to. A moment in which was just long enough for psycho guy next door to approach my daughter and ask her to ask me if I could give him a ride somewhere.
To say that I went over my own edge of reason, would be putting it mildly, too mildly. I was pissed off to hell and back. After the scene we had all just witnessed outside, it floored me that this guy would have the audacity to even look in our direction, let alone approach a child, and my child at that. I so don't fucking think so.
Bringing myself to my full intimidating five foot height, I shot him a look of utter revulsion as I pulled KC inside, turning my back on him and closing my door without so much as a word. Words not necessary considering my opinion was written all over my face.
Because if there is one thing in this world that I just won't tolerate, it's a man with a short fuse and a nasty temper. Not now, not tomorrow and certainly not the day after never.
Problem is he's still here, living one short walk away across the driveway and God only knows whether he's mentally stable or not. So much for living in the middle of nowhere to ensure safety, not when the new landlords are more interested in filling the space, rather than finding the right people to live here.
One can only hope, since I'm assuming this guy doesn't have a job, that he won't be able to afford the rent much longer. And it's not that I'm a cold hearted bitch against all men everywhere, it's just that until he's gone, my golden thread of safety dangles precariously in the wind.
Standing outside with my (sane) neighbors, and keeping KC on our side of the driveway, beyond situation meltdown, none of us bothered to hide our curiosity to the psycho drama playing out before us. And it was a drama, complete with door slamming, screaming obscenities, and two cops doing their best to keep the two combatants far apart from each other.
Depressing however, and the least entertaining of all was trying to keep their poor son occupied and out of harms way while this whole thing was going on. Luckily he was more than happy with the suggestion that he play with KC and KT in the backyard, kicking the giant purple ball back and forth, while his parents argued over every little thing, apartment, car, clothes, and keys without ever bothering once to mention their son.
With the guy's name on the lease, it turned out that the woman had to be the one to go. Collecting her son, despite his screaming that he wanted to stay and play with the girls, she strapped him in to the car and sped out of the driveway at top speed. After that, things pretty much settled down. The guy went back into his apartment, the cops left and we all went on with our day as planned.
That was until an hour or so later when KC decided to run outside to the car really quick and grab a CD out to listen to. A moment in which was just long enough for psycho guy next door to approach my daughter and ask her to ask me if I could give him a ride somewhere.
To say that I went over my own edge of reason, would be putting it mildly, too mildly. I was pissed off to hell and back. After the scene we had all just witnessed outside, it floored me that this guy would have the audacity to even look in our direction, let alone approach a child, and my child at that. I so don't fucking think so.
Bringing myself to my full intimidating five foot height, I shot him a look of utter revulsion as I pulled KC inside, turning my back on him and closing my door without so much as a word. Words not necessary considering my opinion was written all over my face.
Because if there is one thing in this world that I just won't tolerate, it's a man with a short fuse and a nasty temper. Not now, not tomorrow and certainly not the day after never.
Problem is he's still here, living one short walk away across the driveway and God only knows whether he's mentally stable or not. So much for living in the middle of nowhere to ensure safety, not when the new landlords are more interested in filling the space, rather than finding the right people to live here.
One can only hope, since I'm assuming this guy doesn't have a job, that he won't be able to afford the rent much longer. And it's not that I'm a cold hearted bitch against all men everywhere, it's just that until he's gone, my golden thread of safety dangles precariously in the wind.
A Moment of Concern
Am v. excited to see preview of much loved movie Bridget Jones (2) scheduled to be released on November 19, the v. day before my 30th birthday. Consider it to be like a gift from the Gods, as thank you for my continued support of the human race. Am definitely going to see the sequel the v. day it comes out, with or without anyone coming with. If necessary, I will sit in my theatre chair alone, minus sans popcorn, as I cannot tolerate tiny kernels that get stuck in your teeth, armed to the nines with ...
Oooh cops in the driveway ... Back in a moment.
Oooh cops in the driveway ... Back in a moment.
The Greatest Post Ever
Damn!!!
An entire post wiped out in a matter of seconds after spending the past 30 minutes typing away. Suffice it say, I am not a happy camper. And since there's not a lot I can do about it tonight, and I certainly don't feel up to typing it all again. I bid you all a pleasant evening until tomorrow.
Stacey signing off. Over and out.
An entire post wiped out in a matter of seconds after spending the past 30 minutes typing away. Suffice it say, I am not a happy camper. And since there's not a lot I can do about it tonight, and I certainly don't feel up to typing it all again. I bid you all a pleasant evening until tomorrow.
Stacey signing off. Over and out.
Mixed Reviews
All is well that ends well. And so ended my review today on a high note, despite having to argue for most of my points. Points I knew I damn well deserved, regardless of upper managements wish for me to concede that I was an average employee at best. A method I'm sure works well for them when it comes time to hand out raises, but since this was review only with no bonus cash in sight, I decided to throw my chips in with the big boys. The funny thing is, I won. And I'm amazed at how quick a mountain can crumble when you call it on its bluff. Besides anyone who attempts to give me anything less than the full five points when the category is articulate, has got to be kidding ...
I spent the rest of the day up to my eyeballs in work, and should have probably stayed late tonight to catch up, but with collective thoughts running towards happy hour after work, I made a quick phone call home to Pops, got him to settle in KC for the night and met up with my cronies at the bar. And I swear, the first touch of liquor on my lips couldn't have tasted any better.
From there we decided to grab some dinner at a nice Italian restaurant in the city. Sitting six around a round table, we ordered up calamari and greens for starters, from a waiter whose Italian accent seemed to come and go depending on the words coming out of his mouth. Contrived or not however, the service was excellent. Especially when considering what a rowdy crowd we were, laughing and carrying on as if we were the only people in the room. (While the other people in the room, probably wished we'd all just finish our dinners and leave.)
But it was truly a great time. Then again, I always have fun when hanging out with Mike, Sean, Toni and the other boys. And it certainly doesn't hurt that they have a habit of footing the bill on these excursions. Sweet!
I am however on my last legs. Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday. I am so in need of the weekend.
I spent the rest of the day up to my eyeballs in work, and should have probably stayed late tonight to catch up, but with collective thoughts running towards happy hour after work, I made a quick phone call home to Pops, got him to settle in KC for the night and met up with my cronies at the bar. And I swear, the first touch of liquor on my lips couldn't have tasted any better.
From there we decided to grab some dinner at a nice Italian restaurant in the city. Sitting six around a round table, we ordered up calamari and greens for starters, from a waiter whose Italian accent seemed to come and go depending on the words coming out of his mouth. Contrived or not however, the service was excellent. Especially when considering what a rowdy crowd we were, laughing and carrying on as if we were the only people in the room. (While the other people in the room, probably wished we'd all just finish our dinners and leave.)
But it was truly a great time. Then again, I always have fun when hanging out with Mike, Sean, Toni and the other boys. And it certainly doesn't hurt that they have a habit of footing the bill on these excursions. Sweet!
I am however on my last legs. Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday. I am so in need of the weekend.
High Irritability Warning
Doug the Slug is on my list. List of people I could do without. A total waste of air if you will. A lying, manipulative, lazy slimeball, good for nothing, moron of the first order. And I'm not just saying this to be bitchy behind his back, especially since I've gotten so good at being bitchy to his face. I've had it!
Had it with the snide little comments of innuendo. Done with the flagrant disregard for personal body space. Finished with the listening of stories even Paul Bunyan wouldn't have tried to pass off as true. And more than sick and tired of every single disgusting word that pops out of his mouth every damn hour of every damn day at work!
If I had my way, I'd throw the idiot into a locked trunk and call him Houdini. The last time around that is. Oh so conveniently without a key.
Still I wouldn't be as irritated as I currently am, if the jerkoff hadn't pulled a switcheroo, leaving me to wait another day for my review rather than when I was originally scheduled to go. And now I'm stuck with another night of anxiety, knowing they tore poor Toni, who may just be the most perfect employee ever, a new one with their inquisitor like style of reviewing. I swear she was shaking when she left the conference room.
I think I've decided though to do as I always do, when in these tense little situations of assume the guilt for everything that has ever gone wrong since being hired. I may be one of three, but at least when my turn comes up at bat, I'll be the only one willing to take a swing.
Had it with the snide little comments of innuendo. Done with the flagrant disregard for personal body space. Finished with the listening of stories even Paul Bunyan wouldn't have tried to pass off as true. And more than sick and tired of every single disgusting word that pops out of his mouth every damn hour of every damn day at work!
If I had my way, I'd throw the idiot into a locked trunk and call him Houdini. The last time around that is. Oh so conveniently without a key.
Still I wouldn't be as irritated as I currently am, if the jerkoff hadn't pulled a switcheroo, leaving me to wait another day for my review rather than when I was originally scheduled to go. And now I'm stuck with another night of anxiety, knowing they tore poor Toni, who may just be the most perfect employee ever, a new one with their inquisitor like style of reviewing. I swear she was shaking when she left the conference room.
I think I've decided though to do as I always do, when in these tense little situations of assume the guilt for everything that has ever gone wrong since being hired. I may be one of three, but at least when my turn comes up at bat, I'll be the only one willing to take a swing.
The Secret Life (and Death) of Bees
My neighbor Sheila came knocking on my door yesterday, her eye swollen shut and watering like a fury. It seems that an angry crop of bees came pouring out of a small hole in her ceiling upstairs while she was putting laundry away, and took her quite by surprise.
Despite pressing a cold compress against her poor face, which was really quite puffy after such an ordeal, she was kind enough to come over and let me know, so I could do a random bee check of my own. Lucky for me, no bees. Though I was armed to the teeth in hornet spray, and ready to move like lightning if necessary.
KC, of course decided to comfort Sheila outside by talking her ear off and it was slightly hard to tell what was paining Sheila more. I decided to forego the guessing, returning outside to clamp a hand over my daughter's mouth and apologize for little Miss Opinionated and her unplanned soliloquy, all the while secretly smiling that my daughter is the exact mirror image of me. God, she's cute ...
Anyhow, time to wake the little pumpkin up and get her ready for the first day back to school. Yay! No more shelling the big bucks out to the babysitter! And as for the bees, let's just say hibernation this year came a little early. Oh thank you wise exterminator.
Despite pressing a cold compress against her poor face, which was really quite puffy after such an ordeal, she was kind enough to come over and let me know, so I could do a random bee check of my own. Lucky for me, no bees. Though I was armed to the teeth in hornet spray, and ready to move like lightning if necessary.
KC, of course decided to comfort Sheila outside by talking her ear off and it was slightly hard to tell what was paining Sheila more. I decided to forego the guessing, returning outside to clamp a hand over my daughter's mouth and apologize for little Miss Opinionated and her unplanned soliloquy, all the while secretly smiling that my daughter is the exact mirror image of me. God, she's cute ...
Anyhow, time to wake the little pumpkin up and get her ready for the first day back to school. Yay! No more shelling the big bucks out to the babysitter! And as for the bees, let's just say hibernation this year came a little early. Oh thank you wise exterminator.
The Night Before Back to School
I'm such a Mom ...
I've spent the better part of two hours labeling miscellaneous school items with a sharpie marker, packing KC's backpack, filling out the required back to school forms, calculating the amount of money needed to pay for the first month of school lunches and then writing subsequent check, and finally as the last chore of the night, setting out KC's chosen attire for the big day.
Meanwhile KC went to bed hours ago, eager to rush through a nights sleep in order to start tomorrow all that sooner. The poor kid has been missing her friends something fierce all summer, with everyone scattered in every direction but home.
I suppose that's going to mean my phone will be ringing off the hook again soon, with gaggles of giggling girls calling non-stop to sigh over their third grade boy counterparts. Which means kissing my couch goodbye. Last year KC decided that talking on the phone required flipping herself upside down, hanging her head over the side of the couch and yakking away until her face began to turn purple. Although sometimes it was hard to tell if the purple was from all the blood rushing to her head or the fact that she didn't take the time to stop talking long enough to come up for air.
Either way, I feel a migraine coming on ... She's already asked to have a few girls over for a sleep-over this weekend. But I'm not sure I'm up to that just yet. I still remember well what happened the last time.
I've spent the better part of two hours labeling miscellaneous school items with a sharpie marker, packing KC's backpack, filling out the required back to school forms, calculating the amount of money needed to pay for the first month of school lunches and then writing subsequent check, and finally as the last chore of the night, setting out KC's chosen attire for the big day.
Meanwhile KC went to bed hours ago, eager to rush through a nights sleep in order to start tomorrow all that sooner. The poor kid has been missing her friends something fierce all summer, with everyone scattered in every direction but home.
I suppose that's going to mean my phone will be ringing off the hook again soon, with gaggles of giggling girls calling non-stop to sigh over their third grade boy counterparts. Which means kissing my couch goodbye. Last year KC decided that talking on the phone required flipping herself upside down, hanging her head over the side of the couch and yakking away until her face began to turn purple. Although sometimes it was hard to tell if the purple was from all the blood rushing to her head or the fact that she didn't take the time to stop talking long enough to come up for air.
Either way, I feel a migraine coming on ... She's already asked to have a few girls over for a sleep-over this weekend. But I'm not sure I'm up to that just yet. I still remember well what happened the last time.
Look Ma, No Hands ...
I can't sleep.
Although that may have something to do with the fact that my nose has been buried in a book for the last few hours, and far away from any pillow on which to slumber. And at some point, I'm going to have to learn the fine art of savoring a book, rather than pushing full throttle until I reach the end.
Heh, heh ... Be still little spark of evil genius in my brain. You can't possibly consider saying on the blog your Mother reads, and the one I might add she feels the need to show her friends (positively embarrassing by the way) that you're thinking of comparing the S-E-X word (I did not just say that) to reading in a speed accomplished sort of way. Although guessing, as I know myself better than anyone, which even at this late hour seems to make sense as I blather on, talking about myself to myself, a very smarmy thing to do indeed, that it's exactly what I've managed to do in a very short span of two paragraphs. For those not up to speed refer to following:
Current Scoreboard of Events
Evil Spark of Genius = 1
Stacey's Silent Little Shoulder Angel = 0
Bored out of my gourd, and quite possibly a bit overtired from a long weekend and the thought of going back to work tomorrow, I really should hasten myself off to bed. But then again, it seems rather pointless considering that when the alarm goes off, I'm going to hit the snooze button the required three times, before turning the damn thing off and going back to sleep, waking up just 15 minutes before I need to be at work.
I think I may just have to employ my old method of getting out of bed once more. Putting the alarm clock an extremely long distance from the bed, requiring some movement on my part to shut the damn thing, because it is a damn thing after all, off before crawling back to bed and doing it all again exactly nine minutes later. Perhaps I should put glutton for punishment on a t-shirt and wear it around. Better yet, I can think of a few people I should go visit in order to really make that statement true. Then I'd be a glutton for punishment with a guaranteed following.
Believe it or not, I have NOT - utilizing the use of capital letters to further prove my innocence - been drinking tonight. I just tend to get a little loopey on limited sleep and an overabundance of caffeine, of which I've imbibed in the past several hours copious amounts of Mountain Dew, which despite the pretty sounding name of said product looks more like yellow piss water than anything floating on down a tranquil mountain stream. Which is why I try never to mix the two with blogging because even I don't know what nonsense will come from my mouth and make it down in writing. Very, very bad ...
God forbid I ever manage to figure out how to turn on the computer after a night out with friends. I can't even fathom trying to pick up the pieces of one of those after midnight blogs. Although it should be said that I'm not one of those girls that goes out and gets trashed and ends up crying all over somebody the entire night, making them wish they'd never asked me along in the first place. Why do that, when a bit of drink turns you into the love goddess Aphrodite? The reason why I gave up shots after the last Christmas party, and the infamous biting incident. And no, I honestly did not mean to bite the poor guy, it just sort of happened that his shoulder came near my mouth at precisely the wrong time. And all I can say in my defense, is thank goodness I'm not a complete and utter lush except for the few odd times a year I'm dragged, feet dangling, to the local bar
Speaking of odd times a year, I've got a review tomorrow with one of the big wigs. A little out of the ordinary considering were in peak season, although I have a feeling it has less to do with me and more to do with someone else, who has been screwing up something fierce lately. Unfortunately that's hardly going to get me out of the one on one with Mr. Boredom himself, where I'll have to nod and appear interested while entertaining myself with the number of times he pushes his glasses back onto his face and fixes me with the look of a hairy eyeball. If I somehow manage to get out of there without giggling, I will be thoroughly impressed with myself. I however am not going to hold my breath. I'm as transparent as glass.
Although that may have something to do with the fact that my nose has been buried in a book for the last few hours, and far away from any pillow on which to slumber. And at some point, I'm going to have to learn the fine art of savoring a book, rather than pushing full throttle until I reach the end.
Heh, heh ... Be still little spark of evil genius in my brain. You can't possibly consider saying on the blog your Mother reads, and the one I might add she feels the need to show her friends (positively embarrassing by the way) that you're thinking of comparing the S-E-X word (I did not just say that) to reading in a speed accomplished sort of way. Although guessing, as I know myself better than anyone, which even at this late hour seems to make sense as I blather on, talking about myself to myself, a very smarmy thing to do indeed, that it's exactly what I've managed to do in a very short span of two paragraphs. For those not up to speed refer to following:
Current Scoreboard of Events
Evil Spark of Genius = 1
Stacey's Silent Little Shoulder Angel = 0
Bored out of my gourd, and quite possibly a bit overtired from a long weekend and the thought of going back to work tomorrow, I really should hasten myself off to bed. But then again, it seems rather pointless considering that when the alarm goes off, I'm going to hit the snooze button the required three times, before turning the damn thing off and going back to sleep, waking up just 15 minutes before I need to be at work.
I think I may just have to employ my old method of getting out of bed once more. Putting the alarm clock an extremely long distance from the bed, requiring some movement on my part to shut the damn thing, because it is a damn thing after all, off before crawling back to bed and doing it all again exactly nine minutes later. Perhaps I should put glutton for punishment on a t-shirt and wear it around. Better yet, I can think of a few people I should go visit in order to really make that statement true. Then I'd be a glutton for punishment with a guaranteed following.
Believe it or not, I have NOT - utilizing the use of capital letters to further prove my innocence - been drinking tonight. I just tend to get a little loopey on limited sleep and an overabundance of caffeine, of which I've imbibed in the past several hours copious amounts of Mountain Dew, which despite the pretty sounding name of said product looks more like yellow piss water than anything floating on down a tranquil mountain stream. Which is why I try never to mix the two with blogging because even I don't know what nonsense will come from my mouth and make it down in writing. Very, very bad ...
God forbid I ever manage to figure out how to turn on the computer after a night out with friends. I can't even fathom trying to pick up the pieces of one of those after midnight blogs. Although it should be said that I'm not one of those girls that goes out and gets trashed and ends up crying all over somebody the entire night, making them wish they'd never asked me along in the first place. Why do that, when a bit of drink turns you into the love goddess Aphrodite? The reason why I gave up shots after the last Christmas party, and the infamous biting incident. And no, I honestly did not mean to bite the poor guy, it just sort of happened that his shoulder came near my mouth at precisely the wrong time. And all I can say in my defense, is thank goodness I'm not a complete and utter lush except for the few odd times a year I'm dragged, feet dangling, to the local bar
Speaking of odd times a year, I've got a review tomorrow with one of the big wigs. A little out of the ordinary considering were in peak season, although I have a feeling it has less to do with me and more to do with someone else, who has been screwing up something fierce lately. Unfortunately that's hardly going to get me out of the one on one with Mr. Boredom himself, where I'll have to nod and appear interested while entertaining myself with the number of times he pushes his glasses back onto his face and fixes me with the look of a hairy eyeball. If I somehow manage to get out of there without giggling, I will be thoroughly impressed with myself. I however am not going to hold my breath. I'm as transparent as glass.
A Labor Day of Another Kind
For the record, there is not enough money in this world to ever convince me to do any of the nasty food eating stunts on Fear Factor. I am quite ready to ralph watching tonight's episode where the challenge is to dig into a huge plate of tomato eating caterpillars face first, capture the nasty little creatures with their mouths, chomp them up until they reach liquid form and spit them out into a six inch beaker. At which point, once they have filled the container to the red line, they must down it like a shot of tequila. I don't know about anyone else, but I'd be saying bring on the tequila long before I'd ever say bring on the bugs ... Worm notwithstanding, of course.
Another trip to Barnes and Noble today searching for the perfect book. But my trip was cut short when I suddenly went from feeling fine, to feeling like complete shit. And so instead of searching the aisles like I normally do, in a neat straight up and down fashion, I found myself clutching my forehead in my hand and holding on to a shelf for dear life praying to prevent a fainting spell. Not that I've ever fainted in my entire life, at least not any time that I can honestly remember, which does not include the time I tried it out just to see if I could get a certain someone's attention and a little unneeded CPR. But still, the nausea was so bad, it seemed like a perfectly possible possibility, and I for one was not keen on the idea of going down for the count in the midst of a large group of strangers. Not exactly my idea of a good time, if you know what I mean.
Thankfully enough I managed to make it through the checkout and out to my car, without ever having a bonding moment with their floor, where it occurred to me that I hadn't bothered with either breakfast or lunch. And I could only blame myself for my own stupidity for not having bothered to eat anything of sustenance this morning when I had more than ample time to fix something.
Shopping trip pretty much over as of that point, we headed home, purchase in tow to wrap the small, and yet expensive birthday present for Jamie. Per his own wish list, of which I am a firm believer of not straying from whenever possible, as it's a guaranteed success in the way of gift giving, I bought him the original cast recording of Jesus Christ Superstar. A pretty odd gift for most boys of his age (14) but one I am more than happy to buy when considering two things, (1) he's an honest Broadway buff, who enjoys the thrill of discovering new music and (2) my sister can't stand musicals on any kind. A double edged sword I am quick to yield whenever given the opportunity.
Happy Birthday to my favorite nephew, may you learn all the words to your new CD in a short amount of time and belt them out like the Broadway crooner you are meant to be ...
Another trip to Barnes and Noble today searching for the perfect book. But my trip was cut short when I suddenly went from feeling fine, to feeling like complete shit. And so instead of searching the aisles like I normally do, in a neat straight up and down fashion, I found myself clutching my forehead in my hand and holding on to a shelf for dear life praying to prevent a fainting spell. Not that I've ever fainted in my entire life, at least not any time that I can honestly remember, which does not include the time I tried it out just to see if I could get a certain someone's attention and a little unneeded CPR. But still, the nausea was so bad, it seemed like a perfectly possible possibility, and I for one was not keen on the idea of going down for the count in the midst of a large group of strangers. Not exactly my idea of a good time, if you know what I mean.
Thankfully enough I managed to make it through the checkout and out to my car, without ever having a bonding moment with their floor, where it occurred to me that I hadn't bothered with either breakfast or lunch. And I could only blame myself for my own stupidity for not having bothered to eat anything of sustenance this morning when I had more than ample time to fix something.
Shopping trip pretty much over as of that point, we headed home, purchase in tow to wrap the small, and yet expensive birthday present for Jamie. Per his own wish list, of which I am a firm believer of not straying from whenever possible, as it's a guaranteed success in the way of gift giving, I bought him the original cast recording of Jesus Christ Superstar. A pretty odd gift for most boys of his age (14) but one I am more than happy to buy when considering two things, (1) he's an honest Broadway buff, who enjoys the thrill of discovering new music and (2) my sister can't stand musicals on any kind. A double edged sword I am quick to yield whenever given the opportunity.
Happy Birthday to my favorite nephew, may you learn all the words to your new CD in a short amount of time and belt them out like the Broadway crooner you are meant to be ...
An Overabundance of Thoughts
I've been thinking about definitions tonight. How hard we try to put them on ourselves in order to prove who and what we are. And it occurred to me, that we are so much more than what we think. So much more than an ethnicity, a race, a gender, an occupation. So much more, but never seeing ourselves outside of our own definitions.
And I wonder what it is we're missing. Maybe all these definitions are just a way for us to hide behind ourselves. And instead of a way to prove the things that are unique about us, we're simply advertising what about us, is just like the rest of the world.
If that's the case, I wonder if any of us truly know what originality is.
And I wonder what it is we're missing. Maybe all these definitions are just a way for us to hide behind ourselves. And instead of a way to prove the things that are unique about us, we're simply advertising what about us, is just like the rest of the world.
If that's the case, I wonder if any of us truly know what originality is.
Going to Market
Why is it I always forget the most important thing on my list whenever I go grocery shopping? No matter how many times I remind myself to buy whatever it is I happen to need, I always seem to remember what I've forgotten at the exact moment my car pulls into the driveway at home. And writing it down on a list doesn't help me much either, as I normally do one of two things, forget the list in the car, or not even bother to consult it even once while in the store.
Last night, I forgot the dishwashing liquid and the hair spray, in favor of a full roasting chicken and a gallon of skim milk. Which means that in just a short while, I will be trekking my way back into town in order to correct my blunder. And since I'd like my dishes to be washed at some point this weekend, now is far better than later.
Still I don't know how happy I am about having to deal with the Saturday crowds at market, and the inevitable cashier who will question - once again, every item in my cart. Last night, he felt the need to comment about the amount of pasta products I was buying, to the point that I almost felt that I needed to defend myself and offer up explanation. "I'm cooking pastina for a family dinner," followed by "I'm Italian, what did you expect?" And last week, he was questioning a small tub of sour cream he thought was dip. Which of course I felt the need to set him straight on. As in, not dip ...
I think there's something about me that causes people to ask either the really dumb questions or tell me things most people would be smart enough to keep to themselves. I'm not quite sure what it is, but it's probably the exact same thing about me that entices 80 year old men to try to pick me up in the spice aisle. Sad but true, when the geriatric population thinks you're one hot sexy mama.
Last night, I forgot the dishwashing liquid and the hair spray, in favor of a full roasting chicken and a gallon of skim milk. Which means that in just a short while, I will be trekking my way back into town in order to correct my blunder. And since I'd like my dishes to be washed at some point this weekend, now is far better than later.
Still I don't know how happy I am about having to deal with the Saturday crowds at market, and the inevitable cashier who will question - once again, every item in my cart. Last night, he felt the need to comment about the amount of pasta products I was buying, to the point that I almost felt that I needed to defend myself and offer up explanation. "I'm cooking pastina for a family dinner," followed by "I'm Italian, what did you expect?" And last week, he was questioning a small tub of sour cream he thought was dip. Which of course I felt the need to set him straight on. As in, not dip ...
I think there's something about me that causes people to ask either the really dumb questions or tell me things most people would be smart enough to keep to themselves. I'm not quite sure what it is, but it's probably the exact same thing about me that entices 80 year old men to try to pick me up in the spice aisle. Sad but true, when the geriatric population thinks you're one hot sexy mama.
This Way to Friday
A bit hit and miss with posting yesterday. Sometimes it's funny how you can have a thousand thoughts with none of them worth their salt for writing down. So when I tried last night, tried thinking of something to get all bloggy about only to realize that I had a whole bunch of nothing, I decided to sign off, shut down and turn in for the night.
Today ended on an upswing. Work around the office was light today, and I spent more time goofing off than most anything else. Whether it was discussing tattoos with Mike, providing an intervention for Sean, or giving the cold shoulder to Slug, today was a much needed day for driving in the slow lane.
Meanwhile most -though not all - of my family spent the day in Syracuse enjoying the State Fair. Just my luck they picked the one day that I couldn't go. (Office politics mandate my presence, both the day before and the day after a scheduled holiday in order to be paid for the holiday itself.) Oh well, at least KC got to go with Grandpa and have a little pre-back to school fun. (But damn, I missed the Butter Sculpture!)
With KC spending the rest of the weekend with her Dad, things around here are going to be pretty quiet. Then again, anything could happen given enough time. For now, there is dinner to be made and emails to be written.
Today ended on an upswing. Work around the office was light today, and I spent more time goofing off than most anything else. Whether it was discussing tattoos with Mike, providing an intervention for Sean, or giving the cold shoulder to Slug, today was a much needed day for driving in the slow lane.
Meanwhile most -though not all - of my family spent the day in Syracuse enjoying the State Fair. Just my luck they picked the one day that I couldn't go. (Office politics mandate my presence, both the day before and the day after a scheduled holiday in order to be paid for the holiday itself.) Oh well, at least KC got to go with Grandpa and have a little pre-back to school fun. (But damn, I missed the Butter Sculpture!)
With KC spending the rest of the weekend with her Dad, things around here are going to be pretty quiet. Then again, anything could happen given enough time. For now, there is dinner to be made and emails to be written.
The Absence of Energy
Alright ... The power just went out and I am sitting here in the dark, with all the little bumps in the night scaring me half to death. Somebody go find me a candle and lead me upstairs ... I want (gulp) my Mommy ... And if I can't have that, well then anyone in the armed forces will do.
This is NWTLO signing off, quite literally.
This is NWTLO signing off, quite literally.
When Justice Is Hard to Find
I can't even begin to tell you how pissed off I am right now, having just learned that the case against Kobe Bryant will most likely be dropped.
Has he won? Has she won? Has anyone won? Or is this another case being swept under the rug, with innocence being bought for a price?
I find it hard to imagine that the charges brought against Kobe were false. I can't imagine willingly subjecting myself and my personal life to the eyes of the world, unless I was telling the absolute truth.
I could be wrong, but I believe I'm right. And it makes me sick to think that there is another rapist out there not behind bars and another one about to get out, considering how short their sentences usually are. It makes you wonder which side of the fence is really serving the life sentence.
Has he won? Has she won? Has anyone won? Or is this another case being swept under the rug, with innocence being bought for a price?
I find it hard to imagine that the charges brought against Kobe were false. I can't imagine willingly subjecting myself and my personal life to the eyes of the world, unless I was telling the absolute truth.
I could be wrong, but I believe I'm right. And it makes me sick to think that there is another rapist out there not behind bars and another one about to get out, considering how short their sentences usually are. It makes you wonder which side of the fence is really serving the life sentence.
Life's Little Lessons
When it comes to learning things the hard way, I'm sure there's a billboard poster somewhere out there with my face on it.
I've got skills. Skills like you wouldn't believe for making the wrong choice, at the wrong time, and shameful as it is to say, usually with the wrong guy.
That being said, I figure it's only fair of me to post a few of the things I've learned over the past couple of years. The following is a tribute to all of my finer mistakes.
I've got skills. Skills like you wouldn't believe for making the wrong choice, at the wrong time, and shameful as it is to say, usually with the wrong guy.
That being said, I figure it's only fair of me to post a few of the things I've learned over the past couple of years. The following is a tribute to all of my finer mistakes.
- Relationship Self-Help Books ... If you ever find yourself having to consult with a turn-the-page-as-you-go guru, you might as well let the relationship meet its inevitable demise right then and there. Relationships either work, or they don't ... Trying to read up on how to make your man stop acting like an asshole is an unachievable dream. Evolution isn't exactly a fast process, if you know what I mean ...
- Bridge Jumping ... If you're best friend jumps off a bridge, there is absolutely no rule set in stone that you're required to follow. However it is nice to have someone to commiserate your favorite mistakes with ...
- Taste of Freedom ... Moving away to college doesn't make it okay to stay up all night drinking until you puke, sleeping in 'til noon and skipping class to catch the most recent episode of Jeopardy. And under absolutely no circumstance should you risk your academic career to smoke a joint in the college library with a guy, just because you think he's hot ... (Photo evidence of said hotness available upon request.)
- But Everyone Else Is ... Having sex isn't like keeping up with the Jones's ... It's okay to wait for the right guy, and the right reason. Don't just do it to "see what you're missing." 9 times out of ten, you'll find out it's not much ... And remember, birth control is not an option!
- Honesty ... It's okay to tell your Mother everything ... Although you may want to wait a couple years on the more intensive stuff. Speaking of which, now would be a good time to admit to the keg party I had when my parents were in North Carolina, and I was home from college on break. Ahhh the refreshing sound of honesty.
- Mini Me ... Believe your Mother and Father when they warn you, that someday you will have a child just like yourself ... Speaking from nine years of experience, that rumor is completely based on truth!
And that as they say, is more than enough to grow on ...
All Moments Are Spare
Another morning waking up to the depressing sound of my alarm clock as I hit the snooze, pull the blankets back up over my head, and attempt to grab a few more precious seconds of sleep before the scenario starts all over again.
Turning the alarm off once and for all, I gave serious consideration to taking the day off, until finally propelling myself from my bed, and back to reality. Two days already of back to back overtime, kind of clues me in that now is not the time for playing hooky. No matter how good it sounds.
And with 10 minutes to get myself out the door, I'm not helping my cause by blogging at all. I'm not in the least bit ready to go, with my hair dripping wet and my war paint still sitting by my side rather than on my face.
Maybe when I get home tonight, I can get it together, posting something longer than a quick fix and answering all the emails in my inbox.
Until then ... Happy Hump Day!
Turning the alarm off once and for all, I gave serious consideration to taking the day off, until finally propelling myself from my bed, and back to reality. Two days already of back to back overtime, kind of clues me in that now is not the time for playing hooky. No matter how good it sounds.
And with 10 minutes to get myself out the door, I'm not helping my cause by blogging at all. I'm not in the least bit ready to go, with my hair dripping wet and my war paint still sitting by my side rather than on my face.
Maybe when I get home tonight, I can get it together, posting something longer than a quick fix and answering all the emails in my inbox.
Until then ... Happy Hump Day!
