Last night I attended the annual fish fry/party hosted by a sporting goods company here in town. I told my coaches that they better be careful as I was definitely on the prowl last night...not only had I shaved my legs but also my upper lip. Ha! As you can imagine, my college gives this place a LOT of business. Two kegs, extra coolers of beer in cans, two frozen margarita machines, crawfish etouffe, fried catfish, beans, and a crawfish boil (like a low-country boil of crawdaddies, potatoes, corn on the cob, and lotsa spice - not for the faint of heart or guts). As I was visiting with the coaches from my place, the host came up behind me and put his hands/arms around my neck and leaned against my back with his body. His hands managed to get dangerously close to my boobies but he never actually groped them. My eyes bugged out in surprise, which sent my friend and two of the young coaches into stifled giggles. But then he started leaning into me, then leaning back, then leaning into me. My friend said she could tell exactly what I was thinking by the looks on my face. First, "What's he DOING?" Then, "Good grief - I'm being humped!" Hahahhahaha!!! I didn't want to make a scene and at my age (and with my personality) it's difficult to actually offend me over something like that so I just let it all run its course. I knew he had been drinking beer all afternoon and just chalked it up to him being shit-faced. Also at my age, you take your flirtation how and when you can get it. Hahahhaha! So after he walks away my friend says, "He got kinda close to your boobs, didn't he?" Me, "Good thing they sag or he woulda had two handfuls!" Then I told them, "One time I was playing with my bulldogs on the floor, kinda rough-housing with them, when the male jumped on me as I was on all fours and started humping me. That's how I just felt with C**** nudging me in the back with his pecker!" We had a fun time drinking a few margs (slowly so I wouldn't get a brain freeze - ouch!), piggin' out, making jokes, and playing washers. And then they cranked up the karaoke. Gag. The girl that owns this elaborate karaoke set-up brings it so she can sing...and she's not very good...and she's not very good at adjusting the volume, etc...and it's killed the party two years in a row. So my crew left without even a buzz. I don't like going to drinking parties way out in the country like that because somewhere around age 35-40 I got real paranoid about driving after drinking. What's up with THAT? Sheesh. Up to that point there were several mornings when I woke up not remembering the drive home. What an IDIOT I was!!! Sometime during the festivities one of the young coaches asked where the bathroom was. I vaguely pointed and said "there." "Where?" "Dude, we're sittin' on 140 acres - pick a spot!" City boy...

 

Well, I drank my coffee and had a scone. I guess it's Saturday chore time. Bleah.

I hired me a winner this time. Bless his heart - Baseball Guy is hilarious. We use interoffice envelopes to send things from office to office at work. I had Baseball Guy deliver an envelope of stuff to the admin building yesterday. Today he asked if he needed to go back and pick up that envelope. Me, "What envelope?" Baseball Guy, "The envelope I took to the admin building yesterday." Me, "Noooo. Why would you think you needed to go pick it up?" Baseball Guy, "Because it said on the back of it 'Please reuse'." Me, "Well, no. We're all in on that so it'll get reused and eventually probably make its way back here through campus mail." And then I giggled uncontrollably for several minutes, maybe even threw in a guffaw or two. Baseball Guy, "Oh."

 

Our men's golf team won a national championship. The coach was on a winner's high when he was contacted by a local television station asking for an interview. The guy's camera battery went down so he had to run back to the station to get another. The coach and his wife tell him they'll wait at this pizza restaurant for him to come back to finish the interview. The coach is wearing his logo shirt, and like I said, was having a testosterone infused ego trip over winning and being interviewed blah blah blah. Coach's wife tells the kid at the counter that they're going to wait for the tv reporter who is interviewing her husband because his golf team won, etc.. The kid says, "Really? I go to school there and I didn't even know they HAD a golf team." psssfft - the sound of an ego being punctured. Ha!!

 

When the weather is pretty one of our younger campus safety guys rides a bicycle. He comes to the gym when he wants to cool off or just check on stuff. Everytime he comes in on the bike in his little helmet and shorts I call him "Baywatch." I suggested to him today that he invite Glenn, the retarded guy that hangs around all the time (and who rides a bike), to ride with him sometimes. Jimmie says, "We could be the NEW Miami Vice." I laughed til I peed (almost).

 

White Boy got an additional summer job yesterday. He is now The Voice of the Pumpjacks, a minor league baseball team. He's so excited. He's kinda like Gomer Pyle. When he talks to me he sounds like a dorky kid - talks kinda fast and even has a slight stutter on some words. But put him on a microphone and he sounds like a disc jockey! His voice gets deeper and his speech slows. Amazing. He does a good job and I'm tickled for him. The team can't decide on a mascot. Right now they have a donkey and a dinosaur. Not sure about the donkey but they say the dinosaur is connected to fossil fuels which relates to oil being pumped by a pumpjack. It's a stretch if you ask me. If they're called Pumpjacks then they oughta just use a damn pumpjack as the team symbol.

 

CeeCee is taking swimming lessons. She's 20 months old and FEARLESS. My niece says she's a little fish and loves swimming - and she's only been in lessons for a week. She'll be diving off the high board by the time she's two. Ha!! Of course, because she's fearless, she always has a bruise or two (or five). She got hit in the head with a rock ("accidentally" thrown by her 2.5 year old cousin) and never cried until they had to hold her still to glue the cut together at the ER. I think she thinks she's a shark because she's always on the move and hates to be still. At the store she rides in the buggy like she's on a parade float. As they meet or pass people she smiles at them. If they don't acknowledge her she says, "Hey!" If they still don't speak she says, "HEY!!" They usually turn at that point to see who she's hollering at, and then she smiles at them and says, "Hi." It's impossible not to smile back at the cute little smile and the huge eyes.

 

The women's basketball coaches came through yesterday arguing about something. The assistant asks me as she turns her back to me, "MizAngie, do I have a square butt?" Me, "No, but you do have junk in your trunk." Asst, "Coach says I have a square butt. She's calling me Spongebob Squarepants!" All I could do was laugh. The people I work with are CRAZY!!!

 

Okay, the Spurs are beginning their 3rd quarter choke. Gotta go yell at the tv...

This morning a work friend called and excitedly asked, "Did you hear what happened to Debbie this morning?" Noooo. "Well, when she got to work this morning there was a SAVED MESSAGE on her phone and she NEVER saves messages, and guess who it was?" I don't know...who? "It was JERI singing Happy Birthday!" Well, okay, I kinda got a little chill as a rat ran over my grave. This doesn't sound like a big deal, right? Wellll, it was Jeri's funeral I attended yesterday. Creepy, huh? I thought it was the freakiest thing I've ever heard. So I called another friend and was telling her what so and so just told ME. This friend had the REAL scoop so she told me that no, no, the message wasn't new - it was from December when the girl had her birthday and it was unusual because normally she doesn't save her messages. Oh. I felt a little silly at that point. I mean, I don't believe in ghosts or messages from the dead. Or, I didn't THINK I did. I sure was quick to give this morning's message the benefit of the doubt. Ha!!

 

I hired another kid to help in the office this summer. White Boy in the morning, a baseball guy in the afternoon. I prefer female office workers because they seem to grasp the office concept a little better. But, these guys are around and needed a summer job. White Boy took Baseball Guy around to the other offices where we do business so he would know where to go on errands and stuff. It wasn't two minutes later when I get a call from the business office asking what my interview process is for new hires. "Do they have to submit glamour shots? Why do you only hire good looking boys?" Nooooo, they don't submit glamour shots. That's SILLY. But I figure a cute kid can answer the phone and file purchase orders just as easily as an ugly one. Ha!! In all honesty, neither of these boys would be considered "my type." I never did go for the pretty boys - probably because it would have been futile to do so. I liked farm boys or cowboys - preferably with a little meat on their bones. As I've aged my tastes have changed from breathtaking to, um, breething; from interested to...willing. Ha!

 

I got a call this morning from our football coach who grew up in Oregon. He tells me it's raining really hard outside, "I'd say it's what you call a turd floater." Hang on - and I got up and peeked out the front door. "No, Coach, it's just raining, and not raining hard enough to be a turd floater. Nice try, though, at trying to learn the lingo." Several minutes later the sky got darker and I could hear the rain on the roof of the gym, so I called him back, "Okay, Coach...NOW it's a turd floater!" Coach, "What if it starts raining harder?" Me, "That would be a gully-washer." Coach, "What if it rains even harder than that?" Me, "Then you better build a damn boat!" Hahahahhaa.

 

A lot of people watch the weather to determine what they'll wear that day, or which mode of transportation they'll take. I don't. I watch the weather so I'll know whether to leave Timber in the house or in the yard. This morning the weather forecast was a 20% chance for rain, and that would probably be further north of here - maybe a few scattered light showers for us. Pffft. It's a wonder Timber didn't drown this afternoon. It frickin' POURED. I am glad to report, though, that he must have gone into the mini-barn because he was only slightly damp when I got home as opposed to soppin' wet. Gooood dog. And he enjoyed the toweling off he received.

 

The rain knocked my tomato plants over. Shit! I need to figure out a way to tie 'em up but I don't have any stakes. I think I can scoot the barrell over by the porch railin' and tie 'em to that. At least they got a good waterin'. I didn't think they'd need staked up - I thought they were supposed to be bushes instead of vines but they sure as shootin' got knocked over. I hope the rain didn't murder my precious tomato plants!!! Aaaaarghhhhhh!!!!!

 

Last week I was humming "Copacabana" [Manilow] and White Boy started singing along. Me, "Dude. Ya know how I know you're gay?" [A line from 40-Year Old Virgin] White Boy, "I'M NOT GAY!" Me, "Then why are you singing Manilow?" Ha!! This morning I was humming "Sweet Caroline" [Diamond] when White Boy started singing. Me, "DUDE. Ya know how I'm positive you're gay?" White Boy, "NO. NO WAY!! I only know this because the crowd sings it at the Boston Redsox games!!" Me, "Yeah, ooooooookay." So he youtubed it and showed it to me. Funny stuff! But for about ten minutes we very maturely exchanged "You're gay" "No I'm not" "Yes you are" "NO I'm not" "You're gay" "NO" "Football bat" "UH-UH!" "Three-dollar bill" "Stop it!" Hahahahhahahha!!! [Yes, I know - absolutely politically incorrect. Believe me, we're irreverent about everything!]

 

I thawed out a roast the other day and I knew I had to cook it by today or it wouldn't be any good. I decided a lovely beef burgundy would be delish. I didn't have any red wine. So I poured a Lone Star beer in it. Ha!! We'll see how that turns out. It sure as hell smells good, I tell ya that. It's too late to eat it tonight but it'll be good tomorrow with some roasted red potatoes and squash casserole. Mmm-mmm. That shit'll make ya wanna slap ya mama.

 

I'll bet my firstborn child that the Lakers are gonna beat the Spurs in this series. It's all rigged. They'll let the Spurs win these home games so us fans won't lose our respect for them but they'll go back to LA and finish the series. Why? Because the Spurs have won a few championships lately and the Lakers haven't. The Lakers need a championship to draw their restless fans back in. Can you imagine how much money a Celtics-Lakers series would earn? Pistons-Lakers would draw a lot of interest, too, but not like Celtics-Lakers. I guarantee you it'll be Boston & L.A. in the championship... It's all so frickin' rigged.

 

And on that happy note I'll sign off so I can go yell at the tv.

Wellll, my US flag was worn out and I haven't replaced it yet so I celebrated Memorial Day with a beautiful Texas flag hangin' on my house. I must confess, though, that I usually do have a Texas flag on the house. I think the flag is pretty, and it matches my red geraniums and the "Lone Star" (not beer) I have on the porch. All I need is a doorbell that plays "Texas, Our Texas" and I'll be good t'go.

 

There are a lot of nice tributes on the spaces I read. I can tell that many people are conflicted over love of soldiers and hatred of war. The whole shitaree is frustrating. My grandfather, daddy, brother, and now niece's husband (he's still active) all served - along with lots of cousins and uncles. One of my daddy's cousins is still on the U.S.S. Arizona at the bottom of the bay in Hawaii. My mother said I probably have some siblings in Southern Italy and Northern Africa because my daddy was stationed there during WWII. Someone asked him about fooling around with other nationalities and races and his reply was "it's all pink on the inside." Niiiiice. Another time he was asked about "saltpeter," the stuff that was put in soldier's food to lessen his libido. My daddy said, "you can't keep a good man down." He was a mess and a half.

 

The blue part of my Monday started real early when I had to get up to get ready for a funeral. Yech. The friend who guilted me into going called this morning and said she was sick as a dog and couldn't go. That left me with three other women from my work that I used to be close to but over the years and my transfer to a different building our friendship has naturally cooled. It was the right thing to do to attend this lady's funeral - for her daughter if nothing else. Very nice people. Anyway, the women I was with all still work in the building I used to work in with them. They all eat lunch together, watch the soap opera together. It didn't take long before I felt totally out of place and wished I had driven my own vehicle. It made me kinda sad. Don't get me wrong - they weren't being rude, or deliberately leaving me out, and we're all still friends...just not as close. I couldn't help but reflect on the changes that have taken place that took me "outta the fold." It's weird how just working in a different department or different building can make people once close grow apart. Priorities change, new friendships are made. It's all very natural but I know that when I retire I'll completely lose contact with these people who have meant something to me for thirty plus years. I'm not the type to continuously pursue someone, and obviously they're not either. Ha! There are a few people I make an effort to keep in contact with but not many. That's just how I am...

 

This evenin' I went to the basketball coach's house and he grilled burgers -n- dogs for me, his family, and three ballplayers who are here for summer school. It was fun. As I fixed my burger I picked up a piece of onion and asked if any of the guys had intended to kiss me, or could I put onion on my burger. The guy from New Orleans raised his hand. Hahahhahah!!! I told him I'd kiss him tomorrow after I brushed my teeth. I'm old enough to be his grandmother so we all got a laugh over it. I don't know if any of you have known people from NOLA, but the people who live in the Wards or Projects have a distinct way of speaking that is very hard to understand if you're not used to it. The kid who raised his hand is definitely one I have to concentrate on in order to catch what he says. He's funny.

 

Bleahhhhhh - it's back to the salt mines tomorrow. I think I can make it since it's just a 3.5 day week. Ha!! Once I get up I do okay but it takes me FOREVER to get outta bed. I just hate gettin' up and gettin' dressed. I need a job that goes from noon til 8:00 - I mean, noon til 1:00. Hahhahahaha...

 

Later.

That's from "Sunday Morning Sidewalks" by Kris Kristofferson. A fabulous song and oh, so true!!! There are forces at work here trying to depress the shit outta me - and it's working! The weekend started off great but I keep running into depressing things:

 

(1)  Got a call from a friend that another friend died on Friday. She found out three weeks ago that she had advanced lung cancer and croaked on Friday. Absolutely I'm feeling guilty for not sending her a card or calling last week when I first heard about her being sick. I was "gonna" do it but I kept putting it off. I should feel MORE guilty because she retired over five years ago and I've only seen her once since then - and she was the one who initiated that contact. I'm crap.

 

(2)  I watched what I thought was a kid movie last night on PPV but, jiminy cricket, it wasn't very kid-friendly after all. It was "The Waterhorse." In the previews the happy lil Loch Ness Monster looked very "Free Willy-ish" and the little boy character was laughing and happy. Bullshit. I hope I'm not ruining this for anybody - if you haven't seen the movie and plan to STOP READING HERE AND GO TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH. Okay, turns out the little boy was lonely for his father then just as he and Nessie (Crusoe) become buddies he has to put the creature out in the Loch so then the creature and the little boy are pining for each other. I was sobbing by the end of the dadgum movie. So much for happy lil kid movies. I had to keep telling myself "it's a movie!" as if there really was a kid who found an egg that was the Loch Ness creature. But....ya never know!!!

 

(3)  I decided I needed some sunshine, maybe get a little sun on my snow-white legs. I gathered up my book, a cushion for the lawnchair, a spritz bottle of cool water, my book, my glasses and traipse out the backdoor for some natural Vitamin D. I drag two lawnchairs together - one for my butt, one for my feet - make sure they're in the best sun, sit, get my book, start reading...sun goes behind a cloud. I wait.....and I wait.....but the clouds are darkening a bit and look like they're settled in for the rest of the day. I put my book down and lean my head back and just look around at the trees, sky, a squirrel at the back of the yard scratching around, the dogs. I notice that the huge oak tree behind my fence reminds me of the ones in my grandmother's yard when I was a kid except the limbs were growing up and out instead of up and over from being blown in one direction all the time by the Gulf winds always blowing inland. Which brought my mind to my mother blah blah blah....STOP IT!!! Gave up, gathered up all my paraphanalia and came back in the house....just in time to see the sun come back out. Shit.

 

(4)  Decided to watch a movie. Watched a movie with Meryl Streep and Renee Zelwegger. BIG MISTAKE. A story about a daughter going home to care for her mother who is dying of cancer. Ugh.

 

(5)  Turned off the tv and now I'm whining on my blog about depressing stuff.

 

I think I'll bathe the dog and then take a nap.

 

Cha-cha-cha-cha..cha-cha..I have maters & peppers chacha! ha-ha-ha-ha..haHA!

 

Yep, I have teensy-tiny peppers and tomatoes on my front porch plants! I had my cherry tomato plants sittin' inside a galvanized bucket so I couldn't figure out why the plants were so DRY. Lifted up the bucket and realized the entire bottom had rusted out. Duh. So I moved that pot to another thingy so it would hold more water. Note to self: Next time I buy plants I need to wear my magnifying glasses. Shit! I thought I bought a bell pepper plant but it's a sweet chili pepper plant. What the hell is a SWEET CHILI PEPPER? Never heard of such. I'm sure it'll be good. I'll stuff it with meat & rice and bake it with cheese on it and it'll be fine. You can do that with anything - peppers,tomatoes, old shoes - and it tastes good. If you're not sure about how to fix somethin' just bake it with cheese on it or dip it in chocolate. One of 'em will be just right! I figure I'm a week to ten days from having my own produce stand. Ha!! In the meantime I'm gonna get up early and go to the farmer's market for some fresh veggies. Mmmmm... I'm hopin' they have some watermelons. They have 'em in the grocery stores but they're too expensive, and the local ones aren't ready yet. So I'm hopin' somebody has brought a load up from the Valley (South Texas). I'm feenin' for some cold watermelon! Mmmmm....

 

Well, I've been as useless as a third tit yesterday and today. I went to work but after shuffling paper for a few minutes I ended up playing freecell and surfin' the net. Then that got bored so I harrassed people until that got boring. Then I had lunch. Then more solitaire and surfing, then I came home. Ha! I typed two scholarship letters today and it just wore me smooth out. Hahahhaha!! My boss was only there for a few minutes today. He had his annual physical with Dr. Harry Bigknuckles. (That's what he calls him.) The trainer told him not to worry unless the doc is checking his prostate with both hands on my boss's shoulders. Ha! and Ewwwww!!!

 

My sister has some job leads and interviews next week. If you're a prayin' person, please pray my sister gets a job very soon. Children's Protective Services (CPS) told her they had a position for which they would hire her, but she would have to give up her foster daughter that she's had since the girl was 3 or 4 years old! They said it would be a conflict of interest even though she would be working in a different area from the foster caseworkers. Government beaurocracy is so much bullshit. We love Sandra like she's our own now - we can't just give her up! Sheesh. And what would that do to Sandra? Of course, this is the same agency that's now taking heat for taking all those FLDS kids away from their parents without stronger evidence they were being abused. Hmmm. Methinks I smell ineptitude. Or maybe it's just overzealousness. I shouldn't be so quick to accuse. But if you mess with my sister- you mess with ME! Y'all know how that is...

 

Okay, gotta go to bed if I'm gonna wake up early in the morning. Y'all have a GREAT Memorial Day weekend.

Jon Lester of the Boston Redsox pitched a no-hitter last night. It was awesome and I'm nowhere near a Sox fan. I was watching the Astros v Cubs and ESPN broke in and showed the botom of the 9th inning so we all got to see the no-no. What made this accomplishment even better was the fact that this guy is a cancer survivor. A year or so ago he was taking chemo and wondering if he would even be alive this year and now he's accomplished one of the greatest feats a pitcher can accomplish. I'm such a sucker for stuff like this.

 

In the national baseball tourney we're hosting this week teams are now finishing their efforts through the double-elimination process. It's sad. They all have such hope and excitement on their faces when they get there, and it all changes after they know that any hope of winning a title has ended. But...if one more hard-ass tells me all-knowingly that "well, they can't ALL win" I'm gonna give 'em a knee to the groin. I've already done the sarcastic "Ohhhh, REALLLLY?????"

 

I cratered last night and turned on the air conditioner after I woke up at 3:00 a.m. with sweaty hair stuck to my scalp. Yech. Timber was stretched out on the floor because it was cooler there than in the bed, even tho I had kicked every piece of cover off. I could practically hear the electric meter sound like a weedeater (bzzzzzzbzzzzzbzzzz) as it spun around charging me a fortune. It still amazes me that I lived without air conditioning until I was in high school. We had one window unit in the living room so Mother hung thick curtains in the doorways to "trap" the cool air. On the hottest nights we would all pile in the living room and sleep on couches, cushions, chairs, or air mattresses (not like the big ones they have now - old narrow ones like from the dollar store). I hate living in town. I'd love to sleep with my windows open with the night air and a fan - that's awesome - but in town there's too much noise and too many people wandering around at night looking for stuff to get into. Sooooo, I sleep with my windows shut tight and the damn air conditioning and dream of a screened in porch. {sigh}

 

I felt like an IDIOT a few minutes ago. My caller i.d. had my daughter-in-law's name on it so I picked up the phone and said "Hey!" I shoulda looked at the area code because it was a woman who coincidentally has the same name. Very professional...NOT.

 

I'm getting ready to go back to the ballfield. I'll try to post a pic of the "ticket shack" later. It's a rock building about 12X12 that was built by the WPA back in the 1940s. It's pretty cool. Well, not "cool" temperature-wise as it's in the mid-90s here today. Ugh. It feels cool until about 2:00 when it begins to feel amazingly like a bbq pit with me acting as the meat getting cooked. Yow-za. Sucks to be me in the ticket shack until the sun goes down...

 

I am looking forward to Friday and the weekend. Later!

Today we started closing the offices at 1:00 pm on Friday for the summer. It's fabulous! Of course I had a dozen things planned to do around the house in my four "free" hours. Pffffft. Did I mention that I'm a procrasinator? Welll, on my way out the front door the women's basketball coaches came out and said they were going to eat Chinese food so I went with 'em. A buffet. UGH. Me + buffet = gluttonous disaster. Ha!! So instead of coming home and accomplishing great things I came home and took a damn nap. Timber was glad but now I'll be up late doing the stuff I meant to do earlier. Dadgummit!!! Orrrrrrr, I'll put it off til another day. Ha!! Ahhh, the beauty of living alone with few responsibilities to anyone but myself.

 

After leaving the restaurant the coaches and I were driving side by side (them on their way back to the gym, me on my way to the bank). As we pulled up to a stoplight I looked straight ahead but flipped them a bird nonchalantly. When I looked to my left Coach is flashing me a boob (in her bra - not nekkid)...so I flashed her back with one of my girls. Then she rolled down the window and said, "Excuse me, Madame, but do you have some Grey Poupon?" To which I sillily (is that a word?) replied, "Yes, I do...IN MY BUTT." Her reply? "Wouldn't that be POOP-on?" Hahahaha. She's sooo punny!!!

 

It's all baseball all the time tomorrow and Sunday. There's a song by the Blackeyed Peas that the announcer at the basketball games plays in EVERY pregame and EVERY halftime beginning called "Let's Get it Started." I'm SICK of it after a brazilian games this year in the gym. So what's playing in my head as I think of the opening day of the tourney. Yep. Youuuuuu got it. It's liable to drive me nuts. I may go to work in the morning with an icepick stickin' out of my right ear from trying to stop myself from thinking about that damn song!!!!! Usually I can think about the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" or the old-timey "Shoo Fly Song" to get other songs outta my head but it's not working. I'm hoping that once we get the stupid tournament started I can move on. AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!

 

Time to put some clothes in the washer. Chores - bleahhhh. No, wait...I have one more clean shirt and some clean capris I can wear tomorrow. BONUS. Time to lay on the couch and watch the Astros v Rangers... {giggle}

 

I think I might need to jack this blog up and run a new one under it. According to my "stats" page I have a brazilian views everyday, but hardly a soul is leaving comments. Wasssupppp? I loves me some comments...Ha!! There seems to be quite the exodus from spaces to different blog locales. I've thought about it but I've been too lazy to switch over. And, naive me, I thought that since I had page views that meant people were actually reading my blog. But Jean explained it to me sorta and it wasn't nearly as flattering as I thought. Ha! Something about RSS feeds...??? I had over 150 views yesterday. I was thinkin' I should probably write a book if I was THAT popular. Nope. RSS feeds... Hold the book! I had the same feeling I did when I wore the coolest dress to the prom and didn't get any compliments. Very disheartening. Ha!!

 

It came a real turd-floater today. Whew! I left Timby in the house because of the tornado watches and warnings and the flash flood warnings. The curb in front of the gym runs like a river during a hard rain. I always get my feet soaked because my short legs don't have the length span to get from the street to the sidewalk - I have to take at least one step in the deep water by the curb. Ugh. Two coaches came in and the men's basketball coach asked the women's basketball coach if she got her feet wet. "No," she said, "my legs were long enough to step across. Did you?" He replied, "Yes, I did. I thought I would just walk across and I was shocked when I sank." Hahahahaha!! Knowing the size of his ego, I'm not sure at all if he was kidding. Ha!! I TIVO my soap opera everyday and then watch it at night. Tonight I was watching and I forgot it was TIVO. The weather map was in the corner, the warnings were flashing, and I'm thinking to myself, "CRAP - looks like we're in for MORE storms!" I'm lookin' out the window and it's not particularly dark. Hmmph. Then a warning starts scrolling at the bottom of the screen about a tornado watch that will expire at 3:15pm. DUH! Then it dawned on me I was watching the TIVOd show and those were this morning's warnings. What an idiot. Not only that but I could have been fast forwarding through all the commercials! What an idiot.

 

My boss found an old vinyl banner in the closet today. We thought it would make a helluva slip-n-slide as it was 20-30 feet long and 5 feet wide. I told the baseball coach he should take it home because he lives on a steep hill and that would be great fun. Of course, he'd have to go 3 blocks over to get his kids after they made that slide because their momentum would take them that far. Come to find out, he teaches the little boys in baseball camp how to slide into bases by beginning on a slip-n-slide! So that banner really will be a fun water-ride for baseball camp this summer. I felt so GREEN for recycling all that vinyl! I kinda want to sneak out to camp and play with them...just my luck I'd break a hip or something.

 

I had to call a team in New Jersey to ask for a roster. I said, "This is Angie at *** in *****, Texas." The dude cracked up! I asked him, "WHAT...?" He says, "You really don't have to tell me you're from Texas - I could tell right away." Oh. Well, prolly so. So I tell him I need a roster. "A what?" A roster. "Say again?" A roster! You know, a list of the team with numbers, positions, and stuff. "Oh, I knew. I just wanted to hear you say it again." UH!! I'll get that a lot this comin' week. We have teams coming from New Jersey, Minnesota, Maryland, Missouri, and several other places. The most fun is talking to people with different accents. We all seem to get quite a kick out of it for some reason. My favorite are the yankees, er, northerners, er, people from up north that go to WalMart to buy cowboy hats while they're here. This guy last year had a hat on that didn't even fit right so he looked like he was wearin' a little kid hat. Too funny. He was channeling his inner-cowboy. Ha!

 

I have one eye on this blog and one eye on the local tv news. They're interviewing several people about storm damage, etc.. There sure seems to be a lot of people in this area with sommer-teeth (You know, some 'er missing - some 'er there.) and for some reason the television reporters always seem to find them. I wonder if reporters arrive on-site and start lookin' for the snaggle-toothed people to interview? I know one thing - dentists are too frickin' expensive! But I think I'd hock my tv (and y'all know how I love my tv!) before I went toothless, especially in the front. But that's me... Times are tough. I've never had to make the decision to feed the family or keep my teeth, but I know others have. But, okay, if I DO have to go toothless I'm NOT gonna do tv interviews!!

 

I'm takin' my hateful ass to bed. G'night! 

 

 

 

The football coach at our college is very "old school." He basically knows how to check his email and reply but that's about all he and the computer do together. Several of our coaches call their computers "email machines." Anyway, we stress to everyone in our department to be careful that kids don't have access to their computers and especially be sure no improper websites are visited (porn). So that explains the panicked call I received from Coach this morning:

 

Coach:  You're not gonna belieeeeeeve this! (Note: When Coach is excited he talks loudly and dramatically.)

Me: What? (I'm kinda used to his drama so I answered in more of a dull tone than curious.)

Coach:  I just got an EEEEEmail from SPAM and it says, "I haaaaaave yer orrrrrder ready for youuuuuu. Now youuuuuuuu can have the kind of SEX LIFE you allllllways wanted and even go for up to EIGHT HOURS." Angie, WHAT am I gonna DO about THAT?

Me:  Well, Coach...I think I'd order that shit!

 

My reply was answered by complete silence, and then I heard two of his assistants explode in giggles. They, of course, knew what SPAM was and had seen that kind of ad numerous times. But once Coach gets his dander up it's hard to settle him down. He was hell-bent on letting someone knew he had NOT ordered any kind of sex products. Ha!! Needless to say he wasn't expecting my answer. The poor lil assistant coaches tried soooo hard not to bust out laughing but they couldn't hold it in any longer. When I heard the others laughing I started laughing, too, because I could imagine the look on the guy's face - then he finally "got it" and started laughing. Ga, it was so funny!!

 

This afternoon those same assistant football coaches brought a huge stack of textbooks that players had asked them to return for them. Many of our books come with disks, supplemental materials, etc. So when one of the coaches was staring at this random disk I start trying to match it up with a book so I'm asking, "Is it BCIS? Is it Speech?" He kept saying, "Nooooo." but he was wrinkling his brow, studying the disk. Finally I said, "Well let me SEE it and I'll tell you which book it goes with!" He handed it to me, I looked at it, and said, "Must be extra credit for his Anatomy & Physiology book." The title of the disk covered with t&a? "Bangin' in Da Hood - Vol XI." Hahahahha!!!

 

By the end of the day I felt like I needed to come home and take a cold shower! Or somethin'...

 

This morning I got a call from a verrrry country-talking older gentlemen who had questions about his grandson attending baseball's summer camp for kids. I've talked to this guy before - for HOURS! Or it seemed so. The graduate assistant coach happened to come in the office so I told the old man he could talk to a real coach - he was pumped. Ten minutes later I'm brewin' a cuppa coffee, relaxin', and the g.a. came in and said, "Man. I thought you were playing some kind of joke on me with that guy! I nearly hung up on him but then I realized he was a real guy." Then he started imitating the ol' boy and it was frickin' hilarious. He didn't do it in a mean way - he was telling me what the guy said and trying to sound as country as the man did and he sounded funny. If he said "sod-orm pish" [side-arm pitch] once he said it twenty times. Ha!

 

I called the soccer coach this morning to raise hell about some paperwork he left undone. Everytime I would start bitchin' he would sing "Angelina" to the tune of the Happy Birthday song. I'd stop talking, he'd stop singing. As soon as I started bitchin' again, on came the song. I couldn't help myself - I had to laugh. So we giggled like 7th graders for awhile and then I told him I was mad at him about this paperwork, to which he replied "I know." Which struck me funny. More laughter. I said, "You gotta stop and let me get my mad-on again." "Oh noooooo, I can't do that." I finally gave up and said, giggling, "Fine. Whatever. Come sign this shit!" He'll be by tomorrow to take care of it.

 

Other than intermittent silliness the day was b-o-r-i-n-g! No kids, very few coaches, not much paperwork - not even enough stuff with which to procrastinate! So I read blogs, surfed the net, played freecell, played MORE freecell, listened to music, and generally b.s.'d around. Next week I'll be at the ballfield a lot since we're hosting a national tournament (that we didn't qualify for after winning it last year). I'm pretty bummed about THAT! I'm taking a good novel with me tomorrow.

 

I hope y'all are havin' a good week...

I made the hour and a half drive south to put flowers at two cemeteries last weekend and it went okay. The weather turned off fabulous and the day was beautiful. I cried at my parents' graves but it was more of a "I loved these two people so much and I'm sad they're not here anymore" cry than a "I miss these people so much I want to die myself" cry. Good, huh? I wonder when that happened. It's true, I guess, that time heals all wounds. I think, for me, I was so upset about losing my folks that I kept scratching the scab off the painful wound - thus it has taken a lot longer to heal. So, I may have a scar now but I do believe the wound has finally healed - but I'm not sure when it happened as it was so gradual. That doesn't mean I don't miss my folks. I miss them everyday. I absolutely believe that the love of my family and friends has gradually pulled me out of my little dark place. I include my blogger-buddies in that, too. The more people I visit with and talk with, the less time I have to dwell on myself and my sadness. And I would challenge anyone to spend time with my crazy nieces and nephews and stay depressed. Ha! They're so witty and funny!! And, in all honesty, I got to a point where I WANTED to feel better. I was tired of being sooo incredibly sad. A guy at work told me the other day that I'm obsessed with death. I agree. For over ten years I've been thinking about death. Dead mama, dead daddy, dead dogs, dead cats. Ugh. I remember events by how they correlate to their death-dates. It's weird to see that in writing! Sounds like I needed some frickin' therapy. Ha!!

 

The cemetery where my folks are buried is next to a fairly busy highway, and there was some sort of festivus at the church beside the cemetery. So I did my thing, cried, and then moved on to the cemetery where my sister-in-law's mom is buried. Her mom hasn't been dead very long so this weekend was tough on my SIL. Anyway, to get to that cemetery I had to turn onto a less traveled highway, onto a farm-to-market road, to another farm-to-market road. In other words, I was out in the damn boonies! Where'd you bury your mother? In Bumfucked, Egypt! Sheesh. But it's verrrry quiet out there. Anyway, I was in the middle of this cemetery when I got the CREEPS. Not because I was in a cemetery - no, all those people were dead and couldn't hurt me - but because I got the feeling somebody was gonna stop and try to rob me or whatever. So I hurriedly said, "Here, Mrs. ******, here's yer flowers - we miss you - I'm outta here!" And I couldn't get to my truck and get outta there fast enough! WEIRD. I was terrified the truck wouldn't crank but it did and I was fine. My imagination freaks me out fairly often. Ha!!

 

On the way home I decided not to go the usual way so I cut through the countryside to Nacogdoches and then back up to home. It was a bee-yoo-tiful drive! Everything was incredibly green and fresh - flowers were blooming in yards and in the ditches. FABULOUS!! A friend had given me some cd's so I rolled down the window, let my hair down so it could blow free, cranked up Omar Kent & Jimmie Vaughn (Texas blues), and let the beauty of the day remind me of how incredibly blessed I am with friends and family, health and well-being. Life is good! But don't worry - I haven't suddenly turned into a Pollyanna. I'm still as pessimistic as ever, just not so morbid. Hahahhahaahaha!!!

 

Tomato update:  Upside down tomatoes are not doing so well. Pictures later in the week...

Bleah!! Another semester in the file. This year has flown by, especially the weekends and holidays (ha!). Scholarship athletes have been returning their books most of the week with the deadline being today [supposedly]. I sent an email this morning listing the athletes who had not been by so coaches could contact them and "git after 'em." This afternoon three li'l tennis guys came rushing in slightly panicked, "Are we late?" "Noooo. But you won't win the prize for getting your books in early! I guess that means you get the booby-prize." I know, it didn't make much sense but I was just speaking nonsense. Wellllll, I guess the newer generation doesn't know about booby-prizes because one of the guys looked in the vicinity of my chest and said with a surprised smile, "O-Kay!" Good grief. I put my head in my hand and, laughing, explained that a booby-prize is not supposed to be a good thing so now I think I've confused them. They STILL don't know if a booby-prize is really a prize or some kind of punishment. Ha! If they saw me braless they would REALLY wonder. (Gravity is not my friend, boys.)

 

My friend is in charge of registration and graduation. Today she was putting the finishing touches on the graduation stage, directional signs, and all the behind-the-scenes things that people appreciate but take for granted. She has her own terminology for some of the stuff she deals with that make me laugh. The college mace (a pole thing with the college seal on it - very fancy looking) is The Stick. The new portable stage has railing around the sides so my country friend whose daddy was an ag [agriculture] teacher calls it the cattle chutes. (It really does look like livestock pens.) The covers they give to the students that are passed out at graduation but don't contain a diploma are her "fake degrees." The ferns, palms, and flowers decorating the stage are "the bushes." The graduation gowns are "bathrobes." She has made me laugh all day.

 

Love Me Like a River Does. "Love me, that is all..." To listen:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFjoEl1sk1Q . Do we find love or does it find us? I thought I had found it a coupla times but it never worked out, leaving me (and I KNOW this sounds incredibly pitiful but, shit, I feel kinda pitiful tonight) believing myself to be unloveable. Well, THAT kinda love, anyway. I guess I truly stink at reading people because I sure did think I found real love. Nope. At the end of the video I linked it is captioned, "What keeps us alive? What allows us to endure?...I think it is the hope of loving, of being loved." This song, while beautiful, has filled me with incredible longing. And as for longing, well, I'm NOT a fan.

 

I'm holding out as long as I can on turning the air conditioning on in the house. I sure can't answer the door after I get home from work because I strip down to my skivvies and a tshirt so I'll be cooler. Getting to sleep is not easy when it's too warm, but toward morning it cools off very nicely. Of course, my ceiling fans are on high but they're cheaper to run than the a/c. Sheesh. Everything is so frickin' HIGH.

 

I'm disappointed...I guess my invitation to Jenna Bush's wedding got lost in the mail. Hmmm. Just as well  - I wouldn't have anything to wear. Ha! The wedding she planned is very similar to the wedding I planned as an assignment in "Home & Family Living" (Home Ec) back in high school. My friend and I, when we're bored, plan our weddings. We're both old maids so we decided that if we got married at this late stage of life it would have to be a doozy of a wedding. She had a crush on a tennis coach so we planned her wedding for the NCAA tennis tournament (or the U.S. Open). She would walk onto a lovely tennis court (wearing white, of course - with tennis shoes) through two lines of ballboys. The recessional would go through a tunnel of uplifted tennis rackets. Ha!! My wedding was going to be at The Final Four at halftime of the championship game. Instead of "Here Comes the Bride" they would play that song you hear at the beginning of all NBA games over the loudspeaker. The preacher would do our vows over the P.A. as if he were calling out a lineup. At the reception we would serve nachos, popcorn, and beer. Hahahhahahhaha!!! My recessional song would be "We Are the Champions" by Queen. We usually do this when we're actually watching a tennis match or basktball game, or if we're driving somewhere. The more bored we are the crazier we get on the plans. I left out some of the really elaborately stupid things we came up with but it was funny stuff.

 

Tomorrow I'm going south to put flowers on my parents' graves and also on my sister-in-law's mother's grave. I haven't been to the cemetery in a long time and I feel a need to go there this weekend. Sunday is Mother's Day. Ugh. My mother would say, "Oh, that's so sweet. I love you." My daddy would say, "Gas is too high to drive all over the countryside going to a cemetery. I love you." {sad giggle}

 

Y'all have a good weekend. I hope you Mothers have a lovely Sunday, and I hope all you Muthahs do, too. 

 

 

 

 

We were in tornado watches and warnings most of this day. Or in severe thunderstorm warnings. We got a lot of rain. One of my favorite sites during heavy rain is a set of steps leading from one area of the campus to the street. When the rain is really comin' down those steps look like a waterfall. So I was hangin' out the front door of the gym this afternoon watching "the waterfall" when a big-ass pickup truck came barrellin' down the street ridin' as close to the curb as he could get so he would spray water up from the tires. That big spray of water missed me by inches. Before I knew what I was doing I stepped out onto the porch of the gym and flipped the little bastard off big as life. Then I remembered I was at work and skulked back into the building hoping I had been invisible for those few minutes. I didn't see anybody, and it was rainin' pretty hard, so maybe nobody saw me. But it pissed me off to no end. Ha!! I worked a few minutes and then went back to watch the rain again (it was obviously a slow day at the ol' college). I noticed four kids by the waterfall playin' in the rain. Drama department kids, probably. They tend to have free-er spirits. I watched as one of the boys belly-flopped into the fountain that we call "the duck pond." (It's a fountain with a flying geese sculpture.) Awesome! I was more than a bit envious - not necessarily of the fountain-dive but of the absolute freedom he personified at that moment. His finals were probably over, he was with three friends, and he obviously couldn't give two hoots what anybody thought of his actions. Freedom. No responsibilities. Heaven!

 

I watch the weather channel faithfully during the spring so I can try to outsmart the storms that are common this time of year. I don't mind leaving Timber outside during a light rain but when it's a thunderstorm (or tornado warnings) I want him in. I came home at lunch today and put him in and was very thankful that, today, the weatherman was right and I beat the storms. Whew. At some point when I let him out to pee this evening he sat in something (mud?) and he has two dark spots on the back of his haunches. He looks kinda like a baboon. Ha!

 

My guy was gonna mow today but got rained out. I'm now "that house" on my block that everyone wishes would get their damn yard mowed. Ha! Hopefully he'll be able to mow tomorrow. My "cherry 100" tomatoes are blooming. I oughta have some maters purdy soon. I'm very disappointed in my upside down tomato growing attempt. I think it would be fine if I had somewhere good to hang those dumbass buckets, but I don't. I probably shoulda thought of that before I tried it. However, in my defense, I thought the double shepherd's hook would be ideal. I anticipated the weight of the buckets bending the hook to one side or the other (hence the double - to balance) but I didn't reckon on it bending over backwards. Shit.

 

I flirted with a coach today and then realized I'm old enough to be his mother. BUZZ KILL. So then I thought about the other coaches in the department that would be the right age for me to flirt with (if they were not married). DEPRESSING. I just hate it when reality hits me. I prefer bee-bopping along without thinking.

 

Three baseball players needed 3 hours of community service. Two showed up an hour late this morning, one didn't show up at all. I was not happy. I feel sorry for the boy who didn't show up because, when he eventually does, it ain't gonna be pretty. Homey don't play that shit.

 

I've been upset lately about the increase in reported animal cruelty lately. It's sickening what people can do to dogs/animals. But the reports I've watched this week regarding a "Swinger's Club" are more than sickening. A mother and her boyfriend, and a grandmother, forced their children/grandchildren to perform sex acts on each other and on adults while some sick fucks paid to watch. These people "taught" their kids how to do this stuff. They wouldn't give them food if they didn't do as told. They threatened to kill them if they ever told anyone. You would think this would be a story from another country or a big city, but this happened in a very small town in rural Texas. Unbelievable. I grew up in small towns. Small-town gossip led the sheriff's department to check out the rumors. Deputies who have been in law enforcement for many years have broken down on the stand having to tell what they saw and found at the "club." This story makes me want to vomit. Crying isn't enough.

 

I don't want to finish this post on that sad note, so here's a story from lunch today. I broke bread, well, pizza, with my boss, my friend Denny, and a coupla other administrators from the college. We cussed and discussed work topics. The highest ranking of all of us said that if someone isn't doing what they're supposed to, cut 'em loose (as he moved his fingers in a scissor motion). I said that I believed that people should have a chance to correct their behavior before being cut loose. So my boss says, "Uh, Angie, I need to meet with you tomorrow." We all knew that was a dig at my regular morning tardiness. First I told him I couldn't meet with him because I planned on taking a day of vacation tomorrow (not really). But then I told him that, HEY, everytime he's late or not there I get to work right on time or even early. Ha!! I can't help it if he's not there to see it! hahahahhaha

 

G'night...

With the lovely rains we've received during the last few weeks my yard is now tall enough to cut & bale. I haven't been lucky enough to catch my neighbor alone & drunk so I finally had to bite the bullet and call the retarded guy that I was mean to who mowed the yard one time. Remember? He came on a Saturday and knocked on my door and rang the damn bell every ten minutes for about an hour before I got up and cussed 'im out. Grrrrr. I wasn't expecting him that day. Anyway, I called Mr. Gump's house and talked to his wife Forestina. She said she'd tell her huuuuzben to get on over thay-err on Sat-dee and mow. "Thank you." I got up at 7:30 on Saturday so I'd be ready when he knocked on my door. At 11:00 I decided that maybe I had scared him so bad when I cussed him out for waking me that day that he was waiting until all the early was gone before he came over. So I called to see when he was gonna come mow. HIs wife, very aggravated, said, "Well, he done bin ove der two times." Me, "Really? I'm sorry - I didn't see him and he didn't knock on the door." Turns out he went to the wrong house. So she gives the phone to Mr. Gump so I can tell him which house it is. I took the house numbers down when I painted the door and never managed to put them back so I have to try to explain which house I'm in. "Okay, you know that brick house painted green?" Mr. Gump, "Way-ulllll, nooooooo." Me, "Okay, you know the street down from the hospital?" Mr. Gump, "Ummmmm, which un?" Me, {sigh} "Okay, you remember the lady that you woke up one Saturday and she went nuts?" Mr. Gump, "YEAH!" Me, "Okay, that's my house." Mr. Gump, "OH! Okay, Ah'll be right on t'over." Sheesh. When he got to the house I offered to pay him an extra $10 if he would pick up the little limbs from all the recent storms and the pieces of blanket that Timber and Genny tore up. Great. But he started mowin' before he picked up the sticks and mowed right over a big dog bone chew toy and bent his mower blade. He's comin' back Wednesday evenin' to try again. He probably hates me.

 

My herb & tomato patio (porch) garden is doing great. Upside down tomatoes? Not s'good. The fire ants got 'em. Those bastards shimmied right up the shepherd's hook pole and jumped into the buckets, then crawled down the vine and ate my one and only little pink tomato. Fire ants scare me almost as bad as snakes. I was weed-eatin' around my folks' house one time (when they lived out in the country close to my brother) when I looked down and my foot was covered with fire ants. I spazzed out, they bit me about a million times. It was as bad as stickin' my foot in a beehive. I had blisters on my foot and up my leg everywhere I got bit. It was awful. And I can't describe how bad those thangs itched. Awww, shit. It was bad.

 

Officials in Harrison County, Texas think they might have a serial animal abuser in their vicinity. They found a dead dog along a farm-to-market road that had obviously been dragged along the road. Last weekend a passer-by saw a beautiful boxer dog by the road that had been dragged but he was still alive. He's going to have a back leg amputated but he'll live. I don't see how anyone can do something like that. The police figure this dog was someone's pet that was stolen to abuse. This makes me almost as sick as when I read or hear about child abuse. Abusing anything - animal, child, elderly, weak - is the worst thing imagineable. What kind of sick fucker could do something that cruel? There's a special place in hell for 'em. Needless to say I sobbed through the entire news report about this dog. There he was with a bone stickin' out of his leg, his hide rubbed off his feet and most of his leg, yet he laid there in the vet's cage loving every minute of the attention he was getting from the techs. He had tears runnin' down his "cheeks" - I swear it. He was a gorgeous dog... This just after I recovered from the trauma of the horrible injury to the racehorse at the Kentucky Derby. Man!

 

Feliz Cinco de Mayo mis amigas y amigos! (I'm sure that message is probably structurally incorrect but I cheated my way through high school Spanish and I can't remember anything but Mexican cuss words.)

 

 

We (a friend and I) had a birthday party for another friend today. She turned 70. Usually we would have a small dinner one evening after work, but this time my friend (Gay - her name) and I decided turning 70 warranted a bit more celebration than just the usual. The birthday girl has had a rough year and a half. Her oldest son was diagnosed with Hepatitis C a few years ago and now he has liver cancer. He was on a transplant list but then removed because, basically, it would be a waste of a good liver. The doctors recently told him to get his affairs in order and informed him that, on average, patients with his condition live between 6 months to a year. He's about my age. To make things worse, my friend's son has been an ASS to his mother since he found out he was sick. She became very depressed, as you can imagine, because her son is terminal and a jerk. She went to counseling, and we were all very worried about her. The night I went to her house to celebrate my own birthday we talked before the other celebrants arrived and she told me that she thinks she tried to die. She tried to die before her son did. But when she actually felt herself failing, as if she really might die, something deep inside her began fighting back. Her spirit decided that, although she might want to die, it was gonna go kickin' and screamin'. So her spirit started rekindling the fire in her soul and she slowly started coming back and now, although she feels great sadness about her son, she's doing better. She still questions why her son would have such anger at her, but admits there's a history that ain't all roses and sunshine - but she thought they had gotten past most of that years ago. [Ahhh, codependency...ain't it great?] Today she was the Belle of the Ball. She thought there would be a small gathering but as the afternoon wore on more and more people stopped by to enjoy a margarita and wish her well, maybe even to drop off a gift. It was awesome. She was thrilled in the beginning but as the afternoon wore on she became overwhelmed. With each new arrival a new hug; with each hug another pile of kindling thrown on her soul; with each spark in her soul more fire in her eyes, more warmth in her heart. We can't make up for the struggle with her son or her son's death, but I think - no I'm positive - we reminded her that she is loved and valued and cared for and that she matters to many people. Gay and I stood together as our friend opened gift after gift and squealed with delight at each new arrival to the party, and we knew we had "done good". It was an awesome feeling.

 

I've been blessed with meeting some fabulous people online. But, no offense y'all, there's no substitute for contact with other human beings. I don't do nearly as much social interaction as I should but luckily I have such fabulous friends that quality makes up for quantity. Ha! A virtual hug is no substitute for the real thang.

 

This morning as I was choppin' up fruit for a tray, makin' yogurt dip, and bakin' brownies for the party, I felt kinda guilty for using a mix instead of making brownies from scratch. Not REAL guilty, but lazy guilty. I knew my friend Gay would be bustin' her ass making stuff and there I was dumpin' a mix into the bowl. Then I remembered seeing Paula Deen cutting little round shapes outta some brownies she had made and I thought, "Hmmm." So I dug out my cookie cutters and found a Texas shape. I baked the brownies in a shallow pan and then cut out Texases for the party. So cute! Of course, the chocolate brownie Texases reminded me of a sign that used to be posted outside of Greenville, TX when I was a kid - "Greenville, Texas. The blackest dirt and whitest people in Texas!"  Anyway, the Texas-shaped brownies were the hit of the snack table! Isn't that hilarious? So little effort for such huge rewards! hahaha

 

My friend Gay thinks I'm talented at crafts and music and tells me so often, at the same time lamenting her lack of talent. What an idiot. Part of the reason (a large part) we had such a successful party today was due to her natural talent as a hostess. This woman knows more people than anyone I've ever seen. And not just as casual acquaintances but considers so many of them as good friends. She makes EVERYONE feel welcome, wanted, and comfortable. There are all walks of life at her parties and it all melds into great fun. Today I chatted with a college president for a few minutes and later found myself sitting next to a guy who recently got out of prison for possession of drugs. I would never have the gumption to put so many different characters together in one place. But it works - fabulously. I need to figure out a way to convince Gay that she DEFINITELY has a talent. It takes a special person to do what she does by opening her home and heart to so many.

 

Now, I need to bookmark this post so that the next time I catch myself spending more time online and less time with warm-blooded people close enough to touch I can remind myself how important it is to enjoy human contact. (And not just rolling around naked human contact.) It's soooo much easier to be a hermit. And it's soooo much easier to tell my virtual friends only what I want them to know and hope they're not perceptive enough to read between the lines. But without eyeball to eyeball friends it's too easy to get weird. Not good weird, either.

 

Y'all have a good week. Not just a good virtual week, but a good REAL week. Ha!!

So often I wonder what happened to people from my past. I had a weird thing happen one time regarding a friend from my childhood. Lisa and I were best buds for three years. We lived around the corner from each other in a town of about 400. You'd be hard-put to find those 400 people - I don't know how they came up with that number because there were probably more like 100 of us inside those city limit signs. We rode bikes, horses, spent the night at each other's houses, went on vacations with each other's families - we were together constantly. We moved from that town when I was a sophomore in high school. That was before the days of unlimited texting and long distance, so we were restricted to actually writing letters. We kept in touch pretty good for a coupla months but then she was busy, I was trying to make new friends at my new school, so we quickly lost touch. I often thought of Lisa through the years but never made the effort to contact her. I heard she married and had kids and still lived in that itty-bitty town. Twenty years or so later my parents got a call from Lisa looking for me. It was my birthday month so I was on Lisa's mind. Instead of leaving her number she said she would call back. I waited and waited but she never called again. Months passed. About a year after her call I woke up one morning hell-bent to contact Lisa. I called directory assistance but there was no listing for in her husband's or her name, and her mother's number was unlisted (as it always had been). I was disappointed but let it go. Another year passed and Lisa's sister-in-law showed up at a basketball playoff game in my gym. I was so excited! I could get Lisa's number. But, when I asked the woman about Lisa, she bluntly said, "Oh, Lisa died of ovarian cancer about a year ago." After pondering the things Lisa's sister-in-law told me, I kinda worked out a timeline in my head regarding her calls to me and my effort to contact her. I can't prove it, and it's freaky, but she probably called me when she found out she was sick. The morning I woke up thinking so strongly of her was probably somewhere around the time she died. I still think of Lisa. She was a great friend. I have no doubt that she still thinks of me, too.

 

Every once in a while I wake abruptly at either 6:20 or 4:40. I am always startled awake by the ringing of a phone, but my phone is not ringing. I look at the clock and see the time. I got the call that my Daddy died at 6:20 in the morning. The hospital called me at 4:40 when my Mother died. I don't know if I was dreaming the event, or subconsciously reliving a traumatic moment. But it's weird to still be doing it after 12 & 13 years.

 

I'm still in that mode of remembering people who touched my life, even for just a moment. I wish those people knew I still think of them. That even though life has moved on and we're miles apart living totally different lives, I still think of them and miss them. And I wonder why I wasn't enough, or why I wasn't worthy of pursuing as a friend or for a relationship, whatever the situation.

 

I got an email from a blogger friend. I stopped reading her blog when she shifted her focus and agenda (as I explained to her), but mostly because my own ego got bruised because she didn't comment on my blog as I did her's. [Reminder - it's all about me all the time.] We swapped emails yesterday and today and I find out she has gone through a separation and is busy with single-motherhood, caring for her mother, on and on... I told her I wished I had known so I could have been part of her support system instead of tucking my tail between my legs and runnin' off like a beat dog. I felt selfish, yet knew I had no way of knowing any more about her and her life than she wanted me to know.

 

So, in this "mood" I'm in about thinking about people, Chuck T.I.T.S. presents me with an American flag that he brought me from Iraq. How amazing is that? He's in a frickin' war zone but he thinks enough of me to honor me with an incredible memento. My nephew brought me a flag from Afghanistan when he was there. I have it displayed proudly on my piano in the living room in a nice case. I'll have to get one of those cases for my Iraq flag. Each flag comes with a certificate that looks very impressive.

 

Certificate from nephew/Afghanistan:

     This is to certify that this flag of the United States of America was flown over Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom by 59th Expeditionary Rescue Squadron on the 29th of February, 2004. Presented to Angie ******* by The Crew of "Gecko 42"-HH-60G "PAVE-HAWK".

 

Note:  My nephew, Pete, flies what are commonly known as blackhawks. He's the guy that flies onto battlefields and other scary places to rescue trapped or injured (or worse) soldiers. In a conversation with him when he returned from Iraq one time, I got the strong impression that he doesn't remember the ones he brings back alive nearly as much as those who ride on his helicopter and don't make it. I also don't think he grasps how very proud of him I am and how much I love him.

 

Certificate from Chuck/Iraq:

     Operation Iraqi Freedom. This is to certify that this American flag was flown over the 557th Expeditionary RED HORSE Squadron for Angela ******* by TSgt Chuck ***** and SSgt Kenny *** at Al Asad Air Base, Iraq on 27 March 2007. To all that shall be presented this flag, let it be known that the flying of the flag represents the American resolve following the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 and bears witness to thr destruction of terrorist forces threatening the freedom of the United States of America and the world. The Legend of Chargin' Charlie continues through the actions of the brave men and women that complete the combat engineer missions through joint service tasking. Just as previous Horsemen have held up the tradition of "Feahering the Eagle's Nest," we shall never forget the freedoms we enjoy and the sacrifices that have been made to earn those freedoms. "TO THE HORSE!"

 

I am honored to be loved by these brave men. I'm honored that, while I was thinking of them, they were thinking of me...