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 |  My Blog....Pearls of wisdom and/or foolish mutterings.....You be the judge.... |
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A little of this, a dash of that......epic mood swings.......A LOT of foolish mutterings and occasionally a few words of wisdom. It's a crapshoot. You never know what you'll find in here... |
Eric Wharton  and Special Kay  both wrote very provocative blogs tonight. I like to call them The Sex Chronicles. Catchy, huh? Never wanting to be left out, I really wanted to write my very own sex blog tonight, but alas, after so many nights with very little sleep, my brain seems to be mush and isn't producing much. When my brain heard sex blog, it immediately said, "not tonight, I have a headache." This is as close as I can come to a sex blog tonight. Seriously, though, if you haven't done it already, go read both Eric and Kay's blogs. You can not miss these two. Trust me. And now... for your viewing pleasure... If you were around in 1919 (just before the start of Prohibition) and came across the following poster..... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I mean, seriously, would you quit drinking? |
| Well, it happened again. You would think I would learn after a while, but NO-O-O-O-O-O-O. This morning I was glibly typing away in my little blog box – yes that’s right, I was not doing the smart thing and typing in Word to later copy and paste into my blog, even though I know better . Of course, what should happen but my stupid laptop did some stupid glitch thing and there went my cleverly worded blog. I was so mad at myself that I didn’t even try reconstructing what I had written. I gave myself the rest of the day to settle down and now, here I am safely ensconced in MS Word trying to come up with at least one thing to say that will be either profound, clever or profoundly clever. So far… nothing. Let’s go back and talk about that oh, so elusive Sleep Fairy of which I spoke last night. As you may note from the time stamp on this blog, the Sleep Fairy has not paid me a visit tonight either. It looks as though I may be forced to change my thinking about sleep. Perhaps if I took the approach that sleep is really over-rated anyway and, really? who needs it, I might be able to sneak up on it from the back. I’m not sure how effective reverse-psychology would be on the Sleep Fairy, but I may give it a shot. Just to see what happens. I’ll let you know. Tomorrow or some other night, because for now, I’m up. The thing I do miss about sleeping is my dreams. Well, some of them. I miss the ones that don’t make me wake up and look around the room thinking, What the hell WAS that? Last night when I finally reached the saturation level on the exhaustion scale and went back to bed for the umpteenth time to attempt sleep, I did, surprisingly, fall asleep. Not only did I sleep, but last night was a bonus night because I had a dream in which I was speaking in Spanish. I love having dreams like that. When I was living in Venezuela , taking Spanish lessons and trying to convince my old mind that it could indeed learn a new language, I used to have dreams in Spanish all the time. It was totally cool. Nowadays I have dreams about … well, I’m afraid if I tell you the weird stuff I dream about now, you not only won’t come back and read my blog anymore, but you just might have me fitted for a straight-jacket. I hear they aren’t terribly comfortable and on the fashion side, well, they don’t do a lot for you. Moreover, I assume they still only come in that one ghastly color – stark white. Not my best color. But, I digress. I dreamed in Spanish last night and that was way cool. Perhaps if I stay awake past the point of exhaustion again tonight, I’ll bust out the Spanish in my dreams once more. One time I dreamed I was pointing at something up in the sky and it was my hubby’s bad fortune that I was lying on my side facing him. I don’t remember what I was pointing at in the dream, but I was pointing with such a vengeance that my pointer finger actually lifted up off the bed and found its way into my beloved husband’s eye. I woke up to his screams of “YOU POKED ME IN THE EYE, YOU POKED ME IN THE EYE!” He was not a happy camper. In all fairness, he may have reason to be a little leery of my sleep habits. There was that other time when I was having a nightmare about being locked inside the house with someone trying to kill me. There were policemen outside who were there to keep the killer from getting to me (sheesh! Isn’t that always how it goes? The police are outside; the killer is inside with you, unbeknownst to you or the policemen.) When, I turned and saw the killer standing behind me, I knew I had to scream REALLY LOUD so the policemen would hear me through the walls. Once again, I was sleeping on my side, facing my hubby. He was on his back with his head, in particular, his ear, positioned very closely to my mouth. My scream did not stay inside my dream. It came out of my dream, into real life, right into the ear canal of my sleeping hubby. That time, I woke up from the combination of his scream and mine. That was around the same time that I got into the habit of raking my toenails down the back of his leg repeatedly while I slept until he would scream at me, “Turn over!” So, he may be justified in having some real issues with sleeping in the same bed with me. This latest chapter when I do nothing more disturbing than toss and turn and get up and down all night should be a piece of cake for him, given everything else he has gone through. I noticed last night when I got in bed for the last time; he started tossing and turning – as if he was trying to beat me to the punch or something. I almost had to tell him to be still, but I didn’t think he would take kindly to that. It’s 12:30 now – the witching hour is upon us. Time for me to make my first foray into the bedroom to try to sneak up on sleep. Shhhhhhhhh!!! Keep it down – maybe that damn Sleep Fairy won’t notice it’s me until it’s too late. |
| Just when I think I have nothing to post in my blog... again... along comes an email with something very "post-worthy" in it. Read and enjoy... The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners. Read them carefully. Each is an artificial word with only one letter altered from a real word. Some are very innovative: 1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with. 2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly. 3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people, that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future. 4. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time. 5. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high. 6. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it. 7. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late. 8. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness. 9. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.) 10. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer. 11. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you. 12. Glibido: All talk and no action 13. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly. 14. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web. 15. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out. 16. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating. And, the pick of the lot... 17. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an a**hole. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I honestly don't know why the sleep fairy is not visiting me this week, but it is starting to piss me off. I'm so tired that my brain is fried, but when I go get in my comfy bed and just lay there for a few minutes - all nice and quiet with the fan blowing on me - BAM! All of a sudden, I'm wide-freaking-awake. It's driving me crazy. And I know it's driving my poor husband crazy with all my ups and downs all night long. Last night he went to bed really early because he said he was tired. I asked why he was so tired and he said because he didn't get much sleep the night before with me bouncing around in the bed, getting up and down, sighing and twisting and turning all night long. So I told him to hurry up and get in bed and sleep as fast as he could so maybe he could get in a little good sleep before I came to bed. Yeah, I'm sure that helped. And not only can I not go to sleep at night, and then when I do, I wake up a kajillion times during the night, but when morning rolls around, I may not get out of bed until 8:30 or 9:00, but it sure as heck isn't because I'm sleeping. I might be rolling around dozing a lttle, but sleeping? Uh, no. In a few minutes when I finish this bitch session, I'm going to go crawl in bed (real sneaky quiet so as not to wake my poor sleep-deprived hubby) and I guarantee this is what will happen. I will drop off to sleep fairly quickly and just as I am about to fall over that sleep ledge - you know the one where you land in dreamland? - just before I fall over it, my damn eyes are going to pop open and voila'! I will be awake. Yeah, that's really funny, sleep fairy. I'm not laughing here. Okay, well, no use delaying the inevitable any longer. I'm dragging my tired butt into the bedroom and into my comfy bed. I'm sure I'll be seeing you all back here in a few hours. Nitey night! |
| I just received this email from my brother-in-law. I thought it would be a good way to start off the week - with a chuckle. Enjoy! A 5 year old's first job... Here's a truly heartwarming story about the bond Formed between a little 5-year-old girl and some Construction workers that will make you believe That we all can make a difference when we give a child the gift of our time. A young family moved into a house, next to a Vacant lot. One day, a construction crew began To build a house on the empty lot. The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an Interest in the goings-on and spent much of Each day observing the workers. Eventually the construction crew, all of them 'gems-in-the-rough,' more or less, adopted her As a kind of project mascot. They chatted with Her during coffee and lunch breaks and gave her Little jobs to do here and there to make her feel Important. At the end of the first week, they even Presented her with a pay envelope containing ten Dollars. The little girl took this home to her Mother who suggested that she take her ten Dollars 'pay' she'd received to the bank the next Day to start a savings account. When the girl and her mom got to the bank, the Teller was equally impressed and asked the little girl How she had come by her very own pay check at Such a young age. The little girl proudly replied, 'I worked last week with a real construction crew Building the new house next door to us.' 'Oh my goodness gracious,' said the teller, 'and will You be working on the house again this week, too?' The little girl replied, 'I will, if those assholes at Home Depot ever deliver the f _ ckin' sheet rock.' |
| Well, thank God! I just read partyof5 's blog from a few days ago heralding the arrival of that much-revered establishment called Hooters in his great state. Party's blog, with all of its accompanying comments, has blasted me out of my funk and helped me find my misplaced sense of humor. In light of that, allow me to extend a hale and hearty THANK YOU! to Party for administering the anti-venom that was exactly what the doctor ordered (if indeed there had been a doctor and he had survived my vile mood yesterday, a good guffaw is exactly what he would have ordered.) Now, since I am back in my right mind, and am once again unhindered from finding humor in the everyday things life has to offer, I'd like to offer up a funny little story that I actually added to Party's comment section first, but just in case anyone misses it, here is a repeat. Because it's pretty darn clever and consists of the kind of twisted humor that I find so appealing. partyof5 's blog about Hooters reminded me of something that one of my son Caleb's friends mentioned to him a few weeks ago. He has an idea that he says is guaranteed to make him a millionaire. He wants to open a "Hooter's type" establishment, hire only young men to work there, make them wear Speedos and call the place ..... SNAKES.Well, I thought it was damn funny! I haven't written one of those long, pointless, rambling blogs in a while, so I think today's the day. So, look out, here it comes. I watched a really good movie today on our U-verse cable that we pay way too much money for and then can never find anything to watch, even on the pay-per-view channels. I got lucky today and happened upon a movie that I actually wanted to see and it wasn't even on pay-per-view. It's called Things We Lost in the Fire, with Bernicio del Toro and Halle Barry. Wow. No wait, make that WOW. It is a really great movie. Oh, and it has the added advantage of starring David Duchovny (or however the heck he spells his name), who I think it totally HOT. Which brings me to my next rambling thought. Californication on Showtime. Have any of you watched that series? It's kind of "out there" I guess, but OMG, David Duchovny again! Yummmmm! I just read a really great book. The name of it is Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. I read a lot and rarely do I come across a TRUE page-turner that I just can't put down. But this book fits that description perfectly. Now before you totally dismiss it as a romance novel because of the title, you need to know that it's a fictionalized account of the real-life love affair between Frank Lloyd Wright and Mamah Cheney. It's totally NOT a bodice-ripper (sorry, but I hate those), instead it's an intelligent study of two people who were utterly fascinating, their equally fascinating relationship and the horrific historical event that fell upon them. Read it - you won't be sorry. On the same subject, I also just read Jen Lancaster's Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover if Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big, or Why Pie is Not the Answer. Shriekingly funny. I feel like I'm on MySpace filling out "Books I've Read" and "What I'm Listening to Now." I'll stop now. Just one last ramble and then I'm done (for today anyway, I'm not making any promises about tomorrow.) Did any of you happen to catch the boxing events on the Oympics, in particular the bout between the French boxer Alexis Vastine and Dominican boxer Felix Diaz? It was heartbreaking. I will never forget the anguish on the face of Alexis Vastine after the match which he lost because of an incompetent and unfair referee and equally incompetent judging. I had to look away as he cried in the arms of his coach. He kept looking around in unbelief that this kind of thing could happen at the much-revered Olympics, of all places. It had to be one of the lowest points, if not THE lowest point, of the 2008 Olympics. Tragic and shameful. This completes my ramble for today. Join me tomorrow as I find new and even more unrelated subjects about which to blog.  |
| I know we all have those days when we just seem to wake up on the wrong side of the bed--at least I think everyone does. I rarely have those kind of days, but today I did. And as the day worn on, it just got worse. Normally, I will try to shake it off and not allow my day to be ruined by some arbitrary bad mood when I roll out of bed. But today I didn't even feel like making any kind of effort to get in a better mood. If I was in elementary school today, I would be the obnoxious kid on the playground - the one who runs around pulling pigtails and pushing other kids down. If I was living in the Old West, I would have been marching into the saloon with a gun strapped to my hip, challenging mangy old cowboys to a shootout. If I was a race car driver, I would be zooming around the track at breakneck speed, crashing into any fool who got in my way. If I was a cook at a diner, I would burn everyone's orders just for the hell of it. If I was a policeman, I would throw everyone in jail just because I could. I'm not any of those things, but if I was, today would be bully day. I would be mean and nasty and a big jerk - just because. No reason other than that. I would feel better for a little while, but by the end of the day, or maybe by tomorrow morning (since this was a pretty severe bad mood,) I would start to feel guilty and wonder why I had given in to my baser instincts. Then I would have to start making amends. Crap. I'd have to make friends with all the kids on the playground again. I'd have to leave my Old West town because gunfighters would be gunning for me after my day of shooting off my mouth and my gun. I'd have to pay for all the other race car drivers to get their cars repaired since I ran into them just for meanness. I'd be looking for a new job at another diner after burning the crap out of everyone's food and if I was a policeman, well, nothing would really change there, but still..... Good thing I was just a grouchy woman stomping around my house today. Fortunately, I don't really have anyone to apologize to and all our guns are locked up, so the gunfighter thing wasn't an issue today. I did change my costumicon for a while today to a circle with a slash through it - that was the angriest costumicon I could find. Not a very effective statement, so it did little to assuage my anger. I guess the nastiest thing I did today was that I didn't have my usual sunny disposition and I didn't have anything nice to say, so I didn't say much to anyone. Whoa! Watch out, better not get in my way! I just might refrain from being nice to you and then you'll really feel my wrath. Oooooohhhh, scary! Let us all bow our heads and pray that tomorrow is a better day. God only knows what two of these days in a row might push me to do. |
With a nod toward Debi Wharton 's blog tonight as the inspiration for my latest "boast", please take a moment to read my musings about that special bond that exists between mothers and their sons.
Thank you in advance for checking it out!  |
| Wanna see something really disturbing? . . . . . . . . . Ready? . . . . . . Free puppy to a good home....... . . . . . . ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| You know what I love to buy? School supplies. Or office supplies. Either one will do, I just love buying pens and spiral notebooks and markers and folders. Especially pens - really cool pens, that write well. Not some mamby-pamby rinky-dink little skinny line that feels like you're scratching across the paper with a safety pin and not some big old fat line that spills too much ink on the paper and makes the line bleed all over the paper. Nope, it has to be the perfect size point on a good pen. It's not fine or bold and it's not really even a medium point. It's just a hair under a medium point. Substantial enough to make a statement, but not bold enough to make a furry statement. Yep, that's the kind of pen I like. Blue ink, not black. Black ink just doesn't do it for me. But if you really want to see my eyes sparkle, then bring out the RED pens. Ahhhhhhhhh!!! Now we're talking. And since we're talking about the holy grail of writing instruments, I might as well go ahead and bring up the most sacred of tablets. That would be a fine etched leather journal with excellent quality thick (but not too thick) finely lined pages. Whooooo! Hey, is it hot in here? Hold on while I turn on the ceiling fan and get myself something cool to drink..... Okay, I'm back. Now, where were we? Oh, yes, a Mont Blanc blue ink pen and a supple leather journal. It just doesn't get much better than that. It's always hard for me to make that first mark in the journal though. I have fairly nice handwriting, but for some reason it seems to go all squirrelly when I attempt to make the initial entry in a new journal. That's when my handwriting becomes that of a serial killer or for some unknown reason, morphs into the handwriting of a ... a ... doctor!....shhhhhh! Once I can get past the first paragraph or so, my handwriting returns to normal, but that first paragraph always looks like it was written by someone with a broken hand. And that just kills me! Ah, but I digress. I believe we were talking about school supplies, were we not? Okay, back to the subject at hand. Pencils, I'm not fond of. Never have been. Never was that fond of math, either, so that may explain my distaste for pencils. Oh, and paper clips - but not the little weanie ones - has to be the big honkin' paper clips that can actually do the job they're designed for. Notebook paper should be college-ruled, not wide-ruled. I mean, come on, who writes that big anyway? As for tablets, no yellow legal pads for me. Those are totally old-school and they're clunky. If we're going for tablets, let's look for the ones with a spiral spine and thick cardboard fronts and backs. If we're just talking about regular spiral notebooks, there are rules for those too. The five-subject spiral notebooks are the best, especially if they have the plastic subject divider pages with pockets. Those wimpy single-subject spiral notebooks that only come in plain, boring colors? I ask you, why do they even bother? Throw those puppies out. No good. Crayons. No knock-off brands - they suck. Has to be Crayola brand - preferably the 64-count box with a built-in sharpener. Classic colors, too, not any of those funky new-fangled swirly colors. Map colors? Who needs 'em? Yuck. Folders - with or without pockets or brads, doesn't really matter. The important thing about folders is that they must be an expression of one's personality. You can't just go in there and grab the first five or six folders that happen to be laying there. No, no, no ,no! Folders say everything about you, therefore, it is very important to carefully choose colors, patterns, designs, whatever catches your eye. But whatever it is, it should speak to you. It should say, BUY ME! You can't live without me! Rulers - must be wooden, no metal rulers allowed. I think that just about covers it. Anyone want to go shopping for school supplies with me? |
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