I don't know about y'all but I'm ready to shove somebody's cell phone straight up their ass. Good GRIEF people are rude with those things. I can't convince my friend that just because it rings it doesn't mean you have to answer it - that's why there's voice mail. Sheesh. She'll answer it anywhere and then talks loud. Or she'll answer it and whisper that she can't talk but she'll call me later. Uh! Why not just let me leave a message if she can't talk? I just don't get it. I tend to go the other direction. Several years ago I decided to save money by just having a cell phone and no house phone. (Ha! I was so naive!) If I'm in one room and the phone is in the other I don't break my neck trying to get to it. I figure I'll check the messages later. Sometimes I forget for a few hours but, hey, I'll get to it. I'm also bad about not answering if I don't recognize the number - especially during my "anytime" minutes. I'm not gonna waste my minutes on somebody I don't know, or don't care enough about to program their number into my phone. Another friend invited me to lunch and then answered about three calls. I asked why he invited me to lunch and he said he hadn't seen me much lately and just wanted to spend some time with me. Being the hateful bitch I am, I pointed out to him that I could have had more conversation with him if he had taken someone else to lunch and I called him on his cell phone. Well, I believe the term I used was "f*cking cellphone." I've gotten t'where I just hate the damn things yet I'm dependent on mine. It gives me a feeling of security when I'm on the road, even if I'm just running errands in town. And everybody needs a phone of some sort at home in case of emergency. (I sound like a fatalist, don't I? I inherited it from my parents. From the first "take a sweater in case you get cold" I've always had some sort of contingency/emergency plan. Ha!)

 

My nephew's graduation last week was filled with the rudest folks I've ever seen. They walked around and talked out loud even when the speakers were at the podium. They acted like a bunch of junior high girls at a basketball game. Worse, really, because they were adults. The graduates couldn't even finish their recessional because people made a mad dash for the exit, blocking the graduates and bottle-necking at the door. I started getting claustrophobic. (Deja vu. I may have already blogged that. If I have - sorry.)

 

I seldom go to a theater to watch a movie anymore. I get so pissed it feels like the top of my head is gonna blow off and I end up not enjoying the feature. If I go I try to do so in the afternoon on a school day so there aren't very many people there, and definitely no kids. I can't blame the kids for not behaving properly in a movie because their parents are definitely not setting an example for them. Don't even get me started on the cell phones in the theater.

 

Next rude thing? People that let their dog crap in other people's yards and don't pick it up. There's a garage apartment next to my house. They don't have a yard, I do. I came unglued the other day when the girl turned her dog loose in my front yard and let him crap. I told her I don't even let my own dog crap in the front yard! I ended up calling her landlord and complaining. She wasn't even supposed to have a dog in her apartment. Not only was she rude, she was irresponsible and ended up having to get rid of her dog.

 

Next? Mumblers who leave messages on voicemail that are totally impossible to understand. Football players are BAD about this. A kid called the other day and I could barely understand his low mumble with it directly in my ear. He said he had left several messages and nobody called him back. Which to me sounded like, "mmmmsvrl mmblblblblmsgs n nbd uhhhhh cawlll mbak." So I told him, "Well, hon, if I can't understand your message I can't call you back. You might want to try speaking clearly." I do believe I was dismissed so I transfered him to a random number (not football - teehee) and let him become someone else's problem. Plus I know he would be pissed at being transfered to the bookstore instead of the football department. Ha!! I have a mean streak a mile wide.

 

Next? People who are impatient with old people. (Although there are days when I think there should be laws prohibiting really old people from driving or shopping between the hours of 7:00-9:00 am, 11:00 am-1:00 pm, and 4:00-7:00 pm. We're all trying to hurry around and they're just taking their sweet time.) I guess I know my day is coming and I've already recognized that I'm not as "with it" as I used to be. All of a sudden it takes me longer to get in and out of the car. Used to I would grab my purse and jump out anxious to get on with whatever I was doing. Now I turn the car off, make SURE I put my keys in my purse, make sure my purse is closed so stuff won't fall out, open the door, fiddle with the seat belt, get out, check my clothes to make sure nothing is stuck in my crack or bra strap hanging out, double-check to be sure I'm not locking my keys in the car, close the door, make sure it locked...then I'm on my way. Getting back in the car and getting ready to drive off is even crazier. I'm so intent on not doing something that makes me look old that I end up acting old. And don't EVEN honk at me to try to speed me up. Oh, HELL NO. I'll sit there half a day just to piss ya off. Ha!! God, I feel sorry for whoever has to take care of me in the nursing home...

 

There are lots and lots of kind and considerate people in this world. I worry, though, that more and more of us have forgotten The Golden Rule. Did y'all learn that one in elementary or Sunday school? I'll paraphrase because I've seen it written several different ways..."Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Still a classic! I also like, "Yea, though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For I am the meanest sonofabitch in the valley."

 

For now I think the kindest and most considerate thing for me to do for you is to end this blog and stop rambling...

 

P.S.  (One more ramble!) In this time of high gasoline prices and forecasts of possible shortages I saw the damndest thing. It's a truck with rolling advertisements on each side. So this guy drives around for hours and hours everyday just so people will see these "mobile ads.) Is that not the stupidest thing ever?

 

 

Last Friday, on my way to Austin, it rained so hard around Temple on I-35 that I was forced to slow to about 40 mph. I could barely see yet was afraid to pull over to the side of such a busy interstate. WELL, I found out later that there were at least four tornadoes in that area. I'm glad I didn't know that at the time as I would have been scared shitless. I was rockin' along listening to Lucinda Williams instead of trying to get weather reports on the radio. On reflection, perhaps I should have put a little more thought into that. It was rainin' so hard I wouldn'ta seen a funnel cloud if it twisted right in front of me. YIKES!

 

An 11-year old boy in Alabama killed a huge wild hog with a pistol. I saw a picture of this on Mitch's space the other day but the story has now hit my local tv stations. It seems weird that there's still enough land in this crowded country of ours that could support a pig that big for the number of years it took him to get that big, and not be noticed. So this paragraph gets two YIKESes. One YIKES! for the pig bein' so huge, and the second YIKES! that an eleven year old boy killed the damn thang with a pistol. Okay, THREE YIKESes.... from what I understand it would be difficult to kill a pig with a pistol, but what's an eleven year old doin' with a damn pistol anyway??? Even in Alabama! YIKES! YIKES! YIKES!

 

It has rained here more in the past month than it had in the two years previous. It rained several times during our baseball tournament. One day while sitting in the metal bleachers watching the rain clouds blow in, I said to a friend next to me, "Look at those clouds swirling. They're just gonna spin around this ballpark until they spin right into a twister and suck all the bases up off the field." Then I laughed because, well, that jus' ain't gonna happen like that. Unfortunately the lady from New Jersey sitting behind us didn't know it wouldn't happen that way. I scared her. I guess she's heard about this being the tail end of "Tornado Alley." She asked in a high-pitched voice, "Are those really tornado clouds, and are we in a warning?" I felt kinda bad because I was just kiddin'. "Oh, no, ma'am! They're just rain clouds." She nervously replied, "Rain clouds do not look like that in New Joisey." I didn't mean to scare her. YIKES!

 

For those of you around, oh, 50ish, do ya remember when the really daring, wild kids would put aspirin in their Cokes because it was rumored to get ya high or somethin'? How simple life used to be. Then there was a new recipe developed using over the counter cold pills and other handy-dandy ingredients for methamphetamines or meth. I didn't think it could get much worse than that, but I was wrong. Now there's something new called "cheese." A new recipe consisting of black-tar heroin and Tylenol PM. It's becoming prevalent in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Who thinks this shit up? YIKES!!

 

I was drag-assin' today because I had a 3-day weekend and found it hard to get outta bed this mornin'. Not depressed or mad or anything, just movin' slow, yawnin', stuff like that. Yeah, I felt like I had it soooo bad because I didn't get another hour of sleep. Then I watched the news and saw a story about a 24-year old single mom who hanged herself and three of her four children because, police guess after interviewing friends and family, she was having a hard time providing for herself and the children. I am a spoiled, selfish, ol' heifer. YIKES!

 

I'm goin' t'bed now so I can be up and at 'em in the morning...

 

My thoughts and prayers are with families who have someone serving in the military or who have lost someone as a result of their service to this country. I'm thinking of my niece's husband who is a Major in the United States Air Force. Pete is a helicopter pilot and has been to Afghanistan and Iraq several times. Mostly, though, I'm thinking of my Daddy. He served in the Army/Air Corps in WWII but, most importantly, today is his birthday. He would have been 85 today. Daddy used to tell funny stories about his time in the military. He never told stories of battle so I don't know if he ever actually fired shots at anyone or not. He was stationed in Northern Africa and Italy. All I know that he did was load bombs onto airplanes and played poker. He did mention that I may have some siblings in those countries. Ha!! He told me he drove a jeep for General Patton for one day because Patton had fired his regular driver and Daddy just happened to be available. Daddy said he might have ended up an officer himself except he kept getting busted back down to private for misbehaving. From what I gathered he was a party-animal.

 

I don't like war. But I sure do like freedom. We'll never have a war like WWII again. Back then we knew who the enemy was and where they were. We bombed them and if civilians accidentally were killed in the crossfire it was a sad thing but the enemy had to be eradicated. The end justified the means. Of course, there weren't reporters imbedded with the troops or tv cameras all over everywhere. All that was reported was what the US government wanted people to know - and that resulted in unabashed patriotism and pride in our military and the job they were doing.

 

I don't know about the rest of you but I don't have a clue what the truth is about the war in Iraq. I can't believe the President and I can't believe the reporters. It chaps my ass when soldiers who are sent to war are put on trial for killing. You would think the war would already be over because it has certainly been talked to death. The battle with insurgents takes a back seat to the battles between the President/politicians and media. It's not about us winning the war now, it's about parties in this country being right. Until our military can go into Baghdad and bomb the bejeebers out of it with no regard for civilian life, we will not be able to win this war. And if we CAN'T do that, we might as well come home. That's harsh, I know, but it's war. War is not EVER gonna be pleasant.

 

Americans were spoiled and then 9/11 happened and freaked us all out. Now, as time goes on, everyone but those directly involved with the events of that day are losing the fear we experienced when we watched those planes fly into our buildings. Most of us were gung-ho for the military to go to the middle East to fight terrorism. Now the news of our young men and women being killed everyday is making us lose our resolve to fight and protect our country. Especially when we learned we went to war based on false information and there wasn't really evidence of wmd's. But whether there were or not, there were definitely people training to kill more Americans on American soil. Perhaps we needed to put more effort into finding Bin Laden instead of Saddam Hussein.

 

When I think about Iraq I feel like I'm on a see-saw. I'm a hawk....I'm a dove....I'm a hawk....I'm a dove.... It just depends on what I hear that day. I'm so proud of my nephew for serving in the military, and terrified that something will happen to the father of my sweet great-nephews. I feel certain that every family who has someone serving in the military feels the same way. No matter what my feelings are about the war on any given day, I am patriotic EVERY day. I may not respect the man's decisions, but I respect the office of the president EVERY day. I am proud to be an American EVERY day.

 

God bless America, God bless our soldiers and those of our allies...

After being rained out on Thursday evening, my team came back on Friday to win the big baseball tournament. (Well, it was big to US!) I missed it as I went to my nephew's high school graduation in Austin. And I thought my presence would be a contributing factor to any victory of one of my teams - obviously I was wrong about that! My friend was texting me throughout the graduation ceremony with scores. When I got the text that we won I let out an exuberant, though whispered, "YES!" I would imagine that the strangers sitting around me thought I was WAY into the valedictorian's speech.

 

Speaking of graduation... I am sooo proud of my nephew. Indulge me while I do a little bragging. Alex (and his sister)came to live with my sister when he was eight years old as foster kids. His dad gave them up because he couldn't care for them and still work to support them. Their mother is mentally ill and unable to care for herself, much less little kids. At eight years old, Alex had randomly attended school. He was way behind according to his age group. Within a couple of years, with the tutoring my sister arranged and my sister's strict discipline, Alex not only caught up with his age/grade, he exceeded it. He graduated in the top ten percentile of his class. When Alex first got to my sister's he would hide/hoard food in his room because he was afraid he would get hungry. To that point, food had not always been available to the kids. Right before Child Protective Custody had taken the kids from their mother she had hitchhiked with them from Austin to Houston with little or no food over a 3-5 day period. This happened during a hot, hot Texas summer. As I watched this handsome young man walk across the stage and get his diploma I couldn't help but think what a difference my sister has made in his life. My heart nearly burst with pride, so much so that it leaked out my eyes and ran down my cheeks. He will be attending Texas Tech University in the fall. (How the hell did THAT happen with me touting the virtues of my Texas A&M University???)

 

I drove through some God-awful rain on my way to Austin yesterday. There were some real gully-washing storms, otherwise known as turd-floaters, yesterday and are still raining down on central Texas. I drove through this little town named Hubbard and saw the most beautiful house! It must be some kind of bed&breakfast or something because it's always dressed up. Yesterday it was covered with red/white/blue bunting (for Memorial Day). In the yard were some of those old metal lawn chairs but they were painted like Texas state flags. They had red geraniums in all the flower beds and it was absolutely beautiful. The house is an old country farmhouse with touches of Victorian. Sounds like an odd combo but it's fantastic. There are at least a dozen houses like that in this little bitty town. I always wonder what "used to" be there because there ain't shit there now except these fabulous old houses. It must have been a wealthy town at one time...

 

This is Memorial Day weekend. Memorial Day is a time to remember and thank the men and women who have fought for our country. I wonder how many people realize it began as a Confederate tradition? It was originally called "Decoration Day" and began in 1868 (after the Civil War) when women would put flowers and flags on the graves of fallen Confederate soldiers. I don't know when they changed its name to Memorial Day and made it for all soldiers... Hear me whistlin' Dixie?

 

I got home from Austin last night around midnight. Then Timber had a bad night. He couldn't get comfortable and was panting quite a bit. I put Frontline on him last week so I wasn't thinking "fleas" but I gave him some benadryl anyway to help him relax. (I hope I don't create a doggie-addict!) This morning around 7:00 he jumped, squeaked, and began scratching.  FLEAS! I got up and gave him a bath with medicated shampoo. There were some monster fleas on my poor baby, despite the Frontline. (I'm guessing the rain must have washed his Frontline off since the crazy dog won't go into the storage building but stands by the backdoor waiting for me to let him in - even when I'm not here.) The vet said I could put another dose of Frontline on him so I'm fixin' t'do that. Now I'm washing dog beds and spraying for fleas. This is what happens as a result of mild winters - the fleas (and other insects) don't get killed off with a prolonged freeze so they just get bigger and heartier. If fleas are big enough to see in dog bathwater, then you know they're big-ass fleas. Needless to say my Timby is napping...

 

It's good to be home! I was definitely getting baseballed-out...

 

Have a lovely Memorial Day. Even if you disagree with war, please remember those who sacrificed their lives for the freedoms and privileges we enjoy everyday. Also, remember the families who are either temporarily or permanently living without their loved ones.

 

 

 

I've been very Walter Mitty lately. You know, escaping reality by fantasizing a different world - a world where I'm the prettiest, wittiest, most desirable of all other maidens in the kingdom. Quite unlike my reality, unfortunately. Oh, I'm fun...but my wit tends to favor bawdy bar-humor instead of ladylike parlor witticisms. The lilting laugh I fantasize about is, in reality, a laugh that comes from the gut and makes my eyes squint. And I laugh a lot which made me give up on wearing mascara years ago so I wouldn't constantly have raccoon eyes. My giggle is not cute but makes one wonder what kind of mischief I'm plotting. A friend once told me that he could tell I was planning to say something crazy by the depth of the dimple in my left cheek. I want to be one way, but tend to be another. I thought I could be someone different on a blog but the real me usually peaks between the lines anyway. I want to know the people whose blogs I read, yet am terrified at the thought that they would know me. Probably because I feel I would be lacking in some way. And as I read what I just wrote I think, "God, what a nut-job."

 

I'll tell ya what got me t'thinking about all this... I read this guy's space and what he writes is soooo frickin' beautiful. His visions and fantasies and observations of life are so cool. They're romantic and thoughtful, so much so they can turn a girl's thoughts to soothing his tortured soul. I'm not talking sex; well, not totally (tee-hee). I'm talking the kind of fantasy where your hearts and minds communicate on a level so much deeper than a roll in the hay. Soul-mate kind of stuff. Now THAT, my friends, is a powerful fantasy. A fantasy because I'm so cynical and distrustful of men that there's probably no way in hell I would ever fall for this sort of thing in reality. (Yeah, yeah, broken heart and all that when I was younger. My former relationships are country-western song cliches.) It's bittersweet to even fantasize about such things...{BIG sigh} It's similar to when I was sixteen and was thrilled everytime I took the survey in Tiger Beat magazine that indicated I was the PERFECT love-match for Bobby Sherman or David Cassidy. I knew I probably was, too, and was so relieved when the survey confirmed it. Ha!!

 

I also fantasize quite a bit about winning the lottery and having perky breasts.

 

P.S.  Please don't feel you need to post something about how wonderful you think I am because, well, you don't realllly know if I am or not. Plus, this wasn't a fishing expedition. (You know, fishing for compliments.) On the other hand, I hope I didn't scare y'all off by revealing what a schizophrenic I am. [insert Twilight Zone music] Ha!!

Busy, busy, busy! I've been up to my ass in alligators with nobody to drain the swamp this week. We're hosting a big baseball tournament so I've been at the ballpark from early in the morning til late at night. And it is FUN!! I've visited with people from New York, New Jersey, Massachusettes, Maryland, Minnesota, Illinois, and Missouri. Mostly we make fun of the way we each talk, but it's all in good fun. I've noticed, though, that people from the northeast look different from Texans. Not a lot, but some. It's like the difference between an American and a European. I guess the further South you go the more stuff has gotten mixed into the bloodlines. Also, more people from England, Ireland, and Italy settled up north, while we got Mexicans, Spaniards, and French in the South. It's very interesting to see the differences. In addition, even the palest of us have gotten a little sun while the "yankees" have not had that opportunity. We were laughing last weekend because the visitors from up north were sweating their asses off and talking about how hot it is. They didn't believe us when we told them it was cooler than normal because of a cold front. Ha!! But it was the truth. The weather was absolutely gorgeous here and it was about 8-10 degrees cooler than normal. I talked to some guys from Massachusettes who had gone to a store and purchased black straw cowboy hats. I told them they were confusing me because they had black hats on like the bad guys wear, but they had them pushed to the back of their heads like "good ol' boys." The guy says in his accent that he was an okay guy but the reason his hat was pushed back was because it was too little for his head. Ha!!  These guys thought it was HILARIOUS that we have a "No Handguns Allowed" sign posted on the stadium gate. There's a retired NYPD guy here that got a kick out of it, too. He asked if the sign was effective. I said that all I knew was that nobody had been shot this week but since we don't have metal detectors at the ballfield I couldn't guarantee some grandma didn't have her derringer in her knitting bag. Everybody seems to be having a really good time. I know those of us working at the park have enjoyed meeting so many cool people. The young guys on the teams have been so polite and friendly that the whole thing has been more fun than work. It helps that my team is in the tournament and is one of two remaining undefeated teams. We were supposed to play last night but got rained out. There's a line of thunderstorms all up and down East Texas today so I don't know if we'll get to play today or not. In the hospitality room the other day several of us gathered for lunch. Somebody was telling me what to do and how to do it until I got aggravated and threw out my all-time favorite saying of "I'm screwing this dog - you just stand there and hold the leash." Except, well, I might not have used the term "screwing." I may have been a tinge more graphic. My friend's eyes got big and then I heard some male voices laughing their butts off. With my back to the door I didn't realize there were some coaches from New Jersey standing behind me. Excuse the rambling nature of this post. I just wanted to throw something out there so y'all would know what I've been up to. The thoughts written here are slightly disjointed but, hey, that's kinda how I am in person, too! ha!!! Later, Y'all!!!

My son called to wish me a happy Mother's Day. He's so good. Since we became mother/son, about 20 years ago (when he was 19), he's only missed 2-3 Mother's Day calls. Once when he was in the Belgian playoffs, once when he took his family to EuroDisney, and maybe one other time. He has grown into such a kind and gentle man. He's such a good daddy and husband. I think his birth mother and I did a splendid job raising him!

 

I spent a large portion of this day thinking about my own mother, as I do every Mother's Day. I also had many thoughts about friends who have lost their mothers. As much as I miss Mother, I am blessed and thankful to have had her for 39 years. When I think of children who are spending this day without their moms my heart aches.

 

Okay, here's a crazy thing. After my Mother died I was told by consoling friends that I should take comfort in knowing that "she can see you and she's always with you." That was KINDA comforting at the time. One night, though, in a particularly "romantic" moment with a fella, all I could think of was that I hoped my Mother couldn't reallllly see me. Yech. (I probably shouldn't use liquor as foreplay as it makes me think of silly things.) I'm hoping it's only a "she can see me when I call on her" kinda thing. Like putting Batman's symbol up in the sky when there's danger looming. I'm pretty sure, knowing my Mother as I do, that if she looked down and saw me in the midst of voe-dee-oh-doe, she would pull some kind of poltergeist shit. I think, if she could do stuff like that, she woulda hooked me up with the lottery like she promised on her deathbed. I'm still holding out hope for that one...

 

I got a ton of things done today. Kitchen cabinets are rearranged and cleaned out, battery replace in the clock (I've put that off for nearly a year), pictures hung on the wall, clothes washed/folded/put away, and I took a GRAND nap during the Astros game. I only slept for about thirty minutes but it was awesome. I did it the official nap way by layin' across the bed sideways and only used a throw blanket. I might have slept a little longer but I rolled onto a giant beef bone that Timber had brought to bed with him. Ow.

 

The big baseball tournament starts this coming Thursday. The last time I wore short pants to a game I got a doozy of a sunburn on my shins. Just my shins. Now I have tanned shins. I want to go to the tanning salon and get some color on my legs before the weekend but I just can't bring myself to do it. It's not that I know it's bad for me blah blah blah. Oh, no. It's because the last time I went (a coupla years ago) I looked up and saw the a/c vent and I got the creepiest feeling that someone could put a little camera in there and nobody would ever know it. Now I'm totally paranoid about stripping in the tanning booth. My friend says to wear my skivvies but I liked the all-over tan, which is surprising for me since I don't even like to shower in a lighted bathroom. I may try the rub-on tan but it usually makes my feet look real dirty. I should probably find a new hobby or something. I've already spent a long paragraph too long worrying about tanning.

 

So let's talk about a pedicure... Ha! Now THAT is important!!

 

I hope all you muthahs out there had a great day. I did.

 

 

 

P.S.  For those of you who read my previous post and now think I'm a scary bad-ass - I'm not. I'm a cream puff. If I were a bad-ass I woulda had the kid kicked outta school...

Whew. They're gone for awhile. I mean, the kids. This past week was a time for checking in books, saying goodbyes, silent yee-haws when particularly bothersome students said goodbye.

 

The athletic department maintains a book inventory and we check out or loan books to kids on scholarship. It's the yechiest part of my job. If they don't return the borrowed books they have to pay for them. Stealing books and selling them to the college bookstore is a thriving business during finals week as heathens try to pick up some easy cash. Our books are clearly stamped "property of athletic department - not for resale." And yet we always have a few who try to sell them. One of the football players tried to sell his books to the bookstore. My friend there kept his books, wrote down his name, and called me. I sent word to the coach that I needed to see the guy and why. The coach is new so he came by to ask my boss why I would be talking to the guy instead of one of the men. There's soooooo much testosterone in my department with all the jocks. Ugh. Anyway, my boss just laughed and said, "because she's good at it." So Coach tried to coach me on what to say. I know the man cusses like a sailor on the field but he comes to the offices and tries to act like he's a preacher or somethin'. So he says to me after a five-minute instructional speech, "Now, don't take this wrong, but can I count on you to verbally molest him?" So I say in my most ladylike voice, "Coach, I don't know how you would handle this situation but I can tell you right now that it's my intention to rip this kid a new asshole." He turned to my boss and said, "I guess you're right - she can handle this." To which my boss replied, "She's done this before, Coach." So the kid, a 6' 7" 290 lb freshman, comes to my office and after getting a good look at him I can tell that if I yell at the kid he's not gonna hear me, so I went with another strategy to make him feel like shit. By the time I got through guilting this kid he and I were both near tears. I sent him out of the office so I could "think about what I wanted to do - file felony charges, kick him out of school, or give him another chance." I already knew he was getting another chance. He's a good, good young man who just made a crappy choice. When he left I've never seen anyone whose shoulders were so slumped and whose head was hangin' that low. I had my boss watch and told him to let him walk until just within earshot and then call him back. The young man came back and I told him he was getting another chance because he's always been so polite and friendly and I was counting on him learning a valuable lesson that would help him become a better man. Then I hugged him and told him to get his butt to the dorm and study for his finals. "Yes, ma'am; yes ma'am. I've learned a lesson and I won't ever do anything like this again." After he left, my boss and the asst athletic director came in and were laughing at how I handled the guy. They tease me about using my "mama voice" when I get onto the kids, but they know it gets to them in a different way than if they or the coach talks to them. It's kinda humorous to see a big ol' lineman or cocky quarterback wither under my questioning or talking. I think they would rather run bear crawls (running down a football field on fingers and toes).

 

While talking to my book seller (ha) I asked him what would lead him to such a poor choice to sell his books when he knew they had to be returned. He finally admitted that he was just so tired of not having money - not even enough to wash his clothes. His parents had had some financial trouble and couldn't send him anything. It's hard to imagine not even having enough pocket money to wash a load of clothes or buy something off the dollar menu at Mickey D's. I made him promise that if he gets in a bind next year to come see me and I would find some chores at my house so he could earn a little spending money. I told him I wouldn't just give him money but I would let him work for some. I understand not having money. My parents couldn't afford to send me much when I was going to school. I got more than this kid, but I lived with a girl who had unlimited resources so I always felt poor.

 

Sometimes we learn lessons in the classroom, sometimes we learn lessons where we least expect it. You think I'm talking about the football player? Naaaaa. I'm talking about myself. Over and over I've learned that there's always more to the story. If I based my decision solely on the fact that the kid messed up with his books the punishment would have been swift and harsh. By listening to him I gave him a chance to voice things that had really been bothering him and I knew that he most likely would make the most of getting a second chance. If he messes up again I won't be so understanding or generous. I may not know for years if I did the right thing but I'll know by next year if I made the wrong decision. The proof is always in the puddin'.

I'm keeping my friend's dog this weekend. The dog smelled so bad I had to bathe her last night. The smell is not her fur, though, it's her ears. She has a bad-ass ear infection happening. When I had bulldogs they were prone to this type of thing so I had some old medicine left. I cleaned her ears out real good, which she loved since they itch so badly, and put the eardrops in to try to stop the infection. The poor thing won't leave her ears alone so I gave her a benadryl. She is knocked out. She has shaken her head so hard trying to clear her itchy ears that she has broken the blood vessels in her ear and now it is swollen with fluid. I called my friend and told him about the dog. Yeah, well, they knew and the vet had given 'em some stuff to put in her ears but she didn't like it and they had been too busy and and and blah blah blah excuses excuses excuses. I'm pissed. Poor dog. I'm gonna badger him until he takes the dog to the vet on Monday. I'll be able to get 3-4 more doses of eardrops in her before I send her home so hopefully she'll be on the mend, but that ear needs to be lanced and drained before it gets infected. The dog mostly lives outside so maybe they hadn't noticed how really bad her ears are, but daaaaaang!

 

One of our coaches has a teenage son. He was in my office the other day when one of our cute, blonde female tennis players came in. Now, in my opinion Rachel barely glanced his way - he's obviously young-looking. However, after Rachel left, the kid turned to me and said, "Did you SEE her? She just had eye-sex with me." Me, "What the hell are you talking about....eye sex?" He felt that she looked at him with a considerable amount of interest. Now, THAT, people, is self-confidence! I hope I didn't bust his bubble when I cracked up laughing...

 

Home is luvverly again. A/C is on, fence is repaired so Timber can go outside, floors are clean...all that good stuff that I've put off all week due to no electricity. It was kinda nice bathing  and dining by candlelight. Well, except that all I had to eat was fruit, peanut butter, and crackers as I had to throw everything away from the refrigerator and had no way to cook anything. All in all, though, things weren't too bad. I think I even slept better with no distraction from tv or radio. Timber and I would go to bed at dark and I was awake and rearin' to go by 6:30 every morning. By Friday, though, temperatures were rising and the humidity was high. I got power just in the nick of time. I'm thankful I have a gas hot-water heater, thankful it was cooler last week, and thankful that Timber is such a trooper. He liked going to bed early because he got lots and lots of petting and scratching. One night we were layin' "face to face" when I leaned up and kissed his "cheek." Then I put my head back on my pillow. The crazy dog raised up and licked my cheek just like I had kissed him, then put his head back on his pillow. It was hilarious. I was laughing and his tail was goin' 9-to-nothin'. I thought, "This is so sweet but I need to get out more...I just "shared a moment" with a damn dog." Hahahahhaha.

 

I need to dig out the dream book and see what it means to dream about snakes. I've dreamed about snakes about three times in the past coupla weeks. Ugh. I hate snakes.

 

I watched the Kentucky Derby today. I was sad thinking about Barbaro. I always cry when they sing "My Old Kentucky Home." I love old traditions like that. Wouldn't it be fun to be the Queen and get to go wherever you want and always know you'll have the best seats in the house? Niiiiice. I guess that's where the old sayin' comes from. You know the one... "Who do you think you ARE - the f*cking Queen of England?" Yeahhhhh, I get that one a lot. Ha!!

 

Did anyone watch the Astros today? We kicked St. Louis' asses today 13-0. Sweetness!!

 

I thought I would sneak to the grocery store today to re-stock on milk, eggs, and other staples I had to toss due to lack of electricity. I wore the clothes I had been working in and, frankly, looked like death warmed over or the Wrath of God. Who is the first person I see? The president of the college where I work, of course. I shoulda known better. Who knew we shopped at the same dang store? I've never seen him there when I was dressed in nicer clothing. Screw it. It's Saturday.

 

I hope y'all are havin' a great weekend...

 

 

 

 

 

 

As of 9-something a.m. this morning I have electricity at my house!! Woo-hooooooo!!!!! My fence is being repaired as we speak so Timber will be able to go outside without a leash, my roof is being fixed so it won't leak the next time it rains, the electrician finished repairing the wires to my house, and the tree guy is coming this weekend to clear out the big-ass tree that's outside my door. The insurance adjuster has been there and I'll have a check by Monday. Life is good.

 

Nadine - sorry about the big text. I'm so blind I didn't realize it was Texas-sized! I hope this is better...

 

I look forward to a weekend of getting everything at home back in order. I gotta tell ya - after 4 days with no air circululation in the house and not being able to let Timber run free in the backyard, it's gettin' kinda doggy in there. Ha!! It's not like me to look forward to a vacuum cleaner and mop but that's on my agenda for tonight.

 

Starbucks is a treat for me. A limited one due to cost and calories. But this morning I thought I deserved a special treat for all the crud I've dealt with all week. So while in line at the drive-thru Starbucks I see a man at the laundromat in a wheelchair, no leg (probably due to a diabetic amputation), smoking, verrry large, and I'm reminded that I should definitely go with the "skinny" version of the mocha frap (skinny means low-fat/non-fat in Starbuck lingo). So I order the skinny mocha frap and ask for a fat-free scone. They're OUT of them so I opt for a reduced-fat version. Better than regular but still not as healthy as "none." The devil's work, I'm thinking to myself, that they're out of the nonfat pastries. And then, when the cashier tells me the cost of my treat, it's $6.66. FREAK ME OUT!!!! It really WAS the devil!!!!

 

Later....

Sometimes when things happen beyond our control the tendency is to curl up in a ball and say, "Why ME?" That's kinda where I am today. My house got hit by a big-ass limb on Tuesday evening and I've been without power ever since. (I'm blogging at work.) I know how Doc felt when the 25cent toilet part caused his whole house to flood! I've been dealing with TXU Electric (nightmare!), electricians, builder-guy who had to put the back of the house back together, and a tree service. OH, and the insurance company. As I've stated on numerous occasions, there ain't no such thang as customer service anymore!!! My local guys (electrician, builder, and tree guy) have been awesome. They were there in a heartbeat and have guided me through this mess. Now, if I could only get power... A storm on Tuesday night broke this big-ass limb but now that I have everything put together the electric company tells me they are in "Storm Mode" and can only fix outages caused by the storm we had last night. I've gone round and round with 'em. I have a new mantra that I keep reciting to myself so I won't get down. It's "shit happens...shit happens...shit happens..." I'm here to tell ya, though, that it's boring as hell at my house without lights. No tv, no computer, no electric curlers, no hairdryer, no air conditioning, no washer/dryer. I don't see how Abe Lincoln did it with all his studying by firelight blah blah blah. I guess I'm spoiled. But, I HAVE A TOILET. I can survive anything as long as my toilet flushes!! Timber says the same thing (Timber's fresh-water spring). The insurance adjuster is coming tomorrow - 4 days later... This has been a verrrry frustrating week.

 

As soon as I get power back I'll send out a celebratory blog. Until then, send good vibes my way, please!!

 

P.S.  I must say that I have experienced many blessings through my tribulations but, you know, I forget to mention those! I'm very thankful for the kindness of the electrician, builder, and tree guy. I'm very thankful that, even though it was the storms this week that knocked the limb down, it's those same storms that have kept the temperatures pleasant enough that it's not stiflingly hot in my house. And my house could have been damaged a lot worse than it was. And Timber or I could have been hurt. And I have insurance!

 

Shit happens....shit happens....shit happens.....shit happens......