New Phases kinda stink.

March has been a bad month. I'll spare too much detail but let's just say that a major project I've been working on hit some serious snags this month. It's a project that completely dominates my life right now so when things go wrong it permeates every aspect of life. Hubb has been really edgy lately and I'm worried about him. He just never seems happy and I can't seem to figure out why or help in anyway. When I try we end up fighting. I hate that. Diablo's nickname is more appropriate than ever. I lose sleep over that child. I just don't know how to help her. We had a death in the family. Hubb missed a lot of work this month and though we'll be fine, financially, it has taken a more emotional toll than anything. I'm ready for him to go back to work.

I've noticed that trials often come in clusters.

For some reason when I'm stressed and struggling I start to miss people who give me or have given me comfort. This week I've been missing my "other mom". She was my mom's best friend, her husband is my dad's best friend. They were friends and neighbors for nearly 50 years. She died three years ago. This month her husband sold their home, though he actually relocated a couple of years ago, and her daughter and my mom cleaned it out. She had a lot of stuff! Most of it went to Goodwill or the like. Those of us who knew and loved her took some stuff home. It's funny how it just really seems like stuff. Just stuff. Nothing really of great value. Dishes, books, videos. Some rememberances of a woman who was truly one of the best women there ever was. A woman who loved and gave and served and cheered, not with stuff, but because she gave of herself and because everyone who knew her thought she was their best friend, and they were right.

I miss sitting in her kitchen and talking to her. Someone else lives there now and it just doesn't seem right. She should be there, making chocolate milk and toast and helping me feel better. I miss her. I know she's still out there somewhere, watching over, but I miss her laugh, her smiles, her hugs.

I found out a few days ago that her daughter, who is has been a close friend of mine since birth, has also sold her home and will be moving an hour south of "home". I'm struggling with that today. It represents a new phase for our families and our friendships. Our children are "third generation" friends! I know that things change. Most of the time I'm okay with that. Today I don't like it. I don't know what kind of change that will have on the dynamic of our relationship. It scares me. I feel a hole opening up that hurts.

It hurts.

It's like a re-opening of the wound that came into being when my second mom died. There's an aching lonliness just at the prospect of their departure. I'm not happy about it but the truth is that I wouldn't trade that ache away. The pain that comes from separation means that my life has been enriched by good people, good relationships. I treasure that. Better to have loved and lost...

I'll be okay. We'll be okay. We'll still be friends and I'll be greatful for the modern conveniences that make it possible to keep them in my life despite the distance. It just won't be the same.

New phases. Not a fan.

Catharsis

I need a catharsis.

I had to look up that word to make sure I was using it correctly. Sad. Here's the definition, in case you need it too.

1.
the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, esp. through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music.
2.
Medicine/Medical. purgation.
3.
Psychiatry.
a.
psychotherapy that encourages or permits the discharge of pent-up, socially unacceptable affects.
b.
discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition.

Yup. Blogging can sometimes be cathartic. Purge it, baby! I'm not sure why that is but that is exactly the reason I have this blog. So that I can pour out my little soul and it won't (hopefully) come back to haunt me. I need to say this.

I'm disgusted!

Whew. Needed that. A few years ago my uncle married a woman who seemed, on the surface, to be perfect for him. She lifted him up out of the gutter. He started dressing better, achieving more, being happier. He deserved it. He's a great guy who'd made some bad choices and had some bad luck. After they were married she started changing. She started being critical, nit-picky, offended, antagonistic. She made him feel guilty for everything he did wrong and placed all the blame for their problems squarely on his shoulders. Things got really bad for a while and we wondered if they'd divorce. They didn't. He accepted the blame and slowly started becoming distant, taking her side, getting depressed. She yelled at his parents, said his family was trash and that they had never accepted or reached out to her. This was as far from the truth as you could get. We'd all tried really hard to ignore what she was becoming because we were so impressed with the impact that she'd had on him in the first place. But time revealed her to be manipulative, selfish, untruthful and completely impossible to please. No matter how many times we knocked she'd slam the door in our faces and maintain we never did enough. Finally we gave up. And she managed to completely cut his ties to his family. He doesn't see or talk to any of us anymore, including his children, siblings and my grandparents, his own mom and dad. I consider that to be one of the greatest tragedies I have ever witnessed. It felt like a crisis for a long time.

My brother was married last summer. Begin saga. Crisis again. I can't even begin to describe how awful I felt when I learned a couple of weeks ago that they began having problems on day two. Its like a horrible repetitive nightmare. It has all the signs and symptoms of my uncle's marriage and I am terrified for my brother. He is an emotionally driven individual who tends toward self-depreciation. He's incredibly talented, good-looking, kind, thoughtful, and hard on himself. I fear that his wife, who is really good at being a victim, will convince him he's worthless. He'll easily believe her because that's his personality and he may never recover from a failed marriage. I don't, for a moment, think that he's all innocence here. I'm sure they have both had a huge part in the breaking of their relationship. The problem is that she's blaming him, and he's taking the blame. I don't know if they'll ever be able to fix it. Part of my doesn't even want them to. I'd just as soon not see him saddled with such a woman. But I know better than to think that he could just walk away unscathed and I don't know how long it would take him to heal enough to move on and be happy, if he ever could.

But that's not what has gotten me really ticked tonight. That part just makes my heart bleed. What makes me angry is that as soon as I found out about this mess I contacted her. HER! Not him. I did that too, but I contacted her first. I wanted her to know that I was concerned and praying for them. That I would help in any way I could. That I hoped they'd be able to work it out and both become better and learn to have a successful marriage. I told her that I considered her to be my sister and I wanted her to be happy. I promised that I was not taking sides. And today my mom said that she's mad because she doesn't feel like our family has reached out to support her.

WHAT THE HELL!?!?!? Sorry, pardon my french.

That makes me so angry. It makes me not even want to try with her. I'm not the type to give up so easily but after years of going through this with my uncle and his wife, can you blame me? I just want to smack her. I'm not perfect. Neither is my family. But we are caring, sensitive, accepting people. And I, for one, welcomed her to the family with open arms. Gave her the benefit of the doubt when some others had some serious concerns. I didn't judge, assume or predict. I offered her friendship and sisterhood. It feels like that has been tossed back in my face. Who does that?

So the question, dear cyberspace, is this. Is it really possible that with some people, no amount of effort will ever be enough? Are there those who are so self-absorbed and so hell-bent on being victimized that they truly cannot feel loved?

That was two questions. Two good questions. Two questions that may forever go unanswered. My mom said that she finally is starting to understand why parents sometimes have to stand back and let events unfold, especially where their children are concerned. I haven't learned to do that yet, even just for my brother. I'm all mama-bear over him. He's an adult. He made his bed, he'll lie in it. I still wish to spare him the grief. I can't do it. So my heart is bleeding.

Bleeding.

Can I quote you?

I love funny sayings, especially when they come from my own family. I actually have a quote book where I store them. Sometimes I put motivational or spiritual quotes in there but more often than not they just end up being funny things that my kids or my husband say. Today netted a good one...

because Hubb and I had a fight.


Again.


We've had a few of them lately. I think it is because we have hit a new phase lately. One that is seeing us busy, busy, busy. We've hardly had time together, he hardly sees the kids. It's high five on the way out the door and "See you next Tuesday." I hate it. And it has both of us tense, so therefore, we've fought a little more than normal. Nothing serious. No lawyers on the phone. But it's becoming difficult for both of us. I can't post this on my regular blog because I have a rep to protect. WE never fight. Not us!

So tonight as our disagreement wound down I remarked that I hated fighting all the time. His response...

"Then stop making me mad."

Maybe it should have made me angry but I laughed my head off. I never can stay mad at him. He's too good at making me laugh. But that's not the end. I felt bad for our argument and did penance by giving him a back rub. I asked if he forgave me since I rubbed his back.

His response...

"Yes, and I'll forgive you for the next two arguments if you'll rub my legs, too."

Love that man!

I don't want to be a mom tonight.

Is it tomorrow yet? I don't want to be a mom tonight. I'd just as soon skip it.

It has been a busy day. Busy with lots of kids, not even all of them mine. Maybe that is the reason I'm not in a mom kind of a mood tonight. I feel inundated with kids. Diablo had a particularly trying afternoon. Man, that kid can whine like no other! And she's incredibly persistent. I keep hoping one of these days she'll decide that she is absolutely, possitively going to be a good girl, come what may. If she decides that, no power in heaven or on earth will sway her from it. Kind of like tonight at the dinner table when she screamed at me for a full 15 minutes because she wanted to find her flip-flops. Notice that she never went to look for them, just yelled at me as I tried to explain that we were leaving soon to take Teaser to soccer and she already had shoes in the car so we didn't need another pair.

Tomorrow night I'm going out with my girlfriends. I live for nights like those. Nights when Hubb puts the kids to bed and deals with the whining himself. He gets to wrestle Diablo into her pajamas while she plays dead. He gets to remind Gem no less that 16 times to put her clothes in the laundry basket. He gets to put Chubb to bed 2 or 3 times before he'll go to sleep. I get to put on some sexy shoes and a shirt without snot rubbed on the shoulders. I get to pack my cute purse, the one that can't fit diapers and wipes. I get to talk to big girls who don't cry. I get to enjoy a dinner and dessert that I will regret all the next day. Bliss.

I can hardly wait. Really. The kids are watching a movie tonight until it is time for bed so I don't have to deal with them at the moment. Yessiree, Bob. I'm in no kind of a mom mood tonight. Or tomorrow. Maybe I'll try for Friday.

One last post before bed

I'm tired. I'm drained from worrying about my friends and from anticipating the repercussions that may come from getting dragged into the middle of the drama. I took a very long time getting milk at the grocery store tonight and then came home and plopped myself in front of the computer.

My brain feels a little fried. But at the moment I'm happy. Because I perused some old favorites. Blogs that are written by people who have a gift for words. Who see the best in hard situations. People who count their blessings, and laugh uproariously at their mistakes. People who make me smile and remember that life and even people are wonderful. There are fantastic things all around us.

Things like Pride and Prejudice! I'm so going to watch that movie tomorrow. I might invite Gem and Diablo to watch it with me, though it may be over the little one's head a bit. Because tonight I can't imagine anything more fun than watching my favorite love story with my girlies and gooing over Mr. Darcy.

Life is good. I'm done with drama for tonight. And maybe even for tomorrow.

Oh, the Jr. High school drama!

I haven't posted to this blog for a while. I have been busy. That is so cliche! But it's true.

I know no one has missed me because no one reads this. Why? Cuz I haven't told ANYONE about it. This is my spot for anonymity and where I can lay it all on the line without fear of retribution. It is the actual definition of a journal. Private. Mine.

A couple of my friends are involved in high drama right now and I'm caught in the middle. Feelings have been hurt, conclusions jumped to, mountains made of mole hills and all because one of them took her feelings public on her blog. The matter could have been dealt with between the parties involved but now the families and friends of both are sounding out, some are being very unkind, and a friendship that has spanned several years hangs in the balance. It makes me crazy!

We are all older, better and wiser than this! It's junior high drama at it's worst!

I don't want to be involved in this kind of drama. I'm refraining from passing judgement and trying to stay out of it as much as I can while being a good friend to both of these women who I truly care for and admire. I isn't easy. It's like juggling 6 balls in the air while walking a tight rope and whistling dixie. This friendship stuff is not for the faint of heart. Not for sissies.

Hubb just rolled his eyes when I told him of the problem. I think he's finally getting what I've been telling him for so long. Girls are all about drama. Even the grown-up variety.

What's the point? Well, now you know why I don't have an identity here. Nobody I know or care about will read this and think less of me and if I don't know you I don't care whether you think less of me. That's the hard truth, dear reader. So when I come back and bare my soul, I'll feel safe. I hope my blogger friend will find a safer way to bear her soul because everything we do has consequences. You can scream and shout all you want about how things should be but you can't always change how they ARE. If your opinion is "It's my blog and I'll say what I want" then you had better buck up and take the abuse that people give you when they disagree with what you wrote because nothing gets people fired up faster or hotter than a situation that is absolutely none of their business!

Deep breath. Back to the mele.

Miss Manners on acid

As I grow older I recoginze that my parents were right. SHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Don't tell them I said that. Sadly, they were right about most things and one of the things that they were right about is that kids have no respect these days. If it was true then, it's even more true now. Everywhere go I'm surrounded by kids and teenagers who are just rude and inconsiderate. It's an epidemic. But that's not really what this post is about. This post is about taking manners so far that it borders on absurd.

I called someone tonight. Her daughter answered the phone and at first I was very impressed by her phone manners.

Child: "Hello, you've reached the _____ residence." (Nice, huh? Perhaps a little stuffy but very polite.)

Me: "Hello, is ________ there?" (Maybe not the best question to ask but I find it usually gets the job done.)

Child: "Yes she is. Would you like to speak with her?"

Me: ...Pause... "Yes, please."

And all the while I'm waiting for her to come to the phone, I'm thinking... "Would I like to speak with her? No. I just called to check that she was there. (Said in my best sarcastic voice.) "Of course I want to talk to her! That's why I called!"

I'm all for phone manners but to me, it was just all too much. I have no doubt that the little darling was poised with a pen and message pad in hand before she picked up. I can't decide whether she would make a better secretary or answering machine. Yup, that's good manners gone a little to far, if you ask me.

I know. You didn't ask.

I've been neglecting my alter ego.

I've been neglecting my alter ego. I don't even remember the last time I posted to this blog. I could go back and check but that would be a bigger waste of time than posting to this blog. I've been neglecting The Rant Suit because there really hasn't been that much to rant about lately.

*Anybody who knows me knows that is a total LIE. I always have something to rant about. It's an ugly personality flaw. *

Let's just say that I've been trying to be a little more positive lately. I'm trying to see the good in things and concentrate on that instead of the things that annoy me. There are so many. It's harder to find the good things. At least for me. I recently caught up with an old friend and read her blog. Her gift amazed me. She was able to take the most mundane, ordinary, annoying things and turn them into learning and growing experiences, happy thoughts and inspiration.

I wish that were me.

But we celebrate the little milestones anyway. Today I read my relation's blog and chose not to put a comment on it. That may seem small but she put up a glowing movie review on a movie that I thought was boring with a capital B. She's not the kind of person you can disagree with so I chose to not injure her sensibilities or damage our relationship, which is tentative at best, and I didn't comment. It about killed me.

I'm not all the way there yet though. Another relation just had a baby and chose a simply ridiculous name for the child. I told her that she was going to spend a lot of time trying to comfort her child after he was beat up at school.

See. I'm not as good as I should be.

I haven't posted in a while. I wish I needed to make an apology to all of my dedicated reader but that would only be me. I'll get over it.

So here's the thought of the day. I'm completely unmotivated. I should be doing something really important right now. Or maybe even something just necessary, like cleaning the bathrooms. I'm not. I spend too much time on the computer lately and I'm starting to feel guilty about it. So I'm taking a little while off from my alter ego blog. My regular one will continue to be updated once in a while but for now I'm getting started on a project. A big project. It's Hubb's Christmas present. I hope he likes it and I hope I can get it done in a mere 11 days. I'd better get to work.

I love Christmas. I hope when it is all over that I'll get my motivation for the mundane things I should be doing back. I'm not holding my breath.

Not a big tipper

I went to get a pedicure with my sister today. Again. It is something she has talked me into recently although I'm really not that into my feet. I mostly only do this with her. It's a good excuse for some child-free time and it feels pretty good.

So we go into the pedicure place today and get our feet soaking and Pedicure Lady immediately gets to work on my sister's feet. Manicure Man was working on someone else and so I sat for about 8 minutes soaking my feet in the hot water and letting the massager go up-and-down on my back until he was done and came over to fondle my feet. It was nice, I'm not going to complain about that. What I am going to complain about is this. Pedicure Lady and Manicure Man finished up with our feet at almost exactly the same time which means that I got a pedicure that was 8 minutes shorter than my sisters but was charged exactly the same amount. I didn't leave much of a tip. Frankly he's lucky I left a tip at all because as he was painting my toenails I commented that the shade of pink was a little lighter than I thought it would be and he didn't even offer to let me get a different one. I have renamed him Sucky Manicure Man.

Oh, yeah, after we sat under the lights for a few minutes Pedicure Lady came over and removed the little foam thingies from between my sister's toes, helped her on with her sandals (which of course she knew to bring, being a regular, so her toenails wouldn't get messed up) and then walked over to the register and rang her up. I continued with my toes under the lights until she pointed at me (Sucky Manicure Man was nowhere to be seen) and said "You're done" as she stood by the register as I removed the foam thingies from between my own toes and grabbed my boots because that's all I had with me. I didn't put them on. I just wore the funky foam flip flops out to the car. I figured it was the least they could do after such obviously biased service.

In contrast, Darling Manicure Girl, who was working on someone's fingers but had been the one to do my sister's pedicure last time we were there (months ago) said to me, "You've been here before, right? Long time ago. Didn't you have new baby last time? You skinnier now."

I should have given her the tip.

Mama said there'll be days like this.

It's been sortof a crappy day. I won't go into all the reasons. Here are a few of the highlight moments that made me shake my head.

I went to Walmart. (No wonder it was a crappy day, I detest Walmart.) While trying to park someone tried to steal my parking space as I was pulling into it. I honked and got irritated at which point they stopped moving until I parked and then drove past me in a huff. I spent 3 extra minutes in my car thinking about how dumb that was because I was parked so close to the door and they would probably key my car on their way in and out. They didn't, but they probably thought about it.

When I came out of Walmart to the above mentioned car I loaded my stuff in and when I took Pudge out of the cart it started to roll and hit my bumper. It didn't do any damage and a guy who was standing nearby grabbed it for me and put it away. That may sound like a good thing but then he proceeded to stand a mere 6 feet from my car and have a cigarette while I finished buckling my kids in and tried not to breathe. I detest smokers. They are the rudest people on the planet.

On my way home it was one jerk after another pulling out in front of my car or cutting me off. I kept getting trapped behind slow vehicles. At one stop light, I was the last in a big long line of cars waiting to make a left turn and I didn't make it through. As I sat through the second cycle of lights I noticed one of the reds was sortof flickering. I think it was laughing at me.

I'm going to bed early tonight. Mama also always said that things look better in the morning. I hope she's right.

Happy to be Nappy?

I was looking through a magazine this morning and came across an idea for a book bin. It was essentially this. You make color copies of the front of some of your favorite picture books and slap them all over the outside of a big bin. Then you put books in it so the kiddos don't "have to pull the books off of the shelf". I won't even go into how stupid I think it is that we must spare our children the effort of pulling a book off of a shelf. But that is not what this post is about.

The title on one of the books was "Happy to be Nappy" and featured a little dark-skinned girl with . . . you guessed it . . . nappy ponytails. Now, I'm guessing that the author is a person of the dark-skinned variety. I'd stake money on it. Because if a person of the fair-skinned variety were to write a book with the word nappy in the title they'd be immediately accused of KKK and Arian Nation membership, they'd immediately be tarred and feathered, and they'd likely never work in this town again. That is assuming the book ever made it to publication in the first place, which is unlikely.

This BOTHERS me. The idea that it is somehow okay for one group of people to use derrogatory terms in reference to themselves but if anyone else uses the same terms they are racists. If t.v. and movies are any indication the "N" word (which is just horrible) is still alive and well, it's just that the only people who can say it anymore are . . . ? WHAT?

Just to save myself some time I'm going to henceforth refer to persons of the dark-skinned variety as black. It is not meant to be derogatorry, it just takes less time to type. I'm sorry, but I refuse to call them African Americans. No one has ever referred to me as an English American though some where in the past my ancestors were from England. It seems stupid as I have never been anywhere near England. Actually, I think I have some Indian ancestry as well so you can call me, what . . . an English Native American American? No thanks, I'm just an American. Most black people in the U.S. are just Americans. The term "black", while not really adequately describing their skin color, is simply a statement of differentiation the same as the term "white" applies to me but doesn't adequately describe my skin color. I'd call it more of a pasty, freckly peachish-pink.

I was in the car with my kids the other day and my daughter started to talk about one of her classmates, a black girl who has been her friend for several years. They've been in the same class together more than once, she's been to our house to play, and Gem has been invited to hers. She is definitely a minority where we live though we have a fair amount of diversity here. My children notice a difference in their skin color but we have always acted as if it were no big deal, so it isn't. In referring to her friend, Gem stumbled over what to call her. She started with "black" and then sortof stammered to "brown skinned" and ended with a feeble "whatever". It startled me. She is only nine years old and she already doesn't know what to say for fear of causing offense. She doesn't know why but she knows there are some terms that aren't politically correct so she's worried about hurting feelings. This isn't entirely a bad thing. I'm glad she's learning to choose her words carefully and desires not to cause hurt. What bothers me is that we have taken so many steps in our society so as to avoid offense that we are afraid to use descriptions. Well the truth is: Gem's friends looks different from us. She does. We look different from her.

If you ask me, the best way to stop giving offense is to stop taking it. The black community at large is doing better than it has ever done. There are true injustices that have been dealt in the past but those are largely gone now. Yes, predjudice is alive and well in some places but in most places it is disappearing. Black people have more opportunities than ever before and if we are honest with ourselves they have more opportunites than white people. White people cannot have their own colleges now. But black people can. Scholarships cannot be restricted to whites only but they can be restricted to blacks only. Don't even get me started on the NAACP, Black History Month and Affirimative Action.

Hubb and I sometimes joke that the best way to make it into professional schooling in this country is not to have good scores but to be a retarded black woman. No, it's not politically correct. I am usually not when I am trying to get a laugh. You'd have to know the whole history of our educational journey to get the joke probably. Sorry.

So despite the fact that I believe in equality I also believe in individuality. I believe in diversity and I believe in honesty. I don't believe that anyone is better or worse than anyone else. Sometimes I just want to scream from the rooftops "GET OVER IT!" Then maybe we can all just get along. I'll laugh with you at myself. You laugh with me at yourself. We'll all laugh at each other and appreciate our differences without getting stuck in the quagmire of appropriate terms and hurt feelings.

A Happy Childhood Day

Today I had grand plans. I was going to clean my blinds since Hubb lovingly asked my last night if we should hire someone to come in and clean them. I was going to sweep and mop. I was going to dust. I was going to wash towels. I was going to make a nice dinner.

Instead I held Pudge a lot. He likes to be held to go to sleep. It drives me crazy sometimes since it makes it really difficult to get things done. Today, I tried not to be annoyed by it but just to enjoy his incredibly yummy babyness. When Diablo got home from her playgroup (this was when I was going to dust but held Pudge instead) She wanted to play in the rain. Pudge sat in the stroller in the garage while she played and I worked on my photography skills. Then Diablo asked for a bath so we did baths in the middle of the day. That's when I should have been sweeping and mopping. When Gem and Teaser got home from school they wanted hot chocolate and marshmallows. That's when I should have been making dinner. Instead I started the towels and we had leftovers. After homework and piano practicing we watched a movie and I made a batch of cookies. I let them stay up late to finish the movie and I edited my photos to make up for my lack of photography skills. I didn't even consider cleaning the blinds. Maybe I'll take Hubb up on the offer and hire someone to do it.

I hope when they grow up and they are asked to speak in church on Mother's Day they won't tell everyone how dirty the house was. I hope they'll talk about the hot chocolate and cookies and playing in the rain. Today I just tried to make it a happy childhood day. Maybe tomorrow I'll get some of that housework done. Maybe I'll call just Merry Maids. You never know.

Some babies are not pretty

I'm sorry to be the one to say it. Some babies (and when I say babies I mean kids, too) are not pretty.

Not mine, of course. Moms are biased. We know we are.

Not yours, of course. (See comment about bias, above.)

I blog surf sometimes. Just clicking on links on the sidebar of whatever blog I happen to be on because I like to see where it takes me. I especially like to look at photography blogs. I'm noticing that there are lots and lots of people out there who fancy themselves to be photographers. Some of them are. Some of them are not.

But one thing even a great photographer cannot hide is an ugly kid. They can usually make them look better but it's never quite enough. And I wonder. Do you think the parents know? Does anyone really acknowledge that their child looks a little like Quasimodo with a skin rash? Do the photographers think to themselves, "No way I can make this kid appealing." Do they make the backgrounds more lavish to detract attention from the kid?

Please don't think me mean. I know full well that true beauty lies on the inside. Babies are great, and snuggly and sweet. Some of them just aren't very pretty.

I don't really like shopping. Or crusades.

I took my kids shopping today. They were out of school. That's like torture for me so I decided to share the love and I dragged all four of them out to look for shoes. We came home with a suitcase, a strainer and a snowman themed spoon rest. Every household should have one.

It wasn't altogether bad but while we were out I saw a bumper sticker that I'm still pondering. It read:

This vehicle uses only terrorist free gas and dinosaur free oil.

Okay, I get the terrorist free part. But dinosaur free? Please tell me we are not on a crusade now to save the dinosaurs. I'll save the whales. I'll race for the cure. I'll stamp out hunger. I'll immunize by 2. But I absolutely WILL NOT join a crusade to save the dinosaurs! Talk about a lost cause.

Wait.

Maybe if we could find a way to save the dinosaurs and set them on the terrorists....


Hmmmm.....

Off to get me a bumper sticker.

Hubb and Al E. 08 go on a date

So Hubb and I went out on a date last night. He actually asked me out a couple of days ago. I still love that. We've been married for over 10 years but I get all starry eyed and girly when I get to go on a date. I had to chuckle, though, because we did the same thing we usally do. We grab the coupon book and discuss all the places we could go and then go to the place we always go, which of course, has no coupon.

We decided to do some Christmas shopping after dinner for the kids. They've had a particular present in mind for some time now (it's one of those hot ticket items) and the store we went to had only one left in stock. Since we had only gone to learn more and start price shopping, I stared in amazement as Hubb stated that he didn't want to risk not getting one and proceeded to grab it, several accessories and companion pieces and even bought the extended warranty. Several hundred dollars later we strolled out of the store. This may not seem remarkable to most but to me, that is monumental. Hubb is one of the biggest tight wads on the planet. We had a good year this year. I think it may have gone to his head. I'm going to go shopping before it wears off.

I want to win, I want to win!

I'm trying to win some super cute Christmas cards.

They are here, if you want to take a look.


*update* Well, I'll be doggone! I won. It must have been my contest entry which I WRINKLED, excessively. My friend told me that's how you win contests. I didn't know it would work for virtual entries, too. Awesome!

The Day After

I am not usually one to wax political. I have little interest in politics, quite frankly. I hate the mud slinging and the tongue wagging. I hate self-serving politicians and lobbyists. I hate that the minority is always more vocal than the majority and usually get their screwed-up way just because they yell louder. I'm, by nature, very conservative but I don't always vote Republican. I try to follow the issues and make informed decisions but most of the time I don't watch T.V. on election night. I'll just see who won in the morning. (I do that with most sporting events, too. Sorry. We all have our interests.)

This year has been one of the longest of my life. I am SICK TO DEATH of political ads and campaigns and emails and signs. I was elated this morning just to be able to say "it's over". Unfortunately, the next presidential election will start sometime next February.

It just goes on tooooooooo long. I think we should pass a law in this country that says this:

If you want to run for public office you may not start campaigning until 3 months before the voting booths close.

You may not comment on anything any other political officer has done or said. Just tell us what you do and say. Tell us what you stand for.

If you cannot answer a question directly and honestly, you must shut up. Yes, or no, will do just fine.

If you take money for your campaign and you loose, you must give it all back. Okay, just kidding on that one. But, really, there should be a law that says if you raise more than 2 million dollars for your campaign you must give half of what you raise to a good cause.

I'm not going to say who I voted for. Frankly, it's no ones business. I didn't even tell Hubb. And he didn't tell me who he voted for either. I know both of us changed our minds more than once and both of us were unhappy with all the choices. I don't think the Founding Fathers ever had a two party system in mind, but here we are. It's a shame that a vote for any other party essentially equals a vote against the conservatives. It's a bigger shame that some people don't vote at all. I say if you don't vote you don't get to complain. Ever! This year, I think I may have voted just so I could keep my gritching rights. Sad.

I congratulate Senator McCain on a dignified loss. I thought his concession speech (the parts I heard on the news later) was great. I think Senator McCain is a good man. I don't agree with everything he has to say or his policies or choices. But I respect him and his desires for the country.

I congratulate Senator, and President Elect, Obama on a historic win. It is a remarkable thing to see a black man (well, half black, or less, really) be elected to the White House. I don't agree with all of his policies or choices, either. But I hope he will do good things for the country. I hope he will survive the assassination attempts! I hope his election will signal an end to racisim and discrimination in America. I hope from this point on that we will not have a need to discuss race at all. I hope we can really get down to the buisness of being equal. The pendulum can now start swinging back the other direction and stop in the middle. Let's just be people, shall we? Americans.

Now, for the first time in about a year, I am going to go to bed and not worry about who I will vote for. I'm glad that is over!

Love means never having to say you're sorry, and other crap

I've never seen the movie Love Story. My dad probably would have considered it high treason. He says that the all time worst movie line ever written came from that movie. Here it is:

Love means never having to say you're sorry.

I agree. That's total crap. In the real world, love means saying you're sorry at all times and in varied circumstances. You don't even have to be the one at fault. Sometimes saying "sorry" goes a long way to making the real perpetrator of jerkness start behaving like less of a jerk.

But that's not the real issue here. The real issue here is this. When someone has been behaving like a jerk and after two days of jerkdom suddenly says "I'm sorry I've been testy lately" and then goes on about their business as if nothing ever happened. No explanations. Is that supposed to make it all better?

Really?

Somehow I'm not feeling it. The all-betterness just ain't happenin' for me yet. I don't know when it will. The hurtful words just keep ringing through my head. I'm not trying to be mad. And I recognize a great deal of truth in what was said. I certainly can improve in the area mentioned. I'm pretty sure it wasn't meant to be as harsh as it sounded. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning.

Which brings me to another saying that I think is pretty much garbage. Never go to bed angry. Who wrote this? So, you just stay awake and keep fighting until everything is all better? Does anybody fight more rationally or get more patient and loving when they are tired? I don't think so. Sometimes it's better to sleep it off. Things always look better when you get further away from the crisis.

When Hubb and I got married we received some advice that I think is much better than "Never go to bed angry." It was "Never fight with your clothes on." That only applies to spouses, I hope. Don't try it with your teenagers. Can you imagine?

For now, I'm keeping my clothes on and going to bed. Well, I'll put my pajamas on and go to bed. I'll try to be less upset tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Bizarre Bazaar

I went to a bazaar today. Normally when I go to a bazaar (which isn't all that normal for me) I go to shop. Today I went to help my friend sell her stuff. Today, instead of looking at stuff I looked at people.

I love to watch people. First of all because it makes me (sometimes) feel better about myself. I am not a fabulously beautiful looker but at least I don't look like "frumpy sweatshirt lady". I don't mean for this to be an ugly post, though. When I people watch I don't really criticize, at least not all the time. Hey, I'm human, aren't I? Mostly I just observe. So as you read this, if anyone ever reads this, don't assume that I'm being rude about these people. They're just my observations.

First we had "cell phone couple". It took me a minute to realize they were together and even longer to realize they were running the booth next to mine. They both stood in the center of the aisle (people had to dodge them, of course) and talked on their cell phones. I'm assuming they weren't talking to each other. They did this for about 15 minutes! Just stood there. Talking on the phone. Then she hung up and fiddled around with stuff in her booth. Never did make it look any better. He kept up the cell phone conversations for a while longer. And he was wearing those weird looking shoes with the round springy thing on the heel. What is up with those? I don't care how "comfortable" they are. They look stupid!

Then we had "The Awesomest Grandma in America". No really, her sweatshirt said so. I don't know how awesome she really was but I think she was pretty good because she was kissing on a super cute baby.

"Doofy yakkity-yak guy" came by with his wife. This was a rather paunchy and aged man. He was wearing a button down shirt and courderoy trousers with a belt that went right around the fattest part of his middle. And he looked like he could have been a rocket scientist in some former life (not a cool one, the pocket protector type). He was talking away to his wife and she was not paying a lick of attention. I wondered if that was usually the case.

These two "tall, skinny, plain girls" came by. They could have been really stunning with a little effort. They were obviously sisters. I don't know if they just hadn't figured out what to do with their red hair or what. Maybe they were shy and didn't want to draw attention to themselves. It was too bad, really.

I heard the phrase "Mommy, can we go home now?" no less than 20 times. I don't think kids really like bazaars. I don't blame them. Some of the stuff is just bizarre! Here are my favorite products that I saw today. Mind you, some of these had actually been purchased!

A coffe filter tower. This had a cup and napkin on the top and then a huge stack of coffee filters and it all sat in a basket. No coffee with it.

A plate and tea cup on a stick. I think it was supposed to be stuck in a plant for decoration. To me it just looked like it was lost from the dog and pony show.

Stick stars. 5 Sticks, 5 nails. $8.00! I think I may sell those next year. That is some freaking awesome profit.

Gloves with dead rats hanging on them. Okay, they were fuzzy little muff things that had been added to the gloves. They came with matching dead rat scarves.

Shelaqued stumps. One had two pine cones on it and a candle, another had been made into a sconce. Seriously, people PAID for these!

I wish that I had had time to shop. I could have writen a book on the bizarreness of the day. It was fun, though. Every once in a while someone would sneak in with a stroller or a beverage and the bazaar people would chase them down. I hid a shake under my sweater while I entered. I figured if I was going to be there for a few hours the least they could do was let me have something to drink. It was yummy!