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9月27日 Ooops!No, I don't like T.O. but I don't want him DEAD for crying out loud!! I know I'm a heifer and a half but as soon as I heard the news this morning I thought to myself, "Hmmph. Publicity stunt. He knows he's pushed the fans about as far as he can and now he's done this for sympathy and attention." I was glad when he changed his tune this afternoon because I would have had a major guilty conscience if he really did have serious mental issues instead of just being a good old-fashioned asshole. As it is I felt a bit o' glee when my office pals said, "Well, you called it!" Yeah, baby.
Cee-Cee is still doing great. She's up to 2 lbs 5 oz! She raises hell when things aren't going her way. Can you imagine when she hits about 14 what a pill she's gonna be? One of her sensors didn't read correctly today and the incubator bed heated her up to 99.? degrees. The little dickens kicks and moves around so much she unhooks things. We weren't thrilled with that. Hello - can you watch my baby a little closer since you know she moves around a lot? Plus, she has most likely inherited my hot blood.
I've noticed something funny. Everytime I talk to people about my new preemie niece they can usually match me with a tiny baby story.
Lady at the baby stuff store: (This lady was 75 if she was a day.) "My daughter weighed two lbs when she was born and that was sixty years ago. So see? They DO live." [This said during the time when I was struggling not to think of preemie mortality rates!]
Lady at the embroidery shop: (I took some preemie shirts to be embroidered with cutesy stuff.) "My son only weighed four lbs. I had to dress him in Cabbage Patch doll clothes because I couldn't find clothes tiny enough."
My dog sitter: "I weighed 1 lb 8 oz when I was born. I was in the hospital for nearly four months."
Friend at work: "My sister had TWINS that weighed a little over three pounds each."
Now, when I talk to people, I immediately want to go into my Thumbelina shpiel. "Yes, I have a MICRO-preemie niece who is so small that we use the smallest bandaids for diapers. She doesn't have a crib - we have her in a matchbox. She licks nectar from a hummingbird feeder hanging over her matchbox because we can't find a bottle small enough for her little mouth. We make gowns for her out of flower petals. Her hands are too small to grasp our fingers so we have to hand her a single strand of hair to hold in her tiny fingers. We bathe her in a thimble." Top THAT.
It's September 27th and a kid came and asked for a textbook today. My ass was so chapped. I didn't want to get it for the kid but my boss made me - he didn't want to set the kid up for failure. Well, DUH. Not having the book for the first 6 weeks of class MIGHT contribute to the kid not making a passing grade in this class. Then, to top it off, I find out he's been blaming ME for not having the book and saying I didn't give it to him. GRRRRRRRR.......
My cousin will be in Dallas this weekend and we are gonna try to meet up somewhere for lunch or dinner. I had to tell her that I am directionally challenged in the city. I'm used to directions such as "go down this road til you see a smashed up mailbox, then turn right and follow the road til the pavement ends, then it'll be the fifth house down the dirt road and there'll be about ten chicken pens in the front yard." Once you get me in the city with everybody driving so damn fast and me trying to read signs and stuff, I get lost as a goose. My niece or somebody has to keep their phone with them until I get to the house as I don't know my ass from a hole in the ground in the city. I've been up there so much lately that I am becoming more comfortable. Hell, I even got a Toll Tag.
Okay, I've been saving this for last. Did you hear T.O.'s "publicist" at their press conference today? She said something along the lines of "blah blah blah, a man of Terrell's STATUE blah blah blah." Something tells me she might be a "publicist with benefits" since a publicist usually has a better vocabulary. Bless her heart. [Translation: When a southern woman disses a woman and then says "bless her heart" that phrase translates into something along the lines of "bitch must be a dumbass."] Gee, maybe if Terrell does really well in Dallas they'll put a STATURE of him in front of the stadium..... 9月26日 Bleah.....I'm at home today feelin' blah. Sometimes I just need to step back, take a deep breath, and re-group. Luckily I've accumulated enough sick days and vacation to be able to indulge myself with a "mental health day" every now and then.
For about a month now I've been stressing about needing to change my air conditioner filter. My house is old and I added central heat and air a few years ago so the air intake duct is in the hall ceiling. To change the filter I have to get on the top rung of a 3-rung stepladder because I'm so short. This makes me very nervous. I have visions of the stool breaking, me falling off and injuring myself, not being able to get to my phone, and then being found later (many days later) in a pool of my own dried blood dead as a doornail. Death would have been my only way out of the pain of my fall. [Pretty dramatic, eh? That's how I roll.] Well, I knew that for the sake of my a/c I reallllly needed to change that filter. Last Sunday morning the damn filter woke me up around 7:30 a.m. calling out to me "change me, change me." I knew I didn't want to be on the top of that stepladder so I got the foot-high stepstool, the broom, and a pair of bbq tongs and, with maneuvers that rivaled those of the astronauts at the space station, I changed that filter. I don't think I could survive without tongs. I use them for reaching stuff in the upper cabinets of the kitchen, putting things up in the upper cabinets, reaching things that have been pushed to the very back of cabinets, now changing the a/c filter, and for turning or stirring food on the grill/stove. So, if I ever lose one or both hands in a freak accident, I plan on asking for tong attachments to take the place of my hands.
The guys at work have decided that, when I retire, they need to have a "roast" so they can all get their parting shots in on me. BAD idea as far as I'm concerned. They've changed the venue a few times from the office to the gym and now to the football stadium as they feel there will be many who want a shot at me. Great. The football stadium holds 12,500 people. In a conversation with the men's basketball coach yesterday, I told him that they might maintain contact with me for a week or so, a month at the most, and then they will have moved on. He asked if I really thought they were all that shallow, to which I replied yes. He laughed and then agreed that my statement was probably about right. I don't necessarily mean this in a bad way. I know they all like me, but I also know that once I am not in a position to help them at work or provide information they need, my purpose for them contacting me now will be gone. People in athletics tend to be single-minded (for their own sport/athletes) and narcissistic. I think it's very natural that people create their own "ruts" and tend to deal with those who support the efforts of their ruts. The trick for me is to create a new rut for myself that will give me purpose and fulfillment. I know that most of my activities post-retirement will be family-oriented. I have several friends but the people I enjoy the most are my nieces and nephews and siblings.
The weather is absolutely awesome right now. 80-degree temps, slight breeze, sunshine, very little humidity. I think I'll go to the backyard and hang out with Timber for awhile.
Take care!
9月22日 Bear with me...I've been to Dallas to see my baby Cee-Cee. Wow. I'm wrung out. I don't see how my niece and her husband deal with the constant worry and emotion. I can come home away from the intensity, but they can't. I assure you, tho, that there's no such thing as "out of sight out of mind." The baby is on my mind constantly. Prayers have become so constant they're like a mantra. I'm almost afraid to get too excited about good news because it's such an emotional roller coaster when we're given negative news, even when it's a small thing (which, thank God, they've all been). On the other hand, my emotions can't help but go through the roof with happiness with every progressive step she makes. No matter what the news, good or not-so-good, I cry. I bet I've cried more in the last week than I have in years. Update for today? She's "awesome times infinity." She's gained several grams of weight, she's off the i.v., no more jaundice, and I'm already her favorite great-aunt. Was there ever any doubt? Pfft.
In the NICU pod across from Cee-Cee is a little boy also born at 32 weeks. He's twice Cee-Cee's size but he has some dificulties. The families keep up with each other's progress. We've thrown a little good-natured rivalry into the NICU as the boy baby's folks are Longhorn fans, we're definitely Aggie fans. If we don't stop taking logo stuff to the NICU there's not gonna be enough room for the medical equipment. Ha! We start 'em off early in Texas...
I've spent a lot of time in the NICU waiting room as only two at a time can visit the baby for a short period of time. Her parents can stay with her much longer. Anyway, I've read the magazines so I picked up a journal looking book labeled "NICU Prayer Book." BIG MISTAKE!! I read the notes, thoughts, and prayers that family members of NICU babies had written over the past several months. Holy moly. The book was heavy with worry and pain......and hope.
I've been thinking of something for awhile but I finally told my sister-in-law exactly what she has become over the years. Ha! She looked at me sideways and cautiously asked what that might be. "Well," I said, "You've become the matriarch of the family." She said, "Yes...yes, I have." She knew I meant it as a loving compliment. My mother would be proud of her. She organizes the family gatherings, she's who everyone reports to so where we all go for family news, and you can almost hear her clucking like a mama hen when she's in a room with her children/grandchildren. She never runs out of love. Each one of her children and grandchildren has a special place in her heart. She can't love on 'em enough and is always leaning on, patting, hugging, or just touching her babies. We've had our issues over the years (she's been with my brother as girlfriend or wife since I was 7 years old), but nowadays I enjoy her company and love her very much. I hope she doesn't read this as it'll go straight to her head. Ha!!
Baby Cee-Cee has made me so aware of family. I think I had taken my love for them for granted. Or maybe my emotions are just running so high that it has put a magnifier on everything. I've always thought my nieces and nephews were the nearest thing to perfect but now I think of them and immediately my chest gets tight and my eyes well up. I thought my brother and sister-in-law couldn't improve on the family mix and then they adopted another nephew for me - bonus! Then my sister adopted a coupla kids - more bonus!! Then the nieces and nephews started having babies - and my son has had babies - MORE bonuses!!!! My heart is so full that it has to spill out as tears so I won't explode.
I know my last few blogs have been mushy and a little corny but I can't help it. You'll just have to bear with me....
9月19日 UpdateBaby Cecile is doing GREAT!! The nurses say she is "feisty." How can 2 lbs 2 oz be feisty? Ha! My niece went home today and that was a very difficult thing to do when the baby has to stay in the hospital a few more weeks. The weirdest thing is that the doctors and nurses still refer to the baby as if she hasn't been born. That is to say that, instead of saying she's four days old, they still use her gestational age. To them she's just now 33 weeks.
The other day as I got the daily update on the baby, I was told she was sucking on a pacifier. I asked when they would let her try to nurse from a bottle, or mom, or whatever. I was told that they won't attempt that until somewhere around 34-35 weeks when they felt she could suck, swallow, and breathe at the same time. I looked at my nephew (not the baby's dad) and whispered, "Oh, good. I DO have things I can teach the baby." Ha!! He immediately told me I'm a sick bitch but he laughed.
Timber is going visiting this weekend while I go to Dallas. He will be spending a couple of days with Genny, his former lover. He'll have a blast and I won't have to worry about him. Genny's people have six kids so there's always petting to be had and playing to be done. I hope he'll want to come home on Sunday!!
Thank God they found the kidnapped baby in Missouri. I hope she's okay.
This past weekend was a so-so football weekend, wasn't it? My college (where I work) got beat by the worst team in the conference, my Fightin' Texas Aggies were less than spectacular even though they won, and the Cowboys were so-so. When I first heard T.O. went to the locker room for x-rays I thought it was fake. After all, he was having a crappy day. Then, when I found out he really broke his finger, I had to chew my lips to keep from grinning. That's horrible, I know, but I do NOT like him. It's downright sacreligious to see his ass on the turf at Texas Stadium after his desecration of it when he was a 49er. Ugh! Y'all have no idea how badly I want the whole T.O. thing to blow up in Jerry Jones' face. They deserve each other.
Well, I hope y'all are having a good week. Tomorrow is HUMP-day. (tee-hee) 9月15日 What a Week!I began this week with the thousands of people effected by 9/11 heavy on my mind and my heart. I'm finishing the week with my attention solely on the progress of a 2 lb 2 oz baby girl born this afternoon.
My niece suffered complications with her pregnancy and the doctors were forced to deliver my new great-niece this afternoon at 32.5 weeks. I've never seen anything so amazing and so scary in my entire life. As I said, the baby is slightly over two pounds, almost 15 inches long. When my niece's husband took me to N.I.C.U. to see her I'm not sure what I expected to see. I kinda had visions of the not fully formed fetus pictures I used to see in biology textbooks. What I saw was a perfectly formed little girl just in miniature size. Perfect little lips, fingers, toes, nose, etc, but about the size of an adult squirrel. I stared at her and saw all the mysteries of the world right there, and all the answers of the universe, too. I was frozen in time with that tiny, tiny girl. I have other nieces and nephews, I've been thrilled to the gills with every one of them, but I was not prepared for the unique "miracleness" of this new niece. I won't love her any more than any of the other kids, but she will definitely always be special. A general prediction is about a month in the hospital for the baby. A long, long month.
I agonized over whether to come back home today (I live about two hours from my niece) but finally decided it would be best to come home and go back later when the new has worn off a little and there aren't so many visitors. My niece needs to rest so her blood pressure will go back down and right now has many caring family members with her (spouse, inlaws, parents, & siblings). I made everyone there promise to call if anything happens so I can jump in the truck and get right back up there. I don't know why I feel like my presence helps; maybe it just helps me. Yet, great-aunts are usually considered "fringe relatives." I, however, am the BEST aunt in the entire world. No brag, just fact.
Poor Timber sure took a back seat today. I usually hem-haw around when I am asked to go somewhere saying I can't leave the dog unattended blah blah blah. Today I threw a house key in the bbq pit, called a friend and told him where it was and to check on the dog, and drove out of town like a bat outta hell. With no guilt. My friend is awesome. His only response was, "Don't worry about Timber, we'll take care of him." And I knew I wouldn't have to.
Know what one of the things is my niece is worrying about? Football on Sunday. She has a Fantasy team and the hospital doesn't have NFL Ticket. Ha!! Her obstetrician told her to bring her laptop so she could follow the games online. Crazy child!! My nephew has already asked if his sister minds if they go to her house to watch the games on the giant television even tho she and her husband will be at the hospital. They talk about the Fantasy league like it's a reality series. They form alliances, they block other people from getting players - it's so funny. I personally don't like the Fantasy leagues because I'm the type that's loyal to one team and one team ONLY. I don't want any player on any team but the Cowboys to have a good game. This is a weird year, however, because I sure would like to see T.O. fall on his face, even if it means a rotten season for my Boyz. It's irrational, I know, but I can't help it.
Have a great weekend, y'all. Please keep my niece and great-niece in your prayers to the supreme being of your choice, and if you don't believe in a supreme being, please send positive thoughts our way. THANKS!!
9月11日 Nine-ElevenLast night, CBS played a documentary about the terrorist attack on the World Trade Centers in NYC five years ago. However, the local station decided they couldn't show the documentary during prime time because of profanity. Unbelievable. They showed the documentary after the late local news which was even later because everything was pushed back because of the US Open. I stayed up to watch and it was worth staying up to see. During the two hours of prime time when the documentary was to be shown, the local station played old Andy Griffith shows. So much for free speech. I've heard worse profanity during televised sporting events. The same people who were supposedly concerned about use of profanity by the firemen at the WTC are the same ones who have flags hanging on the fronts of their houses and claim undying and unlimited support for their country. I think their claims should be amended to "undying and unlimited support for our country unless it inconveniences us or pertains to people who do not think and act exactly like us." I think those of us who do not live in and around NYC cannot grasp the enormity of what happened on September 11, 2001. No matter how big the tv screen it can't adequately translate the reality of how large an area was involved to what we see. The thought of what happened is unreal, the reality of it is unfathomable.
It's weird to me the power of so few. A few terrorists that caused so much death, a few tight-asses that could talk the tv station into not showing a documentary to the majority who wanted to see it. Why do those who want to cause damage take such advantage of the power of a few when we who want to accomplish positive change tend to give up so easily in apathy? Makes me ashamed of myself for not being more politically active but I get so tired of hearing all the rhetoric that I tend to ignore a lot. I know a lot of people like me. I have a few friends who will argue all kinds of political points but then they don't go vote. Uh? I'm a yellow-dog democrat in a republican county/state so I never feel my vote counts, but I do vote. As long as people are going to war for my right to vote then I owe them to go exercise that right.
So, here I am in East Texas watching all the 9/11 shows on television trying to grasp what the people in NYC are going through even five years later. I have so much sympathy for them and feel sadness at their losses. I feel kinda like the virgin in a whorehouse, though, because I feel sorry for them without fully grasping what happened. Intellectually I understand the attacks - emotionally it's hard to feel the intensity of the pain of being there. I think it's important to watch the events again on television, to read about them, to hear the stories of loss, the stories of heroism. I don't think we should ever forget the people of 9/11, or WWI, or WWII, or the Korean War, or Vietnam, and Iraq and Afghanistan.
Ironic note: ABC's televised "Path to 9/11" and CBS's documentary were beat out in the ratings by "The Manning Bowl" on Sunday Night football. I guess life goes on... 9月9日 Bad Boy!!I don't know what in the cornbread hell got into Timber today but he was acting CRAZY. First, after he went outside to pee he came back in kinda rambunctious. I loved on him, gave him a treat, and then made the mistake of turning my back on him. When I looked around to see why he got so quiet I saw that it was because he was busy eating the cake that was on the stove. Luckily it was just a plain ol' cake instead of a big layered thing with lots of gooey icing. I fussed at him and he jumped down (after glomming down one last bite). Not before the cake was demolished, though. A bit later I decided I would go to the car wash to allow the really peppy cheerleaders of my college scrape the bug goo off my car and help them raise funds to go to their national competition. I thought it would be a fun outing for Timber, too, so I got out his "necklace" and put it on him. He's usually so excited to go with me that he runs from the front door to the Tracker and waits for me to open the door and let him jump in. Today he stood at the bottom of the front porch steps and checked out the landscape. Much more tempting than a car ride was the chirping squirrel in the yard two doors down. Off he went! The squirrel took off up a tree but the neighbor's cat was on its front porch so he thought he better visit him. After a slap on the nose he smelled or heard more dogs around the corner. I knew I couldn't catch him so I got in the Tracker and followed him. That bastard would not even acknowledge me. It was like he went deaf. Finally, the mail lady grabbed his collar and I snapped the leash on him. I guess I can't trust that he loves my company so much he won't leave my side. He lulled me into believing that and then today gave me up for a dad-gum squirrel. Or maybe he was on a sugar high from the cake. Whatever it was I didn't know whether to beat him to death or hug him to pieces. Since I'm not a dog-beater I just put him in the vehicle and ignored him. His life flashed before my eyes, though, in my fear that he would get in the street and get run over. Or I wouldn't be able to catch him. Or he would get in a fight with a meaner, bigger dog because Timber does not know how to fight. He's the least aggressive dog I've ever seen in my life. We got the vehicle washed by the college kids in their bathing suits. My eyes hurt by the time I got home because I kept rolling them at the stupid cheerleader behavior. The girls couldn't resist doing the Jessica Simpson/Paris Hilton move of squeezing the big soapy sponge on their chests. It was so stupid. Anyhoo, we got the bug goo off the truck and went home. I was careful to put the leash on my idiot dog because he was style hyped up. We came in, I did a few chores, we watched some football, and then we took a nap. I think he's in a low now becuase he is crashed out on the couch. The whole day has been very non-Timber-esque.
SurPRISE SurPRISE SurPRISE. The drug and weapons charges were dropped against the University of Texas football players the same week they're scheduled to play the #1 team in the nation (Ohio State). How TOTALLY unpredictable!!! Wow, even Ray Charles would have seen that coming! Speaking of Tea-sips (the nickname non-UTexas people call UTexas people), are y'all familiar with Earl Campbell? His high school named their football field after him last week and this week a statue was unveiled at the stadium in Austin in his honor. Anyway, this guy was an awesome running back. It's so sad to see him now because he can barely walk because of all the football injuries he sustained during college and the NFL. He's early fifties and looks like an old, old man. Bless his heart. When I see guys like that I wonder if the money (because the money when he played wasn't what it is today) and the notoriety were worth it.
Several years ago I went with a group of friends to a Motown concert at the Dallas Starplex. Earl Campbell's brother was in the group. The brothers look very much alike. After the concert, Tim and I were rushing toward the bathroom when I noticed that people were staring at us. I commented on it and Tim told me that people mistake him for his brother all the time. Duh - that hadn't dawned on me. He said he hates it when he's in a public restroom and people want to talk to him because they think he's someone else. So, as we reached the bathrooms and went in opposite directions, I turned to him, waved sweetly, and said, "See ya in a minute.....EARL!" Ha!!! When we met back up he [laughingly] told me I'm a bitch. It was pretty funny.
Well, I need to get back to "work." It's very stressful being on the couch with Timber, flipping channels back and forth between the football game and the Astros game. It's allll about the timing, you know. How long will this commercial be? Can I catch all of this guy's at-bat or should I flip back to see if they make the first down in the football game? Verrrry stressful. And don't EVEN let your finger slip and hit the mute button instead of the channel-switching button - that can cause absolute chaos as you have to re-set the whole flipping around system. Add in that I'm listening to the football game of the college team where I work on the radio and timing becomes even more crucial. Haha!!
Hope y'all are having a good weekend.... 9月6日 It just struck me funny...Last night I was watching our local news. They showed a human interest story about a 14-year old boy in India who is way less than two feet tall - I think they said 16-18 inches. His family is trying to get him into the Guiness World Book of Records as the smallest man in the world. He won't be eligible until he's 18 years old, though. Current record holder is 23 inches [tall?]. The camera comes back to the local anchor (a substitute while the real anchor is on vacation). He says, "Wow. They better hope that kid doesn't have a growth spurt!" That just struck me funny.
Same guy - 10 o'clock news. The Crocodile Hunter story was on. Back to substitute anchor who needs to send the audience over to the weather guy. "That Steve Irwin death is just tragic, almost as tragic as this drought. Any chances for rain in the forecast?" Dude, can ya work on those segues please???
Timber goes everywhere with me when we're in the house. As unhealthy as it is, I eat dinner while watching television. As I carry dinner to the living room, Timber walks ahead of me yet has to stay turned around to be sure I'm following him. I can't tell you how many times the dog has whacked his head against the doorframe. I feel bad for him, but DANG, you'd think he would learn since he's done it so often. You can almost see his eyes spinning around sometimes if he hits the door particularly hard.
My new baby great-niece makes grunting noises. Cute little baby grunting noises. As a result, my nephew now calls her Gruntavius. He gives most people nicknames, and then we all pick them up and use them. He calls his parents Thriller and Lynnie. My parents were The G-people (grandparents). He gets this from my brother (his dad). My brother used to call my nieces (his daughters) the Spazmoley Sisters. I don't have a nickname. Well, at least I don't have one they've shared with me. Ha!! When he's buttering up to me he calls me Auntie. My nieces have a nickname for me. They call me Aunt Sucker. When they were growing up and wanted something their parents wouldn't get them, I usually made sure they got what they wanted. (They suckered me into it.) They used to come stay with me so they could "get spoiled." It all started when they were in elementary and wanted Gloria Vanderbilt jeans or the jeans with the little horses on the pockets. The older they got the more expensive the jeans! But they always had the latest fashion fad before they went back to school, and Aunt Sucker had credit card debt. Hahahha.
I scared a little French boy today. Coach sent him to my office to do some paperwork. I was in a meeting with a different coach. This kid stands by the closed glass door looking at his watch, holding up his hands, and acting altogether impatient. Pissed.....me......off. I walked to the door and said, "Can't you see I'm in a meeting?" Antoine, "No. I don't think so." Me, "See this shut door? This is what a meeting looks like. Either wait or come back after class - I don't care - but don't stand here showing me your watch." And I slammed the door in his face. His coach came down and tried to take up for him by saying he doesn't speak English very well but I told him that looking at your watch and acting impatient to get my attention is rude in any language. The kid came back later and apologized and we got the paperwork done. Before he left I hugged him and spoke French to him (crepe, par le vous, bonjour, oui, and merci - all the French I know). We're friends now.
We have a former MLB pitcher working at my school as an assistant coach. My boss asked if I had talked to the guy about some work stuff. I looked at my boss and said, "He talks? He has a head? My eyes haven't made it that far up yet." He's a hottie. Whew. 6'5", dark skin, blonde, built like a brick shit-house. I've been told by another coach that I'm gonna have to start wearing a bib if I'm gonna drool like that everytime the guy comes by.
Guess what made the news tonight? Looks like the drought is gonna benefit the deer hunters because the lack of food and water is gonna make the "elusive white-tailed deer" come out looking for food. So I guess they're either gonna starve to death or get shot. Niiice. I could never be a deer hunter. They're so cute. Once somebody else kills them, though, I'll eat the hell outta some venison. Several of my friends say, when they go deer hunting, that they're gonna go kill Bambi. Ugh. I counter with slurs on their "hunting" ability by pointing out that they feed the little things all summer and then just shoot them when they come back to eat. Okay, in defense of their hunting - if they didn't kill some of the deer every year there would be an over-population and they really would starve to death. Sad, but true. For all you non-hunters, feel good about the fact that dove and duck hunting will not be good this year because of the drought. The ponds and small lakes have just about dried up so there's nowhere for the ducks to go. If the drought continues for several years the birds will make new routes and won't come over East Texas for a long time. Isn't that cool that they remember stuff like that?
Later, Y'all!!
9月2日 Spur of the moment...I'm not known for being a spur of the moment kinda girl. I eventually adapt to change but I'm never very happy during the process. So I don't know what in the hell got into me last Thursday. I went to the toilet after lunch on Thursday and, as I stood at the sink washing my hands, caught my reflection in the mirror. My hair, nearly to my waist, was just hanging there like a limp dishrag. I looked Pentecostal except for the lip gloss. I went back to my desk, called the hair salon, made an appointment, and by 4:00 pm I felt like a shorn sheep. The stylist did exactly as I asked so I'm not upset with her at all. I just can't imagine what made me do this! I'm already taking hair vitamins to make it grow back faster. Ha!! I donated my ponytail to "Locks of Love" so if you see a sickly little kid with gray hair and no eyebrows, they probably got my hair. I think I just didn't like my reflection and wanted to change my appearance. A haircut was the quickest way. It's not TOO bad but it feels weird. My hair is now just past my shoulders, the shortest it has been in 35+ years. Whew! Somebody even told me I look ten years younger. That's a good thing. I think I'll dye it back to it's original shit-brown and maybe I'll look another ten years younger. Shoot, I wonder if I can think of "improvements" that will take me right back to my pre-pubescent years so I can start all over. I would definitely use more sun screen if I could re-do the years. Oh, while at the salon I told the girl doing my hair not to be upset if I acted like I didn't like the haircut when she finished. I warned her that it might take me a few days to adjust to short hair. In an attempt to assuage my "fears" she asked the stylist at the next station to talk to me while she cut. Well, Elvira with her died black hair with wide blonde streaks in it, clunky costume jewelry, a tattoo on her breast that was visible due to her extremely low-cut shirt, and tight black jeans proceeded to "counsel" me which, at the very least, would be like the pot calling the kettle black. She compared me to her mom. This girl looked 30-something so I wasn't thrilled to be in the same category as her mother. Then she talked about how "we" should all try to be age-appropriate with our hairstyles and clothing, and how some haircuts makes "us" look better if we've gained a few pounds, blah blah blah. I finally said, "Hon, are you trying to tell me I'm old and fat and ought to cut my hair into a little old lady hairstyle? Because, if you are, you're not "helping" me feel better about cutting my hair." She said (with a guilty expression on her face), "Oh, NO MA'AM. I didn't mean that." I asked her how old her kids are and she told me she had a 14-year old daugher and 12-year old son. I asked how her daughter felt about her wearing the tight jeans and heavy makeup, and what she thought about her hairstyle. She disappeared. The girl that was doing my hair started giggling. She whispered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know she would say things like that to a customer, but I'm so happy you said that about her clothes!" I gathered this girl had been the subject of shop-gossip, but dang, she looked like a goth-hooker and, believe me, she was too old for that look!! What a bitch. Well, yeah, I guess I was one, too - but I was provoked! [Please note: If a Southern woman says something to you and the sentence begins with "Hon" it's probably not gonna be good.]
My Dad grew up during the depression. We used to tease him because he would wash & reuse plasticware, foam plates, and plastic cups. I found a paper towel draped over the edge of the cabinet one time because, since it hadn't fallen apart when he used it, he was letting it dry to reuse it. He saved everything and we always had a storehouse full of crap. He was always looking for something that he knew we had but couldn't find because he had so much junk in the storehouse. Ha. Everytime this happened he got the eye-roll and the impatient comments from me. Why do I tell you this? Because I, Ridiculer of My Own Father, brought home 6 giant aluminum foil pans from work because I couldn't stand to throw them away. The BBQ, etc, that we had at our staff meeting came in the pans. I chunked the leftover food but it just seemed such a waste to throw the perfectly good, barely dented pans into the trash. The pans are huge. I can't imagine why I will ever need one of them as I cook for only one (or two) people. As I carried the dirty pans to my vehicle I told myself I was stupid; as I struggled to wash the big-ass things in my sink I told myself I was stupid; everytime I see them drying on the cabinet I tell myself I was stupid to bring them home. But I'm gonna save 'em. Ya never know when ya might be sittin' around talkin' to friends and somebody comes in and asks for a big-ass aluminum pan. And when they do, by God, I'll have a passle of 'em ready to go. Further confession - this wasn't the first batch of foil pans I've "saved." I now have about ten of 'em.
I hope everyone is having a fun and relaxing Labor Day Weekend. I know this is shitty but I always get miffed because the Jerry Lewis Telethon is on, knocking my soap opera off the air on Monday. It's working for ol' Jerry, tho, because he gets a donation every year as a result of my guilty conscience for having such selfish thoughts. HELL!!
Drive safely.
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