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3月31日 Star vs RosieHave y'all been following the drama between Rosie O'Donnell and Star Jones-Reynolds? It's pretty funny stuff. I have to side with ol' Rosie on this.
Okay, Star is super secretive about her miraculous 150 lb weight loss and how she managed to lose all that weight. Won't say it was gastric bypass, won't say it wasn't - only that she had "medical intervention." But she's calling in and giving blow by blow details of her breast lift and tummy tuck. Star's reason for not making a public statement about how she lost weight is because she doesn't want to influence anyone one way or the other on what they should do about their own weight. (Reference 20/20 interview.) Can't blame her for that. What Rosie and I can't figure out is why she thinks it's not good to talk about how she lost weight but fine and dandy to talk about her boob job.
In my opinion Star doesn't want to talk about her weight loss stuff because fat is associated with words like weak, slovenly, lazy, etc, and Star presents herself as a strong black woman.
The medical community is slowly changing its attitude about people who can't seem to lose weight but society is not. Drug addiction, alcohol addiction are now seen as sicknesses, but people with food addiction are still treated like slobs who have no self control. Even people who do NOT eat are acknowledged as sick, so why wouldn't a person be considered sick if they can't help but eat too much? It's weird, and kinda sad.
To Star I say, "You Go Girl!" To Rosie I say, "Yeah, I know what you mean."
To Oprah I say, "Stop being so superior that you dieted and exercised your weight off and stop telling me I can do it, too. I can't afford a frickin' chef and personal trainer to live with me and follow me around to slap food outta my hand."
Speaking of boobs, tho. This morning I wore a new blouse to work that was a v-neck and showed a little more cleavage than I'm used to showing. One of the guys compliments the blouse and I say, "Yeah, but my boobs are hangin' out." His reply? "You say that like it's a BAD thing." Ha!! It's Friday, It's Payday - Oh, yeah!!!Ahhhhhh.......My favorite day of the month is here today. I get paid on the last working day of the month so it's awesome when that works out to be a Friday, too.
I did have a traumatic experience this week at the new hair salon I decided to try. Women with long hair are extremely paranoid about people cutting their hair so I was nervous to begin with. I drove like a bat outta hades to get there on time through 5:00 pm traffic, which, in my small city is irritating but not insurmountable. Yet when I got to the salon somebody else had been given my appointment time. Supposedly there was a computer glitch. (?) I think the glitch was named "dumb receptionist." Anyway, I'm standing there with my split ends and frizzy bangs looking at the receptionist and she just says, "Well, I'm sorry." Now, remember, I'm in Texas, so this sounded more like, "Way-ell, Ahm saw-reeee" in a sacharin sweet voice of a 40 year old woman trying to sound 16. Grrrrrrr... I left in a smoldering tizzy. There was only one person in the salon that acted like it bothered her that I was dismissed unceremoniously. So I stewed on that overnight and the next day called and spoke to the nice girl, thanking her for her concern over my plight the day before. Two shakes later the owner of the salon called and apologized profusely and offered me a free haircut. She coulda had me with a $5 discount, but I jumped all over the free deal. We set the appointment for the next day at 5:00. Well, sometime between that call and Thursday afternoon I went brain dead and thought I was still on Wednesday and that my appointment was still "the next day," resulting, of course, in me missing my free appointment. What a fricking MORON!! So I call the owner and tell her what I did and apologized all over myself. We rescheduled for today and I'm going with gift in hand for the hairdresser. I mean, I don't want to come outta there with a buzz cut because she's pissed over this whole deal. Gotta tell ya, tho, I felt pretty dang stupid this morning when I looked at my calendar and realized what I had done...
Something that is bugging the hell outta me - the new investigative committee that Bud Selig has appointed to study steroid use in the MLB back to 2002. HEY FELLAS! YOU'RE BEATING A DEAD HORSE!!! Come on, what are they trying to do? I'm not particularly a Barry Bonds fan, and he has been known to be a jerk for a while now, but it seems to me that "they" really want to pull his record outta the books. Why would the MLB ignore all the signs and reports of steroid use in their sport for so many years and now try to backtrack? It's over. It's done. No telling who all was doing it but you can look at "Before" and "After" pix of bunches of players and get a pretty good idea. Check out the cromagnon foreheads. Make some rules and guidelines now to use from here on out, and let it go! While Bonds, Sosa, and McGuire (mmm) were all in the race for the record, the MLB continued to ignore allegations of steroid use because these guys were selling tickets; they were making the sport popular again after player and umpire strikes had just about killed off the interest of all but the most die-hard baseball fans. In my opinion they're shooting themselves in the foot again. As umpires say when it's time - "LET'S PLAY BALL!"
Y'all have a good weekend. If you're looking for me I'll be on the couch with a cold beer watching the Final Four. HEAVEN!! 3月28日 Breathe Deep and Count to 10I've come to the conclusion that maybe I shouldn't take two weeks in a row off from work. I have the patience of a firecracker with a short fuse since my return to the office. Ugh. An example from yesterday:
Coach: Can you help me with this paperwork?
Lack of Patience Me: This paperwork that I've helped you with over and over and that everytime we do it "together" you say you'll be able to do it by yourself next time?
Coach: Yeah. I promise I'll watch you and do it myself next time.
Lack of Patience Me: So, are you really as useless as tits on a boar hog or do you honestly think I'm too stupid to figure out that your dumb act is a ploy to get me to do your paperwork?
Coach: Fine. I'll do it myself.
Lack of Patience Me: That's what I thought.
So, word is out. "Don't mess with MizAngie this week - SHE'S ON THE RAG." Ha!! Fooled them - I'm perimenopausal and I don't do "rag" anymore. Sorry, guys, what you see is plain ol' bitch. I'm not on the rag, I don't need to "get a little", nobody pissed in my Wheaties, and the boss is not on my case. Grrrrrrr.
I'm not just this way at work. Oh, no. I went to the grocery store today and got "cart rage." It should be a law....If your hair is blue or you're a stay at home mom with children who scream and/or cry in public you cannot drive or grocery shop between the hours of 7 & 9 am, 11 am-1 pm, or 4-6 pm when those of us that still have shit to do AND work an 8 hour day need to do things in a hurry. We don't have time to dodge the old and/or infirm while flying through the aisles buying groceries so we can get home at a decent time in the evening to lay on the couch, or whatever. Sheesh. And I can't tell you how many sloooowwwwww people I have to dodge on my way to work as I live close to the medical district.
Last Friday I was following a car along a busy street. It's a really wide street but only two lanes, with a double-yellow stripe down the center so no passing. The guy was going 15 in a 35!! I MIGHT have been following a littttllllle bit close. In fact, the guy almost had to pick my face out of his ass because he slammed on his brakes to let me know to back off. He shouldn't a oughta done that. That's like throwing down the gauntlet, which resulted in me following even closer. I hope I didn't cause that ol' guy to have a heart attack or anything because he was really pissed at me. I would have been perfectly willing to pass him inside our lane but he was hugging the double-yellow stripe and I wasn't willing to cross that. By God, I'm a law-abiding citizen! Is tailgating against the law in Texas or just obnoxious? If it's against the law, then I didn't really do it.
For all of you blue-hairs reading this and reaching a high level of pissivity, you'll love this... I recruited a young assistant football coach to model swimwear at a local charity event called "Girls Night Out." I told him there would be hundreds of women there drinking wine and getting horny and he would be one of a handful of men allowed in the building. His reply? "Yeah, there'll be a bunch of 50-60 year old women all over me." And yes, his tone indicated that that would NOT be a good thing. My gray hair and 49 year old eyes glared at him and he soon realized his faux pas. I told him that women of a certain age can and will do things that young girls don't even know about yet, and that boys like him are nothing but exercise. My argument sucked and as we both looked at the beautiful specimen of a girl (volleyball - the ones with the long legs and good butts) who works in my office we both knew that no matter what I knew how to do or was willing to do, it would be lots more fun to do less with the youngster. Shoot!
Okay, I ADMIT IT. I'm just in a pissy mood because I had to go back to work. By now most of you know my philosophy - "Misery loves company." I guess, tho, that I will try to calm down before somebody slaps the piss out of me. Tomorrow I will leave the house a little earlier in the morning, forego nooner errands, and be nicer to my fellow man. Well, at least I'll leave earlier.
BREEEEEEEATHE. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6....... 3月22日 BreakfastSince I'm a woman of leisure this week, I invited some of my co-workers over for brunch; the men's basketball coach, the men's soccer coach, and the athletic trainer. Wow, these guys can EAT. I fixed a pound of bacon, a pound of Polish sausage, a big slab of country ham, six pork chops, sausage gravy, buttermilk biscuits, cheese grits, hash browns, and scrambled eggs...with sweet tea to drink. If the grease and cholesterol from the food didn't kill them, the sugar in the tea oughta do 'em in. Anyway, the basketball coach had never had a fried pork chop. Whuuu??? In explanation...he's from Iowa. They don't even eat blackeyed peas up there. He pointed out that if the dish is titled "Fried _____", then it's most likely a Southern dish. I countered with, if the dish is described as "bland" then it's probably from Iowa. Now, I don't know if that's true or not as I've never eaten in Iowa, but something just needed to be said in retaliation. I will also say that he took to that fried pork chop like a duck to water. Today was quite a day of "firsts" for this guy what with the grits and gravy. He had had gravy before but not made with sausage.
It may be awhile before I make gravy again. Ya see, I let Timber (my dog) eat the leftovers. Then we played fetch for awhile and that involved a lot of running (on his part). I won't describe all this to you but know that the terms "puke" and "recycling the gravy" would be involved in the telling. {shiver} Dogs can be so sickening. Bleah.
Did anyone watch Oprah on Tuesday? (Daytime tv is the BEST.) She had some French woman on there who has written a book titled "French Women Don't Get Fat." Well, another reason to hate the French. Actually, what she said really made sense and it's the exact opposite to how I live, which probably explains a LOT. Anwyay, as I chowed down on all that food this morning I thought about Frenchie and how appalled she would be. Ha!
All this talk about food has made me hungry. Ha! I think I'll go heat up my leftover grits (sans gravy - I'm not ready for that yet after what I saw earlier - ugh). In honor of Frenchie, I will put the grits on a lovely plate and have a very small portion. In fact, I think I'll have three or four small portions and just honor the hell out of her! 3月21日 Time OffI don't know why but I took an extra week of vacation immediately following the week off I had for spring break. AND IT'S AWESOME. I could absolutely piddle-fart my life away and probably will after I retire on 12/31/07.
Today I got a pedicure because my friend gave me a gift certificate for St. Patrick's Day. Cha-ching wasn't there today so Ping-Pong did my pedicure. She was cool, and spoke English better than I (what with my drawl and allll). However, occasionally one of the girls would say something and there would be a flurry of Vietnamese talking and laughing. Y'all know I'm paranoid so I always think they're making fun of me. Anyway, to be nice, I asked Ping-Pong where she was from. I'm expecting her to say Saigon or something like that so I was a little taken aback when she said "Houston." (Be advised....if you ever visit Texas and you don't have a drawl or your drawl is different from ours, be prepared for almost everyone to ask, "Where ya from?" We can't help it.) After she said that I felt kinda silly so we didn't talk much after that. I just love those massaging chairs with the little foot whirlpools at the base. I wonder if they would let me come in and just sit in the chair with my feet in a warm whirlpool. Prolly not.
Then I got my eyebrows waxed. I had never done that before but had developed the need for this service. You see, I now have old lady eyes. FYI to all you youngsters out there who make fun of people who have to hold shit at arms length so they can see it - this is gonna happen to you. Yep. You rock along seeing just fine and then, the day after your fortieth birthday, WHAM, you're holding the written word away from you, pulling it back, trying to adjust and focus. It sucks. Anyway, I finally reached a point where I couldn't focus in on the tiny eyebrow hairs. I THOUGHT I was plucking a nice, clean area under my brow until my niece told me I needed to pluck. I told her I had just done so that morning and she did that little snort-laugh that she does when she thinks I'm crazy/stupid. (I've heard this snort-laugh a lot.) Soooo, she gets the magnifying mirror, my magnifying reading glasses, and takes me out on the porch in the sun. Holy moly. I looked like Sasquatch. Not only that, but I have a few GRAY hairs in my eyebrows. That was something I just didn't think about getting as I aged. I knew I would have gray hair as both parents grayed early, but nobody warned me about the gray eyebrows or the gray pubes. And the surprises just keep on comin'....
Speaking of time off.... the schoolteacher in Florida that had sex with her young student got off, er, so to speak. Thank goodness she has figured out who to blame for her getting it on with a minor. It's all the fault of her bipolarness and the media. Don't you know the little boy's mom feels like shit tonight? She had to decide whether to put her son through more hell by letting him testify, or drop the charges against the woman who took his innocence. I know the mom is pissed about what happened, and I agree that it was wrong and the woman oughta be strung up by her toenails, but I wonder if the son is all that upset. I mean, the teacher was pretty, the kid scored before he ever got outta junior high... Has he been warped and ruined or is he out there high-fiving his buddies? Ew, I just realized how double-standardy I sound. If that were a little girl I wouldn't wonder if she were high-fiving her buds. Ugh. Well, at least the woman got 7 years probation and 3 years house arrest. Now she'll have time to write her book. Maybe she can even play herself in the made-for-tv movie. 3月20日 AnonymityHumans are so weird. We create a name to use online so nobody will know who we are, we don't want people to know where our space is located and then, after reading someone's space for awhile, become very curious about them and their lives. And mostly we want to know what people look like. I wonder why. I read spaces that are hilarious, moving, raw, touching. Of my "regulars" that I read I want to give Doc a hug, drink a beer with JT, hang out with the Mad Family, get 3BN to fix my computer, have some wine and tell cat stories with Mannyed, and on and on and on. But I don't really want anyone to know very much about the real me. I'll tell stories on myself, tell some of my craziest thoughts because I know I won't be meeting anyone. I can kinda be what I want to be on this space and there only about 3-4 people who know whether I'm being honest or not (and I've often wished those people didn't know my space address.) I have lots of real-life friends but somehow that's different.
Chat rooms are much worse than a blog. Before I discovered Spaces I used to try to start dialogue in a chat room. Pffft. My first clue that this wasn't gonna work out should have been the names. There are lots of names with the number "69" in them, or the words "hot" and "easy". I tried several chat rooms including one for military families, a Dallas Cowboy chat room, and one for people in their 40s. Here's a sample of my attempts:
MizAngie: How 'bout them Cowboys?
HotnEasy69: You like Cowboys?
MizAngie: Yeah. I've been a fan for years.
HotnEasy69: You like Cowboys with big dicks?
I felt so naive and that's so unlike me. It became a game waiting to see how many people would reply and how long it would take to get a nasty response. Well, several and not long. I haven't been in a chat room since I created my space. I kept getting these mental pictures of really perverted people talking to me from their computers and touching themselves. YECH. Plus, I was terrified that HotnEasy69 might be a 14 year old hiding out in the family den.
I can't help but wonder how many feelings I've hurt by not returning the e-mails that end with "You must forward this to five other people and return to me to prove you really love me (or breast cancer victims or Jesus or whomever)." I bet I've broken a million "chain" e-mails. They irritate me, tho. I want to reply DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!! But that would be silly and quite useless.
If you like my space leave a comment or you will have bad luck for the rest of your life and your offspring will have bad luck and everyone you've ever met will also have bad luck. (Not really.) 3月19日 Well, HELL....Things in my life are just noooooot working out!
1. I was born on St. Patrick's Day, 1957, in San Patricio County, Texas. That's in south Texas, about fifty miles NW of Corpus Christi. I always felt there was some significance to being born on St Pat's day in St Pat's county. After forty-nine years I've decided there's absolutely no significance to it at all. I am now filing it the all-encompassing file of "shit happens." (This will have more significance after you read #4.)
2. My brother was born on 3/20, so I suggested to my family that we all meet in a central location (Waco, TX) to acknowledge my and my brother's births. We're too fricking old to celebrate so we just acknowledge. So, everyone but the two nieces were able to be in Waco on Saturday. I went on-line to see what might be happening in Waco on Saturday and I'll be damned if there wasn't a convention of.....LITTLE PEOPLE. You're thinking "so what?" Well, due to a traumatic experience when I was a child, I am uneasy around little people. Shitballs, I'm scared to death of them. I know it's absolutely irrational but I can't help it. And, I'm never mean or impolite to little people. Well, no meaner or more impolite than I am to anybody. I try to avoid so as not to make them or myself uncomfortable. I'm probably the only person on earth who believes the scariest part of The Wizard of Oz is not the Wicked Witch of the West, but Munchkinland. Brrrrr. So the one day this homebody decides to make a road trip to acknowledge a birthday that is absolutely depressing, I walk right into a nest of little people. Is there anyone out there who still has doubts that God has a sense of humor???
3. I bet on the Aggies in the second round. I don't usually bet. I usually feel that it jinxes the team I'm pulling for. And sure enough... I was so confident that LSU was overrated and did not deserve a #4 seed in the NCAA tourney, and my Aggies were on a roll, and my niece was in Vegas, sooooo..... Muddy-fuddy!! I blew it, they blew it, and I'm just SICK.
4. On the day after my 49th birthday, I crapped my pants. You know, ya hear about old people losing control of their bowels and stuff but you're never really prepared for it happening to you. Okay, I erroneously calculated the time it would take for me to get home from Corsicana. I stopped in Corsicana to "use the facilities" but it was a three-holer and another woman came into the toilet so I was unable to complete my mission. I have issues about people hearing or smelling my bodily functions so I think to myself that, yeah, I can make it the last hour home. And I did make it alllll the way to my front porch before disaster struck. Note to self: Might be better for someone I'll never see again to hear my poot than to crap my pants. YECH.
Okay, I did have some bright spots for the weekend. We finally went to the Dr. Pepper Museum in Waco after seeing the sign for 20 years and saying how "one of these days" we would go there. (We shoulda saved the admission price and just gone straight to the gift shop.) I had a great time visiting with my brother, sister-in-law, sister, brother's two boys and their wives, sister's two kids, and my extremely cute and funny great-nephew. My family is fun to hang out with. We all share the same warped sense of humor.
And I'll never, ever, EVER bet on anything again.
3月16日 WHOOOOOP!!!!![For those of you who are unfamiliar with Texas A&M, "Whooop" is the cheer used by Aggies instead of the standard "rah" or "yea".]
Bottle of Coke: $1.07
Bag of Chicken Wings: $6.99
Aggies beating Syracuse in Rd 1 of the NCAA Tourney: PRICELESS
I think it's SIGNIFICANT that the Aggies were chosen as 12th seed. I mean, we have that whole Twelfth Man thing happening, you know. Screw the Seahawks - the Aggies invented and patented the Twelfth Man. I digress...
Awesome, awesome, awesome. I've been happier than a hog on ice allllll day because the tournament is on!! My happy ass has been planted on the couch nearly all day watching the first round, while quilting a baby quilt for my nephew's bun which is still in the oven. My fingers are sore because I stabbed myself with a sewing needle everytime the crowd made excitement noises. That's the price I have to pay, though, for being a couch potato yet still trying to accomplish something other than helping my ass to spread. My friend told me she was relieved to hear that I was sewing or else she would worry that I'm becoming a dike because I watch sports so much. I assured her that I do NOT watch women's sports! THAT would be a better dike indicator. HA!
Next round the Aggies will take on LSU. I'm hoping the longhorns of texas university get knocked out in the first round. But then I always hope the longhorns get knocked out of everything. I can't get cocky about the Aggies in this tourney. They were a bubble team and are lucky to have made it in - every win is a bonus. I met Coach Gillespie when he was an assistant at Baylor University "back in the day." He's a nice guy. A hard-ass in practice, but a nice guy. He's very disciplined.
Shelby Metcalf, long-time Aggie basketball coach, once nominated the game clock operator at Texas Tech University for the All-Conference team because he swore the guy cheated everytime they played.
Coach Metcalf, after being told that one of his best players had several Fs and one D on his grade report, told the player that he was obviously spending too much time on one class.
Aggie Fight Song:
Hullabaloo kanek kanek
Hullabaloo kanek kanek
Goodbye to texas uni-versity
So long to the orange and the whi-i-ite.
Good luck to the dear old Texas A-a-ggies
They are the boys who show that real old fight.
The Eyes of Texas are Upon You
That is the song they sing so well (SOUNDS LIKE HELL)
So, goodbye to texas uni-versity
We're gonna beat you all to chiggarump chiggarump
Rough Stuff, Real Tough, TEXAS A&M!!!
I guess I'll bask in our victory for a little bit longer and by tomorrow morning I'll start worrying about the next round.
GIG 'EM!!
3月15日 CowboysCowboy fans all over Texas are waiting with baited breath to see if Jerry Fricking Jones signs Terrell Owens. They released Keyshawn Johnson, which I personnally was not sorry to see, so a new WR is definitely needed. I don't know if y'all remember, but a few years ago when Michael Irvin was having problems and Nate Newton got caught with a bunch of weed and there were anger management issues within the team, Jerry Fricking Jones hired Calvin Hill to come in and bring a little class back to the Cowboys. I guess Jones was hoping a litle piece of "America's Team" would take root in the bad seeds that he had signed. I hate to tell him but the only way to restore class to the Cowboys is for Jones to get the hell outta there! Things had kinda cooled down. Irvin got probation and retired, Nate did the same. They limped along with some WRs that didn't pan out, then they signed Keyshawn. He turned out to be quite a bust and never fulfilled his overly-hyped potential. All he did was bitch about everything. Now they're looking at Terrell Owens. YECH!! Ever since that sumbitch stood on the Cowboy star at Texas Stadium he has curdled my damn milk. TO has no heart. All he has is an ego and a bank account. He is the poster boy for most of the bad things that pop up in pro sports. He has talent, I can't deny that, but guys like him are ruining professional sports. I can't stand hot dogs and he's one with mustard & relish. Ugh.
Remember the olden days? Remember when guys were incredulous that they could get paid at all for playing professional sports? They played because they loved the game, loved the competition, loved the sportsmanship. And, okay, yeah, some of them were too stupid to do anything else. Those guys probably would have played for free. Then, with the onset of televised games, greedy owners, and greedier agents, it all went to hell in a handbasket. Somehow the athletes became convinced that they ought to have the lion's share of the profit. Which came first, the inflated ego or the inflated salary? There's definitely a correlation between the two.
I just can't help myself where the Cowboys are concerned. I've been watching the Cowboys for nearly fifty years. (Ouch. I wish I woulda thought about that before I actually wrote it down. Yech. FIFTY years? Shit.) I'm gonna watch them this year with or without T.O.. I'll bitch about Jerry Fricking Jones. I'll bitch about old Parcells. I'll bitch about those bitches [cheerleaders] on the sideline. But I'll be watching. There's absolutely nothing worse than a weekend without Cowboy football in the fall/winter. I don't know, there must be a football gene that we're born with in Texas; and most of us are born with the Cowboy football gene. (There are a few Redskin or other fans down here. They say they're born that way but I think it's learned behavior. I think, with prayer, they could get over it.)
I know what you're all thinking. "Yeah, you don't want TO but if he comes there and the Cowboys start winning consistently you'll love him." No I won't. I'll like winning but I'll never like TO.
Okay, the wait is on..... 3月14日 Ang's Day OutMy good friend whose name is Gay but she's not made me get outta the house today and make a road trip. I've been very pouty since the whole leaky roof incident. We went to the humane society in another town because they were selling doggie beds as a fund raiser. I bought Timber a coupla realllllly nice beds for $10 apiece. Then we went to some junk stores (er, antique stores) and then to a place where a guy makes cool things out of scrap iron and stuff.
At the junk, er, antique place I saw a young couple purchasing a set of vodka glasses. You know the kind - they don't have bottoms and you put them in this vase thing. Anyway, I saw some at "Big Lots" at Christmas for about $5 but they were considerably more at the antique store. Well, the couple was in their early twenties and they looked kinda like you would expect Jack Spratt and his wife to look. The girl was chunky but not fat and the guy was, like, meth-addict skinny. The girl reallllly wanted those glasses (there's no accounting for taste). I saw the young man take her hands in his, stare deeply and meaningfully into her yearning eyes, and overheard him say, "I want you to have them if they mean that much to you. We can get these today and then the rent and the truck payment can come out of my NEXT check." Such a poignant moment. If I weren't such a sourpuss I would have been touched. I thought it was sweet that they cared so much for each other, yet had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach like I do when I see people who obviously don't have a pot to piss in buying lottery tickets, liquor, or cigarettes.
The scrap iron place was a lot more fun. The guy is a true artisan. I wonder what it is about Texans that make us so proud of our state, the shape of the state, the state flag, lone stars, the state seal, etc. I can't feature people in, say, Vermont, with a big metal "Vermont" on the front of their house, or on their gate. Vermont is a very nice state, I'm sure, but who knows what the Vermont flag looks like except Vermontians? We have Texases all over everywhere down here. And yes, I cry EVERYTIME I visit the Alamo. For a long time I didn't own a United States flag. I flew the Texas flag on the 4th of July. I figure, heck, I'm still patriotic with red/white/blue, right? I've since gotten a new U.S. flag - I'm proud of that one, too. My niece's husband who is currently in Afghanistan brought me a U.S. flag that he flew over that country the first time he was deployed there. Actually he kinda unfurled it out the window of his helicopter but it's still a wartime flag and I am very, very proud of it, and proud to have been thought of by my nephew.
As a side note, I recently visited my favorite bbq place called "Sam's House of Smoke." There was a sign on the door that said "No Smoking." HUH???
Another side note: We saw a skinny cowboy mullet today. This guy was so skinny he coulda stood sideways, stuck out his tongue, and looked like a zipper. Anyway, his Wranglers were so tight there were worn, faded places where his Copenhagen stays in his back pocket, and where his nuts ride in the front. Yech. He had on a white t-shirt, a big ol' cowboy hat, and some work boots. His mullet hair was hanging out from under the back of his hat. I wished for a camera so I could send a pic to JT. This skinny little guy climbed into one of the biggest dually pickup trucks I've ever seen. That HAD to be phallic. 3月13日 Best laid plans....I worked me arse off at two high school basketball tournaments so I would make some overtime money that I could totally blow during my Spring Break holiday this week. I made plans to visit my nieces and nephews in Dallas with my sister-in-law to go shopping, eat at cool eateries, and, well, have some fun. I should know by now to NOT make plans. Everytime I do they get messed up.
I awoke this morning around 4:30 to the sound of a thunderstorm. Mmmm. I rolled over, snuggled up next to the dog, and closed my eyes to go back to sleep. That's when I heard it. drip.....drip.....drip.... I thought, "Great. The a/c is leaking again." Then, "Shit. The a/c hasn't even been turned on yet this year." I decided it must be something blowing instead of dripping, so I listened again. drip...drip.... Then, d-drip...d-drip....d-drip. I now had two leaks. There goes my fun money. At 6:30 I called my sister-in-law and told her I wouldn't be able to go to Dallas as I had to tend to the leaky roof.
My first day of Spring Break was taken up with roofers and insurance adjusters. NOT fun. I decided to go with a roof patch as that is what my friend, a handyman, advised. It's supposed to rain at the end of this week so we'll see if his advice was good or not.
I hate shit like this. If evolution is the way humans got here, I don't think I evolved from the chimp. I'm pretty sure I evolved from the ostrich. I would prefer to bury my head in the sand and ignore this type of problem rather than deal with it. Ugh. My favorite thing for repairmen to do is ask me if I want to wait for my husband before we discuss the roof, a/c, whatever. I let an exterminator sit in my living room for about thirty minutes one day because he kept insisting that my husband would want to hear what he had to say about a quote for a pest control contract before I finally told him I'm not married and he would have a longer wait for a husband to appear. Needless to say I didn't accept his bid, nor did he have a sense of humor about sitting there while I made my point. Another exterminator, about 30 years my senior at the time, insinuated that we could "work a deal." I didn't accept EITHER of his proposals! Yech. Now that I'm older I don't get those offers anymore. It's a damn shame, too, because I'm a lot more likely to consider it now!
For now the roof leak is supposedly fixed. I still can't spend the money, tho, in case it isn't fixed after all and I have to pay an insurance deductible. Crap, crap, crap. SO, happy spring break everybody. I'll be here at the house chillin'. 3月8日 Three Blog NightWell, I'll be dipped in dog shit. I just read on Mad Suburban Dad's space what happened to 3BN. What a crock! But I am heeding the warning and going back to delete the thing about a co-worker that I put on my space just in case. 3BN's space was the first I ever read and the one which inspired me to start my own space. So much humor and wit, and such a caring and loving family man. I think he got a bum rap. I am happy to read that the space was shut down to everyone, though, because being the paranoid heifer that I am was afraid that I was the only one who couldn't see the site anymore. (Sad, isn't it?) I'll be looking and hoping to maybe recognize a glimmer of 3BN in another form....maybe Snoop Bloggy Blog? A Blog is a Man's Best Friend?
I have to say that I wish my space had remained anonymous. I have a couple of people from work and my relatives with whom I shared the address. By sharing I censored myself. On the other hand, my niece really enjoys reading the space and it's a way for us to stay connected while miles and miles apart. But the work people are another story, especially with my high paranoia level.
So, Goodnight, Jim, wherever you are!! I'll miss you as Three Blog Night. National "Get Over It" day - March 9, 2006I stayed home today so got to see Good Morning America in its entirety. They did a feature on a new "day" that has been created by a guy from Atlanta named Jeff Goldblatt. It's called "Get Over It" day. On this day you think about all the stuff you've done that embarrassed the tar out of ya and then, well, GET OVER IT. Oooookay. And I'm sure it's just that easy...
Here are my MOST embarrassing things that will not bother me at all past tomorrow midnight:
(1) When I was eight years old my sister busted my friend and I looking at the Frederick's of Hollywood catalog. That one wasn't such a deal once I figured out that, hey, why was Mother getting that nasty book in the mail anyway? I mean, shoot, it wasn't addressed to ME!
(2) When I was late twenties my sister and I went to the Dairy Queen in Rusk, Texas, (the halfway mark) to meet my brother to pick up my nieces for a visit. I was wearing a very hip and modern gauze dress, very full, that had strings hanging from it with wooden beads tied to the ends of the strings. (This was, what, late seventies/early eighties?) Anyway, I went to pee and when I came back I couldn't understand why people were looking at me. I thought it was because I looked really cute. NOT. The girl that worked the counter came and whispered in my ear that my dress was caught in my pantyhose. Shit. I made my family stay there until everyone was gone before I would stand up again. I can't feature getting over this until my sister and nieces forget about it as it still comes up in family conversations about mortifying moments. You know how families are....remember the weak spots so you can continue to hit there when necessary...
(3) Lying abed with a lusty someone who shall remain nameless, I was overcome by a coughing spell. The force of the cough squeezed out a tiny "poot." I played like it didn't happen. I know, tho, that he heard it. Unless he reads this blog, I will continue to pretend this never happened.
(4) My sophomore class highschool friends had a farewell party for me when I moved to a new town. I wore white pants and a cute red/white top. We played spin-the-bottle and I managed to "suck face" with most of the guys there. (We all knew we'd never see each other again.) When I got home I realized that Aunt Sally had come a-calling with her little red suitcase. (Southern slang for "got my period.") I have no idea if anyone else noticed - but I'm playing like nobody did.
(5) One day at work my slip fell off just as the class bell rang. I kicked it under my desk until such time that students were no longer roaming the hall and looking into my office, then I threw it in my bottom drawer. My boss came out of his office just as I kicked the slip under my desk.
(6) Same boss (I worked for him nearly 18 years) was headed to an important meeting with his boss. He had a booger on the end of his nose. I told him. He removed it from his nose and then flicked it at me, not meaning for it to actually flick. We both grossed out as he had to fish it out of my hair. Yech.
(7) Sang "Colour My World" at a friend's wedding. I begged to not have to sing it with organ accompaniment but she wanted it that way. I sang part of it completely off-key, then got tickled because the organ player that nobody but me could see was making gagging faces as he tried to help me find the right key again. Ugh.
Those are my worst things. I'm learning that the older I get the more stupid things I do. It works out well, tho, because the older I get the less I care what anyone else thinks. THAT, my friends, is the absolute best thing about aging. That and retirement (12/31/07). Also, my mind tends to filter out more than it did when I was young. I used to remember lots more stuff that now goes in one ear and out the other, or otherwise doesn't sink in. I don't think it's senility (yet) but more of a "don'tgiveashit" attitude.
Well, I hope all of you "get over it" tomorrow. It's a good concept in this world where we all care so damn much what other people think. I encourage everyone to keep their spirits free! 3月3日 Another thing that gripes my butt...Have you ever had someone call to ask for a phone number and then when you start telling them they say, "Oh, wait. I gotta get a pen"? GRRRRRRR. This has happened twice today and it absolutely makes my butt pucker. One of these days, in a hormonal/menopausal fury, someone is gonna call me and say that and they're gonna get hit with a "You stupid s.o.b., why would you call to ask me for info and not have a pen and paper ready?" WOW, wouldn't it be great to be able to say exactly what's on your mind and not get fired or shot for saying it? As it is now, knowing I can't say what I'm thinking, I usually "accidentally" hang up on these people. I at least have the satisfaction of making them have to call back to get their info.
I shouldn't have this attitude. I realize I'm not being a sweet person even to think these thoughts, especially when I know some of the repurcussions of such thoughts. For instance, we went to dinner last evening and sat for ten minutes in an uncrowded restaurant waiting for service. Finally, we saw a guy walk by and asked if he could get someone to wait on us. Well, turns out he was the manager and he went crazy on a couple of waitresses. We were SURE our drinks would get spat (spitted?) in or have boogers in our beans - something horrible. Luckily a late-arriving person in our party knew the waitress so we relaxed a little.
Okay, I'm finished venting....for now. Think about me tonight as we are hosting another high school tournament (boys this week). The gym will be full of zealous small town fans cheering on their really short sons who aspire to be the next Jordan. Ugh!
3月1日 Forgive me, Father, did I sin?I'm not Catholic. Nor Methodist nor Episcopalean (Catholic-lite). My church recognizes Ash Wednesday but we don't actually get the smudge on the forehead. So I was only trying to be helpful today when I wiped away what I thought was dirt on a kid's forehead. Sheesh. Excuuuuuuuse Meeeeeeee!!! So did I sin? Have I commited myself or perhaps the kid whose forehead I dusted to eternal damnation? Does my attitude of only trying to be kind and helpful trump the fact that I wiped away the ash on Ash Wednesday?
I must admit, I find this fairly embarrassing. If it weren't for Mardis Gras and Fat Tuesday, I probably wouldn't even remember Ash Wednesday. (Okay, now, THAT might condemn me to eternal damnation.)
It's kinda like Maundy Thursday...what the hell, er, heck is THAT all about? I never heard of it until I moved to this part of the country, and we celebrated Easter for yearrrrrs without it. My Sunday School education must have been lacking. Well, fine...obviously lacking. But don't even wonder about Palm Sunday - I am so down with Palm Sunday. I know about Palm Sunday. And, well, OF COURSE I know about Easter! I am a Christian, after all, albeit maybe not a knowledgable one...
So, while we're on the subject of Easter - I'm not real sure how my siblings and I survived ours. We now hear so many warnings about refrigerating the eggs, don't eat the boiled eggs after they've been outside, blah blah blah. Shoot. Not only did we eat the eggs after they had been hidden, but those same eggs were on the cabinet all night so the Easter Bunny could find them in the morning. Some of them would be cracked and would still get hidden outside - those were the ones Mother would cook for breakfast. (Mmmm...creamed eggs over biscuits.) Then she would get some of the others for deviled eggs for lunch. I don't recall any of us ever having food poisoning at Easter. Maybe my family was blessed with cast-iron guts.
Well, y'all pray for me. I'm obviously a heathen with a good heart. However, I did murmer an expletive yesterday when Wal-Mart had their Easter stuff out and we're still two months away from the event. I guess as soon as the Peeps and Cadbury eggs are gone, we'll have Halloween candy.
Sheesh! |
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