I bought myself some fancy glass pens and a variety of colored inks. I thought about how fabulous it would feel to write like a proper Victorian lady and how I would mail these beautifully penned letters to friends and family. They would be so impressed. The letters would not only be beautiful but full of wit and humor. I would be helping to bring old-fashioned letters back in fashion. They would talk about how unique I am and how classy, how special just receiving a letter like that made them feel. So I opened a bottle of ink, dipped my pen, and began to write in what I hoped was flowery and beautiful penmanship. Fuck that. The ink globbed up. Letters would be half bold, half barely visible. The tip of the pen scratched on the paper and kinda gave me cold-chills like nails on a chalkboard. So here I am on the computer again where I may not be witty or humorous and my posts may not be special, but by golly I can type 110 wpm. There's a lot to be said for ease and convenience.

 

I think I'm stuck somewhere between that proper Victorian lady [translation: old chick] and a tech-savvy woman of the new century. Instead of writing a note with fancy ink and paper I'm more likely to scratch something out on the back of a discarded envelope with a ballpoint pen which I stole from the last place I wrote a check. For the tech part, I can type 110 wpm but I can't figure out how to download music to a frickin' ipod. I'm a contrast within myself. A "jack of all trades, master of none" kinda girl. Or, as a friend said, "schizoid bitch." Niiiice.

 

I heated up some leftovers for supper tonight. As I looked at it on my plate it was not appetizing. I didn't want it but it's the day before payday and there's no money in my purse, so it was either leftovers or nuttin'. I'm not one to go the way of "nuttin'" for supper but that's another personality flaw we won't go into. Before I went to sit down to watch my TIVO'd soap opera I chunked a pile of leftovers into Timber's bowl. He didn't share my aversion to the meal and gobbled it up verrrry quickly. (Those of you who have dogs probably know where this story is going.) He ate it so quickly that he was back in the living room by the time I got a glass of water and made my way there. Just as I picked up my fork to get the first bite, Timber "recycled" his glommed-up food onto the living room floor. I couldn't face cleaning up the..., cleaning the floor for a few minutes so I laid an old towel across it so I didn't have to see it. I sat back down and picked up my plate. Oh, no no no. I couldn't go there after what I had just seen so I took it to the kitchen, jammed the food down the garbage disposal, got some papertowels, and went back to clean up Timber's mess. It was a miracle! It was all cleaned up as if by magic!! What a good dog. YECH!!!!!!!!! {gag}

 

My boss is a redhead with very fair skin. He has had several suspicious things burned off and cut off his face, hands, and other places where his skin gets lots of sun exposure. He used to be a tennis coach so he was in the sun a lot. The past two weeks I've asked him as he went out at noon to play tennis, "Did you put on your sunscreen?" He forgot. Same story today. Then, at 3:00 he leaves for a dermatologist appointment. I tell him, "I'm gonna call your dermatologist and tell her you're not using your sunscreen when you play tennis in the middle of the day." He laughed but he didn't believe me. After he left I called the derma office and told the nurse. When the doctor went into the examining room she said, "So, Tim, I hear you're not using your sunscreen when you play tennis." He said his jaw dropped to the floor! Then he sent me a very brief e-mail from his blackberry..."You're fired!" He's not getting off that easy - I'm gonna keep showing up just to aggravate him. Ha!!

 

 

We've gotten more rain from January to now than we got during the entirety of 2006. Ranchers can't bail their hay because it hasn't been sunny enough to dry it out. Tomatos are splitting open from too much water. Potatos are rotting in the ground. The onion crop is ka-put. However, lawn services are having a banner year because the damn grass grows so fast you can literally SEE it get taller. No, REALLY. Chiggers, fleas, and ticks are thicker than ever due to the mild winter and humidity, making dogs and cats (and people) miserable. The mosquitos are having to register with the FAA to schedule flight patterns because they're so huge, plus we worry about West Nile Virus from mosquitos. And probably the WORST is hair. If ya have curly hair the humidity kinks it up like crazy. If ya have straight hair there's no use trying to curl it because the humidity pulls all the curl out as soon as ya step out the front door. (Trust me...I know.) So, I've given up and it's strictly braids and ponytails for me. We've had flooding where we've never had it before. Lives have been lost. It's weird.

 

I went to Dallas and babysat my nephew's baby girl last weekend. My nephew had hernia surgery. He did great and is just fine. I don't think he was worried a lick about it until the doc told him there was a 1 in 1000 chance that he could lose a testicle if there was an error in the surgery. Of course, being quite the irreverant family, we teased him unmercifully about losin' a nut. His answer to us was, "Ya know, I've thought about it and I know that God took Dale [Earnhardt] because he needed a really good racecar driver in heaven. So, if I lose my testicle, I'm sure it's because God needs a really good testicle for someone else." So, of course, we starting planning on the decals we could put on the backs of our cars with Joe's testicle with angel wings. A picture of Joe's testicle with the words "in memoriam..." Joe's testicle along with "we'll never forget." This probably isn't funny to anyone who isn't a or knows a redneck. In my neck of the woods there are LOTS of NASCAR fans and I think they all have a Dale Earnhardt decal on their vehicles. Which is, of course, very nice for the Earnhardt family and whomever is gettin' the profit from sellin' those decals. My nephew also said that he needed me to take care of the baby because he would need his wife's help in the bathroom as he isn't supposed to lift anything over 15 pounds for several weeks. Pffft. Dream on, nephew, dream on...

 

This nephew is the same one who got whacked on the head by a tree limb when he was a teenager. We now have "Glad You're Here Day" every year to celebrate the fact that he wasn't killed by the tree. He was very seriously injured - no joke. Anyway, I told him last weekend that I REFUSE to have "Glad Your Hernia's Gone Day." I think he was disappointed. He loves theme days.

 

A lady called the office today wanting a refund for her kid's football camp registration because she forgot about camp so the kid didn't get to go. What a dumbass. She said we shoulda sent her a reminder. At first I didn't realize that my boss was standing right behind me but when he realized the gist of my conversation he got interested so he stayed right there and listened in. Ugh. I was gonna do the "hang up in the middle of a word and then play like I was disconnected" trick but couldn't with him there. This woman absolutely refused to take responsibility for the fact that she is an idiot and forgot the camp. I denied her request for a refund but made arrangements for her son to meet with the football coach and get his camp t-shirt. She was sorta happy. My boss said I deserve combat pay for some of the calls I deal with.

 

Our football coach is one of those guys that, no matter what you say to him, has a related story. It's tiring because he takes himself off-topic all the time. Anyway, today when I called to tell him about the camp kid he starts telling me a story about a girl he dated with the same name as the kid's mom. I just got quiet and when he finished I didn't say anything for a minute. He said, "Are you there?" Me, "Yeah. I was just waiting for you to finish that story that I don't care a thing about." Him, "But I was telling you about a girl named Lorena." Me, "I know, and I don't care." He just cracked up. Poor guy never knows whether to shit or go blind when I hit him with stuff like that. Then he calls me "honey." He's not flirting; he calls all females honey. The other day I said, "Do you realize I'm 50 years old?" He said he didn't realize it. I'm sure the gray hair and wrinkles don't give a thing away about my age. I said, "I didn't think you did. Surely you wouldn't call me honey if you knew I was 50." So now he calls me honey to aggravate, which I'm totally cool with and respect. Ha!!

 

Okay, we're hiring a new coach and his last name is Cucci, pronounced Koochi. Now, I don't know what y'all call it where you are but around here the slang term for the female anatomy is koochi. As I've said many times before, I struggle not to giggle everytime someone says the word "balls" which is a hazard in an athletic department. We talk about "balls" all the damn time. Well, now I'll also giggle everytime we talk about Cucci. I'm sure I'm being tested.

 

It's bedtime or past so I guess I better hit the hay. I struggle so to get outta bed in the morning. Ugh. I'd probably agree to a catheter if it meant I could lay in bed longer in the morning. Once I get up I'm okay but I can waller (wallow) in the bed for hours in the morning putting off the inevitable. Gag. Getting to sleep will be even more of a challenge tonight as Timber (the dog) has baaaaad gas. If he's not careful I'll start firing back. Ha!!

 

G'night.

Yesterday was Juneteenth. Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation officially freeing all slaves in 1863. Welllll, we kinda forgot to tell the slaves in Texas until, oh, June 19, 1865... OOOPS!!! Well, my gosh, it's not like CNN was following ol' Honest Abe around and then reporting back on the Texans' laptops. I guess that whoever was in charge of getting that message all the way to Texas was riding a verrrrry slow horse, or maybe even walking. Who knows? Actually, there weren't many slaves in Texas. Most of the settlers who came to Texas weren't wealthy enough to have slaves. The guys who had big ranches were rich but slaves didn't work cattle like cowboys or vaqueros. We had soldiers in the Civil War but there was only one teeny-tiny skirmish in Texas. We had other fish to fry back then. So, anyway, we now celebrate Emancipation on June 19 (Juneteenth). Seems like the parades and celebrations get smaller every year. I don't even know if they had an official parade in Dallas or Houston. If they did I didn't hear of it. I can just imagine how it was on 6/19/1865...

 

Union soldier riding into Texas, sees a slave, says, "Hey, how's that freedom stuff workin' for ya?"

Slave, not knowing he's free says, "Nahsir, Massa ain't freed none o' us. We's slaves."

Union soldier, "What? All the other slaves have been free for TWO YEARS."

Now former slave, "Freed two years ago? 'Scuse me, Soldier, I'm fiddin' to go kills my Massa."

 

And the Texas slave owner (Massa) running out to the Union soldier says, "Doh!! SSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

 

Excuse the ebonicy nature of that. I was going by how the slaves talked in Roots. I don't know about all that. I'll just be glad when they start letting women VOTE in Texas. hahahhaha...

 

For those who have wondered, I don't live anywhere near where homes were flooded and people were killed. That was clean over t' the other side of Fort Worth and I'm in East Texas. We had some farm-to-market roads wash out but that was all. The ground here is so saturated that we have to watch for flash floods everytime it rains a little bit. The lakes are a foot and more higher than what is considered full. Everything's nice and green, though, and probably will be well into August. Usually it's starting to get a little brown around the edges by this time of year.

 

I went to a friend's house yesterday evenin' and picked blackberries. Gosh, I haven't picked berries in a hunnerd years! It was great, though, because she had thornless vines! How do they DO that??? Anyway, there's a blackberry cobbler in my niece's future as she loves 'em. When my nephew was a baby (two years old) my brother and his family had a wild berry patch next to their house. When I arrived at their house for a visit I saw my brother in the chicken yard and my baby nephew in the middle of the berry patch wearing tenny-shoes and a diaper. His hands, chin, and belly were covered in purple berry juice. That kid stayed stained up all summer because they couldn't keep him outta the berry patch. I guess we're lucky he didn't get snake-bit but he sure was cute pickin' berries right off the vine and poppin' 'em in his mouth. He's 24 now and still cute as a button. Ha!!

 

A friend just called to tell me her mother died this morning. Yech. Been there, done that. The siblings are all feuding over the funeral arrangements, possessions, etc. I hate that for everyone involved. I'm thankful everyday that my brother and sister and I were together on everything when my folks died. That's one good thing about not having money and property when ya die, I guess. Being a near-pauper doesn't leave a lot to fight over! Ha. Also, my brother and sister deferred to me on a lot of the funeral arrangements because I would actually talk to my folks about what they wanted, how they wanted their burials, etc. My brother and sister always cringed and didn't want to talk about the folks' passing.  I would tell my parents that they could tell me over and over what they wanted but that we would probably put them in trash bags and throw 'em in the dump so we wouldn't have to spend our inheritance on a funeral. Then they would ask me to at least buy the heavy-duty trashbags but I would tell them generic only. Ha!! If you can't laugh about stuff ya get all bogged down in the very real seriousness and sadness of the matter.

 

Wow. It only took me a sentence and a half to go from my friend's loss to my own. That may be a record! How caring of me...

 

Y'all have a great day. Since I'm at work (shh!!) I guess I should at least put the mail up and pretend to do some school business. Later...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The thing with Jill, the rainbow, etc? Over! Jill and I have not had angry words for each other but have apologized to each other for any misunderstanding over our comments. However, I understand that she has messaged some of my friends to defend herself and perhaps things have gotten a little testy in some cases. I won't presume to tell anyone how to handle something but here's what I am planning to do... I plan on ignoring any future comments from or about Jill so that this unpleasantness can die a natural death. That said, I would like to thank my friends who stood by me and supported me in what I perceived to be an injustice. Thank y'all very much. And now I'm done with all this.

 

This has been an awesome Sunday. It was rainy which made it perfect for reading, sewing, napping, staring aimlessly out the window, and being totally useless. I daydreamed about a coupla other things a rainy Sunday afternoon would have been good for but I forced myself back to reality. Of course I meant watching Dallas Cowboy football! Where was YOUR mind? hahahahhaha.....

 

I went to the Farmer's Market again yesterday and stocked up on fresh veggies. mmmmmm... Today I had fresh sweet corn on the cob. I bought some bell peppers, new potatoes, squash, green beans, and the most beautiful purple eggplant. Eggplant is not on my fave veggie list but these were so pretty that I couldn't resist. I'll probably have eggplant parmigian (sp) tomorrow. You know that powdery "parmesan" cheese we have in the green can? My friend's mom mispronounced it as "par-mee-zhian" so now my family and I call parmigian (sp) cheese "parmeezhian." It makes our Italian recipes sound very exotic. Ha!

 

Gee, I so look forward to the beginning of the work week tomorrow...NOT. It's supposed to rain nearly all week. Yesterday, while running errands, I made use of a big-ass golf umbrella I had in the truck. I don't know why I bother with the umbrella. I cover myself to stay outta the rain, to stay dry, but then when I get in the truck and fold the umbrella up I drag it right across myself to put it away. I get soaked! There's gotta be a better way...

 

Y'all have a good week...

 

 

I'm a little bit pissy. I'm so sick of everybody and their dog having an agenda that they want to push on the rest of us, or judge us by, or whatever. It's been bugging me for a long time but Jill's post on my "rainbow" blog was the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm not angry at Jill - she was very polite (although I'm irked that Jill chose not to leave an address). It's the principle of the thing. I wrote what I thought was a hokey, innocuous little blog about sentimental feelings regarding a damn rainbow. Then I get criticized because somebody might take one of my comments as a prejudice. It wasn't meant that way, but dammit, so what if it was? If you don't agree with what's on this blog or you don't understand it or it offends you, then take that little ol' mouse and click your ass off the page! This isn't a political space. It's for my personal thoughts. They're random, not always totally thought out or clear, but at the moment I was typing those were the thoughts that skimmed through my brain. I like going to different spaces to read other opinions and learn a little about what makes other people tick. How boring would I be if I only went to spaces that were exactly like mine with exactly the same opinions? Now, in the course of hopping around spaces, I have come across some spaces that were either boring or offensive and I don't go back to those. I urge everyone to do the same...or not...your call.

 

We're never all gonna agree on everything. There's always gonna be prejudice against something or somebody. One time I posted a movie review about "CRASH" on a website. I had walked out of the theater when I first went to see this movie because it was upsetting. It was filled with anger and prejudice. And those were my comments. One girl from NYC tried to make it a "Southern thang" and felt sure I was racially prejudiced because I live in Texas. We traded comments back and forth and I finally pointed out that while she prided herself on being so open and free of racial prejudice, she still had a strong prejudice against my entire region of the United States. I asked what the difference was - what made one prejudice okay and the other not? I never heard from her again. Being from the South doesn't automatically make a person racially prejudiced. We don't all live in trailer houses and belong to the KKK. I live in a real house and the only time in my life I had a sheet over my head was at Halloween when I was dressed as a ghost. I was seven.

 

The craziest example of "agenda-ism" was when the Southern Baptists tried to boycott Disney for promoting homosexuality. They claimed that the homosexuality was evident in The Little Mermaid by one of the characters getting sexually aroused. Okay, I was curious, so I watched The Little Mermaid. I watched the scene in question several times and I've yet to see the cartoon hard-on. Then I think - whose mind is so nasty that they see sexual things in a Disney cartoon? I guess it's the same type of person who plays an album backwards to hear satanic things. Who the hell plays an album backwards? Craziness.

 

Now agendas are everywhere. Media, politicians, religious leaders, gay-lesbian groups, on and on, all have their agendas and all are so defensive about them. I know it's aggravating for someone whose choices are outside the social norms but, as a realist, I know that anyone different from "the pack" will be picked on in some way. If you don't believe me, be fat in a room full of skinnies, or vice versa. Be black in a room full of whites. Be white in a room full of blacks. Etc, etc, etc. I guarantee you'll either be ignored or pointed at - you'll be uncomfortable in some way. I went to a funeral of a friend's father. The friend happened to be black. The funeral home conducting the service was owned and operated by blacks. When I walked into the church I saw another friend (also black) and naturally went to sit by her. The funeral director came and asked me to move to the front row. I'm thinking the front rows are reserved for family, right? And I'm fairly obviously not family. I told the man that I was fine where I was but he insisted that "our white friends sit at the front of the church." Y'all, this wasn't but about five years ago. I was uncomfortable. I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. I felt like I was still on the plantation and they put Massa on the front row. It was weird. I'm sure when that tradition was started it was to make the "white friends" feel important (like riding in the front of the bus) but I knew that wasn't really the case. I felt years and years of frustration and prejudice boring into my back from dozens of brown eyes. At the end of the funeral when the preacher called for volunteers to carry out the flowers I marched my lilly-white ass to the casket and respectfully carried out a potted plant. I smiled politely at the funeral director as I handed him the plant to be transported to the cemetery. I've never seen a stronger example of sarcasm than when I was moved to the front row of that church.

 

So now you know my agenda. My agenda is to have this blog where I can post whatever I want. Remember that old bumper sticker that was hugely popular in the 70's? AMERICA - LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT. Well, here's mine...MY SPACE - TOLERATE IT OR LEAVE IT.

 

 

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T APPRECIATE HOKEY, SENTIMENTAL CRAP.....

 

 

I can't believe I forgot to blog about my rainbow. I love rainbows. Just like I love big boxes of brand new crayons. To see alllll those pretty colors lined up beside each other makes me happy inside. Rainbows are awesome because they usually come after a rain shower. Besides the pretty colors they always make me feel so hopeful. Not that I go around feeling hope-less, there's just something so renewing about the rainbow. [It pisses me off that the rainbow is used by Jesse Jackson and lesbians. I don't want my rainbow to be associated with anything except stuff I want it to be associated with, preferably not one damn thing that can be interpreted as negative by anyone or anything.] One time I was driving to Dallas to see CeeCee when she was brand new and so fragile. I was praying for CeeCee's health and allofasudden a rainbow appeared in the sky over Dallas. No matter which way the road curved or where the sun was, that little rainbow stayed visible. I, of course, took it as a sign that CeeCee would be fine and as things have turned out - it was. WELL, last Saturday I was driving home in another dad-gum thunderstorm (we've had record high rains this year). There were rainclouds to the east and sunshine to the west where the sun was beginning to set. One of the biggest rainbows I've ever seen appeared in the sky and it was AWESOME. I marveled at it for miles. When I got into town the rain being kicked up by cars as they moved along the wet highway all became mini-rainbows following behind. I'm lucky I didn't have a wreck because I got caught up watching all this and paid little attention to driving. The absolute coolest thing, though, was when it began raining again. The big rainbow in the sky blended in with the water in front of my car and made it look as if I were part of the big rainbow. I just can't describe how that felt!! I wondered if maybe I'm part Leprechaun (except that I don't have a pot-o-gold). Sometimes I just feel I'm a part of something greater than everything, and this was one of those times. Not that I am greater than everything, just that I'm a part of it. Okay, here's the hokiest most sentimental thing ever...I had family on my mind since I had been to the reunion and all, so I came to the conclusion that my pot of gold, my riches, are my family. {giggle} I know. It's pretty cheesy stuff but it's true. FYI - No, I do not believe in unicorns.

 

I've been as useless as a third tit since I got home on Saturday evenin'. My allergies are kickin' my ass. All this rain has brought a mold count that's knocking the top outta the mold-o-meter. Bleah. I went to the dentist today to have a permanent crown put on a cracked tooth. Ouch. He was gonna try to do it without deadening my mouth but it hurt too bad when they put the cold porcelain on my exposed nerve. The "I nearly came outta the chair" kinda hurt, ya know? So he's giving me a shot and I accidentally bite his thumb, which he promptly removed from between my jaw teeth. He says, "Did that hurt?" To which I replied with the needle still in my gums, "Hiii haaaaa." [Translation: Shitass. No definition needed.] He says as he removes the needle, "Did you call me a chicken?" My reply, "No, that's NOT what I called you." His assistant was trying her best not to laugh. I got the feelin' she's wanted to call him that before, too. Luckily, the dentist has a good sense of humor. He took it well when I apologized for him having to look up my crusty nose when he leaned me back in the chair. Surprisingly, I was the first to ever say such a thing. What's wrong with peoples' manners?

 

Have you ever kinda forgotten where you were and done something you normally wouldn't do? I did that today. Jermahl, my student worker (I call him Jermizzle), and I were the only ones in the whole gym this afternoon. We were both drinkin' a Coke. My Coke was a Diet Coke (with vitamins!) and his was a Mr. Pibb (because, as you know, all soft drinks in Texas are Cokes - even Dr. Peppers). I was numbly playing freecell and he was perusing Facebook when I suddenly burped like a man. I was so embarrassed. Jermizzle thought it was hilarious. I was just glad I didn't need to fart. Sheesh.

 

Y'all have a good "Hump Day" tomorrow. hahahahaha. That's gotta be one of the best nicknames ever.

 

Later...

 

 

 

Some of my Daddy's cousins decided to gather up as many of us as they could for a family reunion. Usually we only see each other at funerals so I told them they should have set up a casket just for ol' times' sake. They looked at me and then at each other as if to say "she got her MOTHER'S sick sense of humor." Which is, of course, very true. In fact, when I drove up some of the younger of the cousins met me in the driveway exclaiming how I look just like my mother. Daddy grew up in northeast Texas, Mother in the south along the Gulf Coast. Their upbringings were as different as night and day. Daddy's people were farmers; Mother's people were in the restaurant business. They spent their entire married lives with Daddy trying to rein Mother in and Mother trying to loosen Daddy up. It could get interesting on occasion.

 

Back to the reunion. Despite my quirky humor I was definitely not the weirdest of the group. I have an 86 year old cousin that was a hippy before there was such a thing. He's always been the black sheep of the group. Well, one of them anyway. His long ponytail is now scraggly and pure white. He's gotten hard of hearing so we all had to yell at him so he could hear us. He doesn't realize he's hearing impaired because his voice level has risen as his hearing capability has gone down. I come from a long line of mumblers and it was quite comical to see the mumblers gather up all their lung-strength to yell at the old guy. You could tell it took a lot out of them. Even he hollered that I look exactly like my mother. "THANKS!!!"  I yelled back.

 

My grandfather had a butt-load of siblings. I think there were 17 of them, which is why there are cousins all the way from mid-forties to late eighties. They're actually my Daddy's first cousins, my second cousins. I didn't really want to go to the reunion but I knew my Daddy would come back from the dead to haunt me. I would be able to feel his disappointment from the grave. I was glad I went, though. My brother, sister-in-law, youngest nephew and his family, and my youngest niece and her family also went. My nephew and his little boy were a hit because they're actually carrying on the family name. CeeCee was a hit, of course, because she's so fabulous.

 

Usually, at big country-style family reunions, the one thing you can count on is a lot of delicious food. I guess cooking isn't the priority for this generation. Ha! It was okay and there were a few standout dishes, but for the most part it was just so-so. However, we had a cabinet full of desserts that would knock your socks off. I couldn't think of anything to make that would transport well in the hour and a half drive, so I just made homemade salsa and took tortilla chips to serve with it. For my contribution to dessert I made old-fashioned teacakes using my grandmother's recipe. My she-cousins thought that was a cool thing to have done. I also made some chocolate chip cookies with sticks in them for the kids. They ended up as the post-game treat for some of the next generation's little league baseball team.

 

After the reunion my brother and I drove another 10 miles to the cemetery where my Daddy's parents are buried. My youngest nephew is named after my paternal grandfather and that was the first time he had ever been to his gravesite. I was kinda surprised at his reaction. He's not a sentimental person and is usually a smart-ass, but he stared quietly at the headstone for a coupla minutes. He appeared to be a bit reflective over the whole experience. It's one thing hearing that you're named after somebody that was dead way before you were born, but to actually see it carved in stone is another thing. Three of my five grandparents died when I was a year old so I never knew them, but I still get choked up when I visit their graves. I miss not knowing them. I'm absolutely positive that I would have been their all-time favorite grandchild.

 

I think we're gonna shoot for another reunion in two years. Every two years is good - I can handle that. I'm gonna try to get some more of my immediate cousins to go, too. That would be fun. We could have a mini-reunion amongst the larger reunion.

 

Later...

Poor little ol' Paris Hilton has a medical problem that got her outta jail and back into her brazilian dollar apartment in only three short days. I know what that condition is, although God knows, I've never suffered from it myself. It's called "rich-spoiled-ass-syndrome." Then some lawyer type from Miami was on the Today show this morning talking about how she has gotten rougher treatment because of her celebrity. OH MY ACHING BUTT! That argument might fly a little better if she hadn't done all her shenanigans in the national media spotlight. I mean, who hasn't seen Paris' koochie at this point? We've seen her falling-down drunk, driving while her license was suspended, naked as a jay-bird, blah blah blah. You ever see that sex tape? That was the least horny sex video I've ever seen (nervous giggle - not that I watch that sort of thing very often - clearing throat). The girl was much more aware of the video camera than she was the aroused guy trying his best to hold her still for just a minute. Bleah. The best punishment a judge could give little ol' Paris would be to restrict her public exposure (excuse the pun in this case) and he would be doing the rest of us a HUGE favor.

 

Dear Media:  Keep me posted on really important celebrity goings-on, but please shut the f*ck up about every frazzlin' detail of their lives. Love, MizAngie.  The media justifies their constant reporting on Paris, Rosie, Brangelina, TomKat, etc, by saying they report what the public wants to see. I wish I could set them straight on that. We watch it and read it because that's what's on tv constantly or printed on every magazine cover. I guess, though, that it's less upsetting to read about Angelina Jolie's latest adoption than to read things about, say, Americans being killed in Iraq. (Especially in the crapper.) 

 

Okay, now to the oil companies. Gas prices went through the roof again during the two weeks before Memorial Day, one of the holidays with the most travel during the summer. Oil companies said it was strictly an issue of "supply and demand." I give 'em that we use a lot of gasoline over the holiday, and I comprehend that might make the supply go down. But shouldn't the prices go up AFTER we use a bunch of gasoline instead of BEFORE? Couldn't they wait to raise prices to see if the demand actually DID deplete the supply? I just can't get the visual outta my head of a bunch of rich oil company execs in the Board room laughing their asses off at the reallllly pitiful explanations they're giving us for the price of gas to be so high. The whole thing is that they want the oil that's in the Alaskan wilderness that's currently protected for the wildlife living there. I've heard several interviews with oil execs and politicians that just kinda give a big sigh and say, "welllll, gas would be cheap and plentiful if we could jussssst drillllll in Allllllasssssska." We're being used and manipulated and it absolutely chaps my ass. Especially in December when they all announce their kajillion dollar bonuses. F*ckers.

 

Let's talk about people who fight dogs. "A righteous man has regard for the life of his beast." -Proverbs 12:10   In my opinion, the same mentality that allowed man's inhumanity against man is the same mentality that allows man's inhumanity against animals. (Remember slavery in America? Been watching the news outta Darfur?) I understand killing animals for consumption. I don't understand the cruelty involved with deliberately hurting animals or encouraging them to hurt each other. I know dogs will fight, I know it's natural to establish dominance, etc. But that's different than training dogs to be mean and then pitting them deliberately against each other for "sport." It's not just dog fighting. It's also the hog-dog trials and how bird hunters will kill their bird dog if it doesn't pick up dead birds correctly. Lately there's been a rash of animal seizures in my area. Starving horses, cattle, dogs, cats, etc. Some because of the previous years' drought, some because of poverty, but some because of pure-d ol' meanness and cruelty. I want the people who are cruel to have the same thing done to them that they did to the animals. I believe in this for people, too.

 

It's Friday. I adore Friday. I get off work at 1:00 pm on Fridays in the summertime. It's great. This does make me wanna scream - for joy! I hope all of you have a lovely weekend...

Well, I'm in hog-heaven. Sorta. My son and two of my grandbabies are visiting this week. They're attending pee-wee basketball camp at my school. Too cute! Their ages are 7 and almost 4 but they look older because they're so tall. I'm thinking "post players!" Or rather, I'm praying "post players" because they're harder to come by and make more money in the NBA. Hahahaha!! Okay, okay, I would settle for them being doctors or investment bankers but it wouldn't be as much fun watching them work.

 

I don't think there was much question but if there was I can now verify for all that YES I am an old maid verrrrry set in my ways. What's sad, though, is that I've made my dog the same way. He's now an old maid dog set in his old maid dog ways. I don't realize what a  routine I'm in until somebody comes to visit. I start getting a nervous tic around 7:00 pm when I have to watch cartoons instead of All My Children on Soapnet. Ha!! I have to have supper ready at a decent hour instead of scrounging up a bowl of cereal at 9:00 or something. Timber hasn't eaten well all week because he's in a tizzy everytime the kids are around. Their yelling and screeching (you know how rowdy kids are) drives Timber bonkers. They'll be leaving tomorrow after camp and then Timber and I can be old maids again. Of course, then I'll miss the kids. I'm never happy. Ha!!

 

When I'm home alone I use maybe a glass, a bowl or plate, a fork or spoon, and maybe a pan or skillet everyday. It takes me a week to fill the dishwasher, or 5 minutes to wash them in the sink. THIS week with more cooking for more people the dirty dish total has risen exponentially. So last night I load the thing and try to turn it on and....nuttin'. The damn thing won't come on. It looks like it's been pushed outta level and the lock is not catching. Looks like I'll be unloading the dishes into a sink full of hot, soapy water tonight. Rah. The repairman can't come until Friday. Hopefully the thing can be revived. It's paper plates for the next coupla days, though!

 

Just so you'll know I'm not sitting around counting the minutes til my grandkids leave, I just gotta tell ya... There's absolutely NOTHING as sweet as a little voice saying "I yuv you Grandma." Wow. The little devils that are screeching and squealing will stop by my chair for a hug and I melt. I think these moments, these visits, are what make life special. It's "comfortable" being home alone and not having to share stuff, but only because I know these little guys and the rest of my friends and family are in my world. I kinda like being alone but nobody likes being lonely, and I'm not because I know I have people who love me. It's awesome.

 

CeeCee Update:  I kept Miss Priss last Friday and it was much fun. She's a funny baby. She had an appointment with the developmental specialist. They test her to make sure she's keeping up or catching up with her development. Well, gestationally she's 7ish months, chronologically she's about 8.5 months. She blew the top off the developmental charts by testing out close to 10 months! Oh, yeah!!! She's less than 13 lbs but she's pulling up, crawling, and beginning to talk. I continue to marvel over my little miracle. And yes, I'm definitely her 3rd fave after her parents. My sister-in-law will argue that, but CeeCee and I know...