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 |  Breaking the laws of blogging, one entry at a time. |
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Wanted: For repeated blog faux pas, including, but not limited to: Obsessive ranting - guilty on 92 counts. Repeatedly beating a dead horse - guilty on 17 counts. Unnecessary use of curse words - guilty on 142 counts. Boring daily recounts - guilty on 45 counts. Pointless entries - guilty on 214 counts. Contradictory statements - guilty on 72 counts. Recounting toilet actions - guilty on 15 counts. Overdramatization of insignificant things - guilty on 152 counts. Overreacting to meaningless gestures - guilty on 22 counts. Unnecessary temper tantrums - guilty on 75 counts. Cruelty towards animals, superiors, peers, and inferiors - guilty on 146 counts. Repeated bad grammar, spelling, and opinionations - guilty on 214 counts. Suspect is considered armed and dangerous. Do not confront directly, instead call the authorities and slowly back away. Do not provoke suspect, as she is easy to agitate. The best action to take is to smile and nod. Any other response could lead suspect to rant and rave for days without ceasing. REWARD OFFERED FOR CAPTURE Dead or alive. Offending evidence: ![Merit Badge in Journaling
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Given for penning the favorite response entry in the Follow the Leader contest with "Come Again?"](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Journaling-2180.gif) (Exhibit A) ![Merit Badge in Variety
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Because I never knew what to expect from your Follow the Leader entries, but I'm oh so glad you played!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Variety-2500.gif) (Exhibit B) (Exhibit C) ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
Hello Sudafed, my old friend, Here I am taking you again, Because my nose is slowly dripping, Clogging up while I am sleeping, And I need some help for it to drain, Not remain, Within the realm of post-nasal-drip. In the world of sinus I'm not alone, Narrowing tubes through congestion, No humidifier is enough damp, No vapo' rub to release the clamp, When my eyes were stabbed by throbbing pain, They hurt so bad, How I'd be glad, To be rid of this post-nasal-drip. And as I swallow Sudafed, I wait for the relief to spread, For my sinuses to stop dripping, And my stomach to stop floppy-flipping, While no drowsiness is overtaking, And I stop aching, And be gone with this post-nasal-drip. Those with sinus infections must know, Sudafed will help with booger blows, And your nose will not burn, And your stomach will not turn, But unless you take it you will suffer, And live In the agony of post-nasal-drip. And now with Sudafed on its way, To the Sinus God I pray, And without drowsiness my nose is unplugging, And the pain is no longer bugging, While I breathe with much relief And time my next pill's taking, My heart unbreaking, As it is released from shackels of post-nasal-drip. Sung to "The Sounds Of Silence" by Simon & Garfunkel |
Leading entry: "Invalid Entry"  Returning to work has started off with a "Bang!" for me. My first day, I learned how to file transportation request forms with the bus depot for the kids living in shelters, with family, or in motels so they can get transportation to and from school. It's amazing to me the lengths the school district will go to in order to make sure that a student, who is in an already chaotic situation outside of the classroom, has some sort of stability in that they won't have to constantly change schools in order to get an education. The second day, I was all by myself for most of my morning, which is all that I work. My boss had meetings with different elementary school principals (there's 16 elementary schools if I remember correctly). Most of my morning was spent cross referencing our list with shelter lists to make sure that all our kids were accounted for and everyone had a bus to get where they needed to go. This morning, I was expecting to have a quiet morning learning more about my position with my boss. I got to work right at 8 am, to an empty office, which didn't surprise me because my boss... well she doesn't come across as an on-the-dot type of person. I started on my "in" box at my desk and the phone rang. After I'd said my little phone greeting spiel, my boss told me she wasn't coming in today because she was ill. Talk about shocked! What do I do with myself all day? I didn't have to worry about that. Between the maniacle ringing phone, the transportation requests, and working on getting this database together that she asked me to make, I didn't even get a chance to look at the clock until 11:15! Time whizzed by. Oh, I forgot the real bang, though. I don't think I mentioned this previously, but I have my own office! I'm only part time, and I have an office that isn't a cubicle for the first time in my entire working life. The only problem is that our office is in the old high school building and my office is a room that used to be a coat closet. I'm not talking one of those small things that you can barely squeeze a desk into. It looks like it used to be one of those rooms where kids would hang their coats on a hook on the wall and put their belongings in a cubby in the middle of the room. I know the coat hooks are true because they're still there. My head knows they're still there, too. That's right. My very first day, I discovered the boundaries of my office by bending over to plug my phone (which doesn't work quite yet) into the wall. Instead of tilting my head to the side to find the hole, I whacked my noggin on one of those damned hooks. It still hurts 2 days later! Not quite like holding a gun in my hands, but I like being responsible for making sure these kids get a good education. At least, it won't be the school district failing them like it was with me when I was in high school. If anything, it will be the parents failing them or the system failing them. For some of these kids, school is all they have to look forward to. I hope I don't ever let one of them down. Oh, and if anyone's interested, this is some information related to my job. http://www.hud.gov/offices/cpd/homeless/rulesandregs/laws/ |
| Sometimes, people really crack me up. They say something that can be considered insulting and then, when you turn around and say something that could be taken either as non-insulting as they intended to be, or as insulting as they found their own statements to be, they freak out. See, the thing is that when I act insulted, it usually really is all an act, especially when it comes to things that are insignificant. I could get mad at Problematic Content  every time that he called one of my blog entries boring, but instead, I choose to banter back and forth with him because it keeps us both entertained. Plus, I really don't care what he thinks about whatever I choose to write about. Not enough that it would upset me, at least, and he knows that, which is why he says what he says when he says it.On the other hand, I guess other people can't handle that banter. They take everything and blow it out of proportion, over dramatizing the entire incident to the point that it's even more hilarious to me. Grow up, get a thicker skin, and stop taking everything everyone says so literally. It really isn't that hard. See, you say that I've chosen old lady/hillbilly/hippie names, and I'm going to tell you that you must know, whether or not I actually think you're an old lady/hillbilly/hippie. You say that I'm an idiot, and I'm going to say that old adage, "it takes one to know one," because it truly must. That isn't me saying I think you're an idiot. That's me giving you a dose of your own medicine. By the way, just so the semantics are published: A redneck and a hillbilly are not the same thing. Just because a town has a single stoplight does not make it civilized. It means that they wanted to feel better and make themselves seem less "back woods," so that the citizens of said town will feel less "hillbilly" and get rid of their complexes. Most roads in rural areas are paved because it makes it easier for the tractor to travel down them in a rain storm. (This is not a generalization. This is what I learned while living in the "holler" in "back woods" Kentucky.) An idiot is an ignorant person, or a person who makes broad generalizations without using fact to back it up. Wikipedia.org and m-w.com are great places to gain knowledge to argue semantics. You aren't stupid, you just need to stop letting your emotions get the best of you. Liking country music does not make you a hillbilly (see definition of hillbilly on m-w.com). Liking country music just makes you a person who likes country music. I think that's it. If I've upset you, good. I was going to upset you, anyway, so I figured I'd at least give it the old college try. (Because I attended college while living in "back woods" Kentucky, you know. And graduated Magna Cum Laude with an Associates of Applied Science. Can you say that on your resume?) |
| Leading entry: "Bang!" I first entered the original "Invalid Item" for the same reasons, as a way to challenge myself. I wanted something different to talk about; something other than what latest new activity in which my son is partaking, the latest fight I had with Jason, or my latest angst-filled non-drama.It would also give me a chance to talk about subjects I might not otherwise think about in terms of a journal or blog entry, along with a chance to read other blogs and journals of members who may also visit mine in return. We all know that I thrive on blog comments and will do just about anything to get them, including attempting to put my own spin on their leading entry. Over the course of the past several rounds in which I've participated, I've become somewhat addicted to this prompt journaling. I bet you couldn't tell, what with my entering three (or four?) rounds, and now the All-Star version, since I've placed third once (with Sophy  ) and received and honorable mention once (which was shocking to me since there were so many talented journalers in that round). With the holidays coming, there is so many things to get done, but I entered this round. Not because I'm crazy, though I openly admit insanity, but because it gives me that little bit of time to unwind and decompress and think to myself with each entry that gets my response. Follow the Leader has become my "me" time, if you will. It has even become more fun to me, in some ways, than scrapbooking. Well... maybe I won't go that far. Follow the Leader has become just as fun to me as scrapbooking. It's another way for me to release some of the stress and pressure that builds up within my brain. If I didn't have some kind of release these days, that BANG would be my head as it burst from all of the hot air that builds up every day. |
| So here's the names I'd like to see stay on the list by the time I can wrestle Jason into helping me widdle some down. I want to remind people that when you have certain names you want, you may have to throw in some names you don't in order for your significant other to choose the names you want. Yes, manipulating the system, but not in an evil way. 1. Abigail 2. Addison 3. Baylee 4. Cadence 5. Cassidy (middle name only) 6. Dakota 7. Evelyn 8. Gabrielle 9. Kennedy 10. Mae (middle name only) 11. Maxine (middle name only) 12. Meredith 13. Mikayla 14. Paige 15. Parker 16. Reagan 17. Reegan 18. Shelby 19. Shiloh 20. Sydney 21. Talor 22. Tannar 23. Teagan 24. Zoey When we do make a decision, I'm not going to share it, though, the same as with our boy's name. Neither one of us want to listen to people bitch about the "sucky ass, hillbilly/hippie" name that we chose for our child, even if that name is Evelyn, Cadence, Meredith, or Addison, which aren't hippy/hillbilly at all, nor are they spelled uncommonly. |
| Wow. I have a lot to get done in my 4 hours at work each morning (or afternoon, if I ever have to switch my day around for whatever reason). Not only am I creating a database pretty much from scratch and keeping track of information with that database, but I'm also kind of a secretary and general go-to person for my boss. I really like my boss, so far. She's a little bit disorganized, a little bit crazy, but a big sweetheart. Plus she doesn't micromanage. That's always a plus for me. I hate being micromanaged. I joined the All-Star round of Follow the Leader. Once I get adjusted (I'm thinking by tomorrow, I'll be in a better time-management situation), I'll get started on my response entries. I have some other stuff I have to get done, first. |
| We spent a little bit of time talking baby names today. Like I said, we already have a boy's name picked out, so I'm not sharing that. Here's the different names and possible cominations we came up with for a girl: 1. Abigail 2. Addison 3. Baylee 4. Cadence 5. Cassidy (middle name only) 6. Dakota 7. Evelyn 8. Gabrielle 9. Kennedy 10. Mae (middle name only) 11. Maxine (middle name only) 12. Meredith 13. Mikayla 14. Paige 15. Parker 16. Reagan 17. Reegan 18. Shelby 19. Shiloh 20. Sydney 21. Talor 22. Tannar 23. Teagan 24. Zoey Combinations with initials: 1. Evelyn Abigail (EAW) 2. Addison Maxine (AMW) 3. Cadence Baylee (CBW) 4. Evelyn Cassidy (ECW) 5. Evelyn Kennedy (EKW) 6. Reegan Mae (RMW) 7. Evelyn Meredith (EMW) 8. Mikayla Mae (MMW) [Making a revisit from last pregnancy.] 9. Meredith Paige (MPW) 10. Addison Paige (APW) 11. Evelyn Parker (EPW) 12. Reagan Kennedy (RKW) 13. Sydney Mae (SMW) 14. Teagan Cassidy (TCW) 15. Zoey Parker (ZPW) We picked a family name for the boy, so we're not sure if we should do the same thing for the girl because we want to be consistant. I really liked the name Madeleine, but Jason vetoed it. *Sigh.* And, yes, I realize that two names are from Grey's Anatomy, but not on purpose. I really like the name Addison and I really like the name Meredith. Jason didn't veto them off my list off 32 names to start with, so he must like them a little, too. Vetoed names include: 1. Aidan 2. Chloe 3. Isabel 4. Madeleine 5. Marianne 6. Payton 7. Ryder 8. Scarlett The ones I'm really disappointed over are Isabel and Madeleine. The rest, I wasn't incredibly fond of them but liked them as a middle name. We have a while before we have to really widdle this list down, though. It's just funny because last time around, we had the girl's name picked out right away (Mikayla Mae) and we ho-hummed over a boy's name (I really like quite a few), and this time it's the other way around. Boys names we're not using, even though I like them: 1. Ezekiel (for Zeke) 2. Abraham (for Abe) 3. Nathaniel (for Nate) 4. Gabriel (for Gabe) 5. Noah 6. Seth 7. Princeton Jason says I like weird and Biblical names that he doesn't like. I just like the shortened versions, but I won't name my kid a nickname of a name, so sue me. |
| Last night, we got a pet alligator. It was a feisty little thing and snapped at Jason's arms several times before we finally shut its snout with a rubber band. It lived in an aquarium for a while, until it became too large to be contained. Once it was too big to be a decent pet, we donated it to a zoo. It now lives happily with other alligators and no longer has a rubber band around its snappy snout. Later, I had some unorthodox tests run to determine that my chances of having a girl are very high. One of the men who performed the tests bore close resemblance to my father, which made me uneasy and made it difficult for the tests to proceed. I don't know what the other tests were supposed to determine, but they involved cameras and things like that. Lucky me, for freaking out and not being able to proceed. A little while later, we were riding the trolley downtown and made it all of the way to the north pole to visit Santa Claus. I don't remember too much of the visit. It was my most boring adventure of the evening, apparently. A couple of nights ago, Jason startled me awake. He shot up in bed and sat there for a moment. I called his name a couple of times, trying to get his attention. "Check his face," he said. "Whose face?" I asked. "Ethan's!" "He's in bed! Go back to sleep!" When I asked him in the morning, he couldn't remember the incident or the dream that prompted him to believe there was something on his son's face. There was a night about two weeks ago, where he got out of bed and was sleepwalking and I didn't wake up to make him go back to bed. He woke up, in the middle of the night, in his boxer shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of slippers, in the middle of our snow-covered back yard, searching for Ethan. He dreamt that he was sleeping in bed with us and got up and snuck out the dog door. Ethan was actually sleeping in his crib at the time, but Jason has a lot of dreams that where something happens to Ethan. When he's really stressed out or tired, he sleepwalks and the dreams are his setting. Before Ethan was born, he used to dream about his gun cabinet tipping over or snakes in my hair. That one was hilarious. I woke up to see Jason staring down at me in the bed, picking through my hair. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked. "There's snakes in the bed," he responded. "That's my hair, asshole! Go back to sleep!" "Are you sure?" "Yes, I'm sure. Go back to sleep." And he did just that. When I asked him the next morning, he had no memory of the incident. It used to piss me off that he'd wake me up with his awake dreaming, but now I usually just laugh it off the next day. He very rarely remembers them, so to me it's kind of cool if I get to remember it for him. Although, a couple of times, he wasn't dreaming and I thought he was. One particular time, he asked me the next morning if I remembered him getting out of bed because the dog was stuck in the basement. I told him he had to have been dreaming because neither one of our dogs will go down the stairs. Later that week, in the middle of the day, we hear Streak barking from somewhere in the house. Jason came to me. "Come here. I have to prove something to you." He leads me to the basement, where Streak was standing at the bottom of the stairs, barking for us to help him out. "See! I told you I wasn't dreaming!" Oddly enough, Streak only went down there that last time. I still think Jason took him down there to "prove" to me that he wasn't dreaming. |
| If, for some reason, you're ever constipated and you want to try to work it out naturally, go eat some Chuck E Cheese pizza. That stuff acts like an oil slick and cleans you right out. I woke up at about 3 am with some cramps in my back and sick to my stomach. I thought I was having a miscarriage or something. No. What I was having was an acute case of butt pee. Every single one of us had a stomach ache in the middle of the night from that wretched, greasy stuff. Poor Ethan was up in the middle of the night and ended up coming back to bed with us for a while. Part of it was probably that the little bit that he did eat did a number on his stomach and the other part was probably because he was hungry as all get out. Don't get me wrong. It's a fun place, and it's actually a safe place to take your kids despite my worries that it would be a pedophile breeding ground. They stamped Jason, Ethan, and my hands with a unique number in ink that can only be seen with a black light and then check that everyone's numbers match before we're able to leave. Nobody is going to run off with my kid that way, which is nice. Anyway, I was wiped out after our gallavanting around Chuck E Cheese village. I think we rode every ride at least twice and played just about every game at least once. Definitely an overstimulating experience. |
| I'm all for Internet relationships. I'm all for peace, love, and sex in the new century. I'm even all for cyber sex, as long as I don't have to bare witness to it. That said, regardless of how I feel about a person, be they a friend or foe, I get disgusted when I am forced to bare witness to public displays of affection in communication avenues such as Scroll. I don't care who you choose to lay your cyber kisses and love on. But please, please, please, for the sake of everyone else, don't lay them on your chosen whoever where everyone else has to bare witness to it. That's what private IMs are for. I didn't join a singles forum when I became a member of Writing.Com. I joined Writing.Com to write. I'm happy for those who can find their soul mates, their best friends, the loves of their lives on Writing.Com, but that doesn't mean that when my best friend in town met her now-husband, I wanted to sit and watch them play kissy face for hours on end. Quite frankly, it made me want to vomit. A single kissy-huggy thing isn't a big deal, but when it draws on and on and on, it makes everyone else uncomfortable and they probably want to vomit, too. All y'all are entitled to your opinions, as am I. This isn't an attack on any single person in particular. It's just a trend I've been noticing and I don't like it. So, please, please, please get a room, AKA a private IM. |
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Whatever you do, hang in there, he'll be sleeping like a big boy in no time!