Pied Piper

I'm flabbergasted a little surprised.

Come on people. Be for real.

I have been a bitch on wheels haven't been feeling too great for the last couple of days. For the bits of time that I wasn't hiding under the covers in bed I was parked in front of the computer.
Reading blogs.
I saw that I lost a follower.
Then I read a post saying "OMG I LOST 46 FOLLOWERS"
And another "WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID"
Followed by "COME BACK, COME BACK I MISS YOU ALL"
It was the Google Flu, people. Google was "adjusting" something somewhere in their Technical Batcave. No Followers were lost, they just got shuffled into the wrong bus line for awhile.
Google should apologize for damaging the psyche of so many bloggers in so little time.
Some of the "I've Lost My Followers" posts were tongue-in-cheek.
Some were sincere.
Some promised never to say "faux" again.
Some said "faux-ity faux faux."
Just A Reminder: Blogging is NOT a popularity contest.
Blogging IS all about you.
It's whatever you want it to be.
It's in your words.
It's in your time. Don't apologize for being a "bad blogger"

Blogging is not meant for you to feel inadequate, or all-powerful, or smart or stupid.
Blogging is a release. It's a place to vent. Or share. Or make wisecracks about your sisters. because you love them.
It's a tool, people.

Love Yourself Just The Way You Are.

Embrace who you are right now, help another woman love herself too. Life is too short, time is too precious. Let's wear our hearts on our feet, put on your red shoes and walk with your head held high!

Liberty Post and the lady in Red Shoes would like you to share the RedShoe Love-a-thon. If you'd like to join in, add the photo to your sidebar.

P.S. I'm still following you.

Once Upon A Time....

.......there was a beautiful princess Crotchety Old Mom. Her daughter was 17 and no longer in need of constant supervision.

The Princess Daughter bought Mom a new book called "He's Just Not That Into You."

Crotchety Old Mom read it like an owner's manual.

Several times.

And realized she just wasn't into the frog prince she was dating, nor he her.

Mom is well aware of her misplaced grammar.

She bid him adieu.

Mom was pretty much resigned to remaining single for the rest of her days.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

She would have been perfectly content to take up bird-watching or basket-weaving or a few more stray cats.

The Internet beckoned.

GottaMatch had a special deal going on.

Her BFF had emailed many delightful "profiles" of eligible princes for the Mom's amusement.

Mom now wishes she would have saved one particularly amusing picture from StupidCupid.com. It featured a very short very plump biker dude wearing nothing but a pair of leather trousers and a large dagger.

Seriously.

Mom joined GottaMatch so she and her BFF could amuse one another by picking out potential Princes for each other.

GottaMatch would also pick out potential Princes and email their profiles. Kind of like a Royal Personal Shopper.

I was shopping. Not to buy, just s.h.o.p.p.i.n.g.

GottaMatch dropped a few "you might find this Prince tolerable amusing"in the Royal Inbox.
Meh.

One evening LuckyGuy landed in the Royal Inbox. He said he was lucky because he had broken his neck @ C1 and C2 and suffered spinal cord injuries (eerily similar to Christopher Reeves); but that after a year of rehab he was no longer wheelchair bound and was getting around pretty well on his own, thankyouverymuch.

CrotchetyOldMom is a rehab nurse. She recognized that LuckyGuy had worked his fanny off to get back on his feet.

She sent him an "atta boy" note.

He emailed back.

He was funny.

She emailed "you amuse me"

Barrage of emails.

Followed by phone calls.

And a date.

He came over and helped with dinner. We made meatloaf.

the Sisters called. "What are you DOING?," they asked.

"we are making meatloaf."

"OH! IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL IT? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

the Sisters amused themselves.

I made meatloaf last night.

Mr Sweetie will say that it's just as good as the first time he had it. When his name was LuckyGuy.

Ms. Fixit

Big Sis K and Little Sis Stew left me here in the snow belt.
Alone.
With BSK's crap-mobile uh van parked in my driveway.
While they go to the tropics to snorkel and play footsie in the sand and visit my brother.
Where they will talk trash about me.
Because when you are laying about in the sand complaining about the heat and the humidity and how the sun's a little too bright for your liking and your beloved family member is unable to eavesdrop you just naturally think of that particular family member.
right?
K. asked me to move the van around the driveway every day so the brakes wouldn't seize up or freeze or whatever the heck malingering tempramental brakes do when they aren't being coddled and loved.
Well I really MEANT to go out and move it. But I'm easily distracted.
I didn't bother to move the van for a several many couple of days.
The brakes froze.
Solid.
I emailed the knowlegable folks at CarTalk's Chat Forum.
"Take the wheels off and bleed the brake lines"
huh ?
"get under the car and....." Didn't even finish reading that one. I don't do "get under the car."
"take your torque wrench and..." Yeah, let me just root around under the kitchen sink for that torque wrench. It's around here somewhere...
"Spray the brakes with Brakleen."
"Whatever you do, don't spray the brakes with Brakleen."
I went to the Highest Authority of Brakedom. The owner of the crapmobile van.

"Uh, hi, K., your brakes suck."
"Oh, yeah, I know. Just gun the gas and they'll break loose. You'll hear a big old CLUNK but that's OK. Go ahead, gun it."
I gunned it. Clunk. The van goes back and forth. Problem solved.
Mr Sweetie: "Uh, honey? The back wheels aren't moving. You're sliding on that big patch of ice."
Problem not solved. Big patches of rubber on the driveway.
shit crap.
My BIL calls. He is crying laughing.
"Hey, Stew called and asked me to come over and move the van because she didn't think you knew how to drive an automatic."

It's almost true. I drive standard shift. Put me in an automatic and I will always hit the brake and the gas simultaneously thinking that the brake is the clutch because that's how ya shift gears, ya know. but not in an automatic.
Long discussion about the nerve of those two leaving us behind to do the dirty work while they're frolicking in the sand.
Stew owes Tim big favors for coming down here , getting under the van in three feet of snow and fixing the brakes while I singlehandedly hold the van up with my girly biceps.
Hah.
not really. But that's his story.
The van decided to get over its temper fit and moved. All four wheels this time. With me driving.
Problem solved.
I better get a big big souvenier out of this.

Bunny Tales

My BFF was married to Mr. D., a complex and interesting character with a complex and interesting job.

One of the less complex aspects of his job was wading through sewers. The massive ones. The reason for doing such a ewww gross thing is lost in the mists of time and my foggy memory. Mr. D. would hold forth dissertations on what was found in the depths of underground plumbing......"those big lady things women wear? Ya know? Those whaddacallums."

"Pads, Mr.D. Kotex.", his wife would sweetly intone.

"Yeah, them. Ya know what they look like in the dark? In a sewer? When you come up on them all of a sudden?" (wife is smirking. She's heard this story.)

"Bunnies. They look like bunnies in the sewer." (holding arms wide wide apart to demonstrate that they look like monster bunnies.) what a comforting thought.

May the Monster Bunnies be kind to you this month.

There is no possible way to segue to the point of this post ...drumroll please...... Patrick of Cre8tor's Touch is celebrating his 100th post with a Primitive Angel Bunny Giveaway. I really really want it.

I once fancied myself a dollmaker. I'm still a doll maker, dang it, they're just on the back burner right now. See those clowns and angels up on my header? I made them. (takes modest bow) I will love them to my dying day, even if I sold them.....

Many thanks to the clowns and angels that visit here. You all make my day ( my family's heard all the stories before. They don't even listen politely when I try to form a sentence....they wait for me to blog about it...)

Happiness Is.....

going to Tiffy's blog and giving her *birthday hugs* on Thursday..... she L.O.V.E.S. hugs! A Bloggy Birthday Blowout Hug-a-thon don't kill me Tiffany.....please be sure to stop by and wish her a Happy Birthday! you don't really have to hug her, she might blow from the pressure.....


....reading Kori's post today...and the ability to spare ten bucks for a good cause. Please go to her blog, find that little "donate" button, and work your magic. A six-month old little girl will thank you. So will her parents. So will Kori. .thank you.

....knowing that I will live for another week before both of my sisters come home to kill me....Stew is gonna kill me for letting the Entire World know that beneath that lady-like exterior she's a tootin' fool....and Big Sis K will kill me twice because the van that she parked in my driveway is s.t.u.c.k. in Park.....she oh-so-innocently asked me to move the van a few feet every day so that the brakes wouldn't get stuck. I went out to move it. The brakes are stuck. hmmmmm....I smell a rat. Or burning brakes.

.....an AWARD!!! In the midst of thinking up happy things, an email from Snooty Primadona popped up with a fantabulous award!!!

Blog Darts Thinker

“This award acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write. Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It’s a great way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.”
..... how freaking cool is that???

I get to nominate another 15 bloggers to pass this shiny new award on to. Or more than 15. Rules, schmules.

my work adds value to the Web? huh?

....my daughter. She is AWESOME. Having survived years of d.r.am.a., driving lessons, prom nightmares ( "we" have a small fortune in prom dresses and dried-up corsages in the closet...) frightening potential boyfriends with my PsychoMom glare and being a mom/dad to her ~ she still likes me. wow. We survived!

...all of the wonderful, funny, cussing, letting-it-all-out bloggers. (let's all link arms and sing It's A Small World After All).....you know who you are. Yes, you. thank you.

What I Didn't Blog About....

There are a bajillion drafts in my blog.

But.

I didn't blog about my sister with asthma.
Asthma makes her cough.
Coughing makes her toot.
Tooting makes her sisters laugh like 12 year olds.

"yeah, sit next to me on the plane for three days and laugh" she snarled. I didn't think she'd think it was funny if I exposed her un-ladylike behavior.
it's still funny.
she'll kill me when the Sisters get back from vacation.

I didn't blog about the sisters on vacation. On an island. Far away. Without me. boo hoo. Green with envy, I tell ya.

I didn't blog about the first nursing home I worked at. That's where I met my very first cross-dressing transvestite nursing assistant. Sydney was a little exotic looking. I thought she had really big hands. One of Sydney's old high school classmates was hired shortly after I started working there. Classmate commented,"It's a little weird seeing Sydney in a dress." I said, "Why's that?"
Classmate said, "We were in the same graduating class. She was a boy then."

Oh.

Classmate said "Adam's Apple." (apparently I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box since it had to be pointed out to me that there are some obvious discrepencies between girlstuff and boystuff. Not that anything was ever actually taken out and pointed at me. Except for that Adam's Apple.)

I didn't blog about the mashed potatoes I made on Sunday. Because they are addictive. Tater Crack. (I will not blog about the Tater Crack disappearing overnight and finding a new home on my butt.)

Go here for the recipe. Don't say I didn't warn you. Thank You Snooty Primadona. Just say no if you're on KFMBA.

I didn't blog about my fabulous new job because I'm still waiting for the winning lottery ticket to waft down from the heavens I don't HAVE one yet. You'll be the first to know.

I didn't blog about Mr. Sweetie looking at more freaking surgery. Soon. He's had a hip replacement and a shoulder replacement in the past year. Shoulder Number Two is giving him fits acting up. He's not that old.

Hospitals suck. Arthritis sucks.

Mr. Sweetie promised that I'd get a remote control with the next replacement part heh heh.

What haven't you blogged about this week?

Needy

I always like to think that I was independent. "No thank you", I'd say in reply to passersby inquiring if I needed a hand picking up and moving a Volkswagen Beetle. (it was in my parking spot.)

I'd climb the shelves to reach the Cheerios in the grocery aisle.

I'm needier than I thought.

I have succumbed to that little ditty that's been circulating the Blogosphere ~ "Linda Needs"

Go to Google and put in your name and "needs" in the search button.

Linda needs to be a part of a loving, committed marriage.

I'll stick with a loving commited partnership TYVM.

Linda Needs Mental Help.

The one who denies it the most strongly is always the one in the most need of help. I'm fine. I'm fine, dammit. Fine fine fine.

Linda needs a new best friend.

Do not either. My BFF will do just fine. Even if she's a foot taller, blond, gorgeous and we're polar opposites. It doesn't matter to me that salesladies waiters and men swarm her when she walks through the door trampling me in their eagerness to get there first.

Linda needs help (more than usual).

don't we all.

Linda needs to be bright

stick a light bulb in my mouth and plug me in. Bright enough for you?

Linda you need a shrink

opinions expressed in this post are not neccesarily those of the author.

"I would give anything for $40,000 a month,and Linda needs more."

I'm willing to take less.

Linda needs to flatten her chest

Gravity is taking care of that.

Linda needs to think real hard and pray.

Did that. Thinking gave me a headache.

Thinking is Giving Me a Headache

Pass the Tylenol. Pass the Xanax if you have one to spare. I'll pay you back. Promise.

Once again I'm on the merry-go-round. Should I go back to work? Should I not?

I used to once upon a time work at a nursing home. I loved it there. Loved my co-workers or at least some of them loved most of the residents.

The problem is with loving who you work with or work for is that they do eventually go away. To Heaven. I really got a little tired of losing friends that way.

After one of my best 104-year-old nursing home friends decided that it was high time to clock out and go on a permanent vacation I thought maybe I should get a job elsewhere. Like in a hospital where the patients don't call their room "home." Where they would get better and walk out the door. The hospital was a good place to work, if only because patients DID get better and left the hospital in a more or less vertical position. Hospital politics? Meh. Let's just say five hospital presidents in the five years I worked there.

We started a business while I was working at the hospital. Initially the business was meant to be a little project but it kind of took off and turned into a real live j.o.b.

I was working two full-time jobs. Work/home became work/work at home/work/work/work.

The best thing about working at home? You don't have to get up and get dressed and get in the car.

The worst thing about working at home? You don't get to get dressed and get in the car and go to work and come home. Work is there right outside the bedroom door.

Then Hospital Politics reared its ugly head and all of the LPNs were let go.

"Fine" I said. "Business is good" I said. "I'll just work one freakin job and sit in my jammies all day not worry about juggling work/home/work/home/workhome.

fast forward a year....

Can you say r-e-c-e-s-s-i-o-n? Business is OK. Kinda. But I'm anal about the bills. Kinda.

The nursing home I worked at just opened up two new buildings.

I loved it there.

I should go and apply for a j.o.b.

What if they say NO?

What if they say yes?

Please come kick me off this fence I'm riding. My butt is getting sore.

Life On An Island/AKA Man In the Bathtub

And you all thought I was a good procrastinator ~ I asked my brother ohhhhh maybe about 10 weeks ago (he says three weeks but who's counting) to give me 10 good reasons to live on an island. Al lives on a little teeny tiny island. With approximately 141 other science geeks fascinating people. He lives on Roi-Namur in the Marshall Islands, playing with satellites and fishies. That's him in the picture trying to get away to a bigger island with g.i.rl.s. on it playing in what he likes to call his bathtub.

Al's Top 10 Reasons to Live On An Island

Linda - Well, it's been 3 weeks; about time to stop procrastinating. I know this Top 10 doesn't apply to just any island; only the one I'm calling home right now.

1) Rarely warmer than 88 degrees. (note to self: MOVE IN WITH AL)


2) Rarely colder than 76 degrees. (bring a sweater for those chilly 76 degree nights)


3) No personal vehicles = no traffic, no car maintenance, payments, or insurance. (packin'my flip flops)


4) No ^&*!#$%* kids. (he really does love his neices and nephews. As long as they don't spit sneeze drool or poop on him.)


5) Less than 100 people on the island = get along or else. (I wanna see a little "or else.")


6) No Federal income tax, state tax, electric bills, water bills, or grocery bills. (I'm packing right now. NO BILLS. NO TAXES.*sigh*)


7) Intermittent dial-up Internet service - requires one to develop and exercise eternal patience. (HUH? that might be a little problem.....)

8) No UPS, FedEX, etc. - US Postal Service is only shipping option. "Instant gratification is only 3 - 4 weeks away." (that is not instant. Instant is rightnowrightnowrightnow.)


8) Lots of fun toys to play with at work (satellite & space debris tracking radars). (obviously Al's definition of "toys" is abnormal not the same as mine. My toys would be a catalog, a beach umbrella and some 3-D glasses. And maybe a pool boy.


9) Every day is casual day - shorts, tee-shirts and sneakers for work. (I could deal with that. Fer sure.)


10) WWII artifacts and history everywhere. (Meh. More boy toys.)





Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of minuses associated with this kind of living and some people here make a career out of finding/vocalizing all the negatives. I try to take the good with the bad. I'll send some photos soon, like maybe next week, or the next week, or.........whenever. Procrastionation is an art form I've perfected into a science. Love,Al

Big Sis K & little sis Stew will be travelling to Roi in a week. One of them may have an exceptionally heavy carry on bag. If you don't hear from me for awhile it's because I'm stuffed in a tote bag with my flip flops. I don't think I can blog from inside a tote bag stuffed under an airplane seat but we'll see....

Was Gonna

Nothing nothing nothing could get my mom's head to spinning accompanied by the required flames-shooting-from-the-eyeballs-hair-on-fire spazz attack hissy fit she'd throw when one of her angels childrens would utter those Words of Doom....

"I was gonna........."( take out the trash/feed the dog/)you get the picture.....

Well. I was gonna had planned to get a whole buncha bloggy things written so I could just be a lazy well-organized blogger and just hit "Publish" when it was time to post something new...

Uh-huh. I was gonna get the living room painted. Right after the family room got finished (it's been 5-6-12 years since THAT project was started...) I did get a couple of things done on my long list of Things to Do Immediately ~ like add 28 1/2 sticky buns in equal proportions to my um er buns. My butt is so big and squishy all I need is some raisins and cinnamon to decorate it.

Yummy.

Thanks to all my bloggy friends that checked in periodically, it was nice to know that I have checker-inners friends out there!

January. A good month to hibernate eat cookies start over. Or at the very least get offa my butt and finish a project..this month's project was to make real food for dinner.

I strenuously object to schlepping to the grocery store, stuffing the cart full of the cheapest food possible (I always feel like the cavewoman hunting down and killing a week's worth of dinner) taking it home stuffing it in the fridge, taking something out of the fridge and cooking it. Blargh.

"Chicken? Again?"

Yep. I know, you're gonna sprout feathers. Anybody know how to make chicken taste like um well anything NOT chicken? Mr Sweetie (and millions of men everywhere) will thank you.

BTW the last time Mr. Sweetie was in the kitchen as an active participant was our first date....except for the one time that he made tuna casserole all by himself. For some reason the recipe called for flour. He grabbed the first plastic container with a white powdery substance in it and added it to the tuna glop.

no I wasn't home

no the white powdery stuff wasn't coke illegal.

It was confectioner's sugar.

I'm sure you'd rather hear what we cooked on our first date. Or how we met. you'd rather hear anything but what that tuna casserole tasted like. choke choke "it's not THAT bad honey" (gulp)

I Heart My SSS

Somewhere in Utah....is my very own Secret Santa! ( I'm over there on the right doin' the Happy Gift Dance) -->

I'LL BE BE GOOD I PROMISE.

I will not eat the yummmmmy Godiva chocolate before I take pictures.

I will not indulge in a super-size Starbucks Caramel Macchiato with a shot of expresso and flash my gift card at the barrista.....before I take pictures.

I will not fly to Wendy's with my Wendy's gift card (now I'm quivering with anticipation...)

and I cross my heart I won't go to Barnes and Noble and collapse in their comfy couches with a brand-spankin' new book and that box of Godiva goodness....

oh.......how long can I be good......thank you Secret Santa, you rock! I'll post pictures just as soon as this elf gig is over with ~ that Santa is a slave driver! thank you thank you thank you!

gonna have to go and do some snooping....who lives in Utah? hmmmmmmmmmmmm........

I Do Not Love Thee Dr. Farranelli

There are things from our past that rise up to remind us of where we have come from, small struggles, little triumphs, happy memories......and some not so happy......



My sincere apologies to the lady whose eardrum I burst by screaming and making gagging noises when I was taking her phone order......and saw this on the scratch paper I was using................




1.75 g O2 occupies 2L @ 1ATM. What is T?




1ATM = T(K)


1.75 g x 1mol O2 / 32gO2 = .0547





Chemistry homework circa 2001.

Tis The Season....and a Winner!

There are 577 unread posts in my reader.
There is a two day old turkey drying out in the fridge. We were planning on having a NotThanksgiving dinner here because Thanksgiving was at my sister's house many miles away.
One of the cats has been AWOL for four days. Not good.
CA wrote a song for me to sing while I scout the neighborhood looking for Sprout the idiot nose-biter wonder kitty.

come home sprootle
come home sprootle
come home right now!
Sprootle is such a poodle
come home and we will give you some food-le
poodle poodle poodle come home
sprootle oodle whoodle we miss you very very much.

CA is not four years old. Sprout is not a poodle. Whatever. She's still my baby.

I have not finished decorating the room at Ye Olde Tiny Mansion. Not the J'Ollie House, this one is a real live old mansion. They're having a Home for the Holidays Tour starting TOMORROW. Oh the pressure.... The deadline was yesterday. Ye Olde Tiny Mansions' decorating dictator director is cursing me out. She's probably saying "HECK DARN SHOOT" because she's a very nice person. I'll bet she's saying "faux faux faux" in her head........

I have vodka and no cranberry juice. Could be worse.

I STILL have to get my SSS giftie girl her goods. At least I got a list going on.... and it WILL be done and in the mail, I PROMISE.

OH! AND! BUT! We DO have a winner for the Big Count the Wrinkles Guess the Year contest....

.........drumroll............

didja guess? ..................

oh, crap, my ten minutes is up.................

..................it's.........................

BLARNEY!

Congrats! As soon as Santa quits cracking the whip I'll sneak your goodies out to the mailbox!

Signature Magic!

I'm technically challenged, but this is easy and q.u.i.c.k!

I love signatures and personalized blogs. Pictures, bling, all that time-eating fun stuff. Since I'm on blog restriction and only have ten minutes I can share this.

Go to http://www.mylivesignature.com/.

Find "Click here to start."
Then click on "Create a new signature using our wizard."

Clickety-clickety-click. Easy peasy.
Pick a font and font size, the color, and the slope of the signature.
Then you get to a page that says "Signature is ready" and an option that says "Do you want to use this code." Click on that. There are code options for HTML or BB.
Click on "Generate HTML Code"
On the next page it'll show you a Signature Preveiw. And the HTML Code.
At the bottom of the page you'll see "Click here to read how to add your HTML signature in blogs." Clickety-click click. This is a one time add-on so you have to do it every time you post. There are more instructions so you can have your signature show up every time, but I only have ten minutes and must do things repeatedly anyway....OCD can be fun! I'm not going to do the time-consuming stuff but the instructions are on the website so if you can follow them your signature will show up where you want it when you want it. That part looked fairly easy too.
The fun part is that you can do phrases or anything you please! I can't wait to see what Tiffany writes with her wizard pen!
time's up. back to work, the elves are getting cranky and Santa's giving me the stinkeye. Have a great day!

Merry SITSmas!

Ho Ho Ho! Santa Claus is coming to town early! The SITS girls have put on their Santa hats and come up with a great giveaway & shameless promotion of Busy Mom Businesses!

Jump over to SITS for a whole day of Christmas giveaways & discounts (ahem. Check out J'Ollie Primitives' giveaway and their secret discount code WISHLIST on SITS' blog!)

There are HOURLY Giveaways ALL DAY!

The GRAND PRIZE from the SITSAS is a $200.00 Target gift card! AND you could be a Featured Blogger on their Friday Favorite!

I'll be posting the winner of the count the wrinkles Guess the Year contest tomorrow. (I'm late, I stink, sorry)

Our Christmas wish for you ~ Peace, Love, & Joy

If you're on the SITS bloggy trail, Princess & Pickles is in front of me, and Anna is up next! (Shaking fist at Mr. Linky)

Welcome to AnonyBlog!

Somebody mentioned on their blog that they weren't all that ecstatic about the mandatory holiday visiting with in-laws, out-laws, friends and foes. That she needed a private blog to vent about it anonymously. And that she wouldn't mention anything ~ well ~ that could be traced back to the author.

Welcome to AnonyBlog! Got something you want to vent about but you can't because "that person" might read your blog and be offended? Got something to say? Do you just like visiting? Come on over and do a guest post!

The holidays are upon us. We're getting busy. I have ten minutes to jump into BlogLand, read a post, comment, heave myself out of the Office Chair of Doom and get back to work. This means I get ten minutes to post something.

I need blog fodder, people.

Time's up.

Reach Out and Touch Somebody's.....Blog!

OK, everybody, join hands and start humming "Reach Out and Touch Somebody's Hand" as we record the MotherLode of MeMes!

I would have downloaded a Real Singer from YouTube to do the backup but they were annoying. Sorry Diana Ross, that does include you. talk about being upstaged.....

My fellow nurse Tenakim tagged me for this awesome meme.....I'm so excited that I've put down my paintbrush and plunked down in the Office Chair of Doom....once I sit here there is a good chance that I will not be seen or heard from for several hours.....

Rule 1. List the first ten people who have commented on one of your blog posts.

1.) Mrs. Tee @ My Delighful Home ~ I could be her twin except I don't cook, decorate or even attempt to finish a project.....this girl has Martha Stewart afeared and ascared of being upstaged...

2.) Miss Liberty all the way up in Canada @ Liberty Post ~ Oh.My.Goodness. She's smart, funny, takes photos that will make you drool (ok maybe not THAT photo) To me she is Blogging Nirvana. Go Forth and COMMENT on her awesomeness.

3.) My sentimental favorite, Carolina Girl @ Ramblings of a 30-Something Year Old Single Girl She commented on a post when all I said was "I got nothin", she gave me my first Butt Kicker Award, and she can ramble like no other. Maybe if I butter her up enough I can visit her in sunny South Carolina !

4.) Carrie @ The Gremlin Wrangler Another awesome photographer. Watch her juggle work, wrangle four home-schooled kids, work and life in general. She sends hilarious letters to her customers that will make you laugh.

5.) Rhea. The one with the rockin' pink cowgirl hat @ Texas Word Tangle. This girl can make cleaning toilets a little more bearable. Obi Wan-Kenobi just gave her a pink light saber to guide her through the darkness...uh, to match that awesome hat.

6.) Mama Kat, the attention-craving poodle over @ Mama's Losin' It. The Queen of Blogdom, Writer's Workshops, and opener of a can of whoop-ass on whatever issue might be bothering her a little. Go see her call the ad execs at Motrin ninny-poops.

7.) and of course the beloved and very-much-missed (she's been on a CRUISE, we should be jealous and green but we love her too stinkin' much) *JJBB*! JillJillBoBill got me hooked when she posted about stealing amybobamey's name...jjbb was all "By this time I am sweating profusely and getting cotton mouth.My worst fear has come true. I am a COPY-CATTER. Only accidentally." What's not to love about jjbb? I wonder if she brought me a souvenier.....

8.) Another All-Time Absolute Hands-Down FAVORITE ~ the sparkling Snooty Primadona! This woman has had several lives in one lifetime. Adventure, drama, tragedy, and joy all wrapped up in one wonderful snooty package. She.Is.Fabulous. AND she cooks like a diva!

9.) Mama Cracked blogs about life and motherhood, frugal finds and big wishes. It's been far too long since I've visited her blog.

10.) whew! Last but but not least is the wonderful Manic Mariah! She weaves such poetic images....dreamy fantasies of lavender and moon dust.....and brings us back to reality with a thump when her bird's butt gets sewn up. If that's not reason enough to visit her, Grandma Pearl is.

***What is your favorite post from #3's blog?

This one.....the First Date Recap. What can I say, I am a huge sucker for romance. *Sigh*

***Has #10 taken any pictures that have moved you?

Too many to count. This one, this one, and this one. I could go on.

***Does #6 reply to comments on their blog?

About as often as I comment on hers, which hasn't been too often lately. When MamaKat has 122 comments every time she posts something, she shouldn't have to return the compliment. She'd never get anything done and would have a terrible case of butt-itis from sitting at the computer all day.

***Which part of Blogland is #2 from?

Canada! I didn't even have to look that one up! yay me!

***If you could give one piece of advice to #7 what would it be?

I would advise her to take all of us on a cruise the next time she gets it in her head that she wants to get on a large boat with no Internet connection.

***Have you ever tried something from #9's blog?

She decorates. I live in a warehouse/zoo. She's frugal. I'm so cheap I don't buy anything that does not ensure survival. She has reveiws for toddler toys. Now those could be fun! BATHTUB CRAYONS! looooove them!

***Has #1 blogged something that inspired you?

Yummy Pumpkin Cake, I mean *bread* A beautiful (clean) kitchen. Gauzy ribbons tied around chairs. I'm so dreamin'. Considering I'm NOT cooking, cleaning or doing anything domestically productive....

***How often do you comment on #4's blog?

I've been kinda sadly lacking in the comments to Carrie department lately. now I kinda feel bad. Pardon me while I go comment.

***Do you wait excitedly for #8 to post?

Heck yes! Because we are all maturt like that. Snooty always has something interesting to say.


***How did #5's blog change your life?

Color. She inspired me to change up the color on my posts. "Cuz it's pretty. Small steps, people, I just learned how to copy & paste last year....

***Do you know any of your 10 bloggers in person?

Not yet!

***Do any of your 10 know each other?

Only in Blog Land, not IRL.


***Out of the 10, which updates more frequently?

They're all frequent, if not DAILY. *One more thing to aspire to*

***Which of the 10 keep you laughing?

Snooty, Mariah, Carolina Girl, JJBB, MamaKat, Rhea and Carrie are all conspiring to make their readers happy. Sometimes so dang happy-you-pee-a-little-or-spit-coffee-on-the-keyboard-happy. Either one is a huge compliment.

***Which of the 10 made you cry (good or bad) tears?

Those guys up there on the last question. It's a conspiracy, I tell ya. Some folks have written so provocatively about their past you just can't help but get a little weepy. Some posts are so funny that I'm crying and laughing and scaring the cats. Often it's in the same post.

Play on, I am played out!


Remember to enter yourself in the contest!

Give A Gift, Win A Gift! Guess the Year!

When doing your Christmas cards this year, take just one card and send it to this address.
Pass this on! Sorry for the lengthy amount of info below.

Send a Christmas card to any service member! A card letting them know that they are appreciated means so much. When you are writing your Christmas cards please send one to the address below:

Holiday Mail for Heroes
PO Box 5456
Capitol Heights, MD
20791-5456

Please follow these guidelines to ensure that your card will quickly reach service members.
All cards must be postmarked no later than Wednesday, December 10, 2008.
Participants are encouraged to limit the number of cards they submit. If you are mailing a large quantity, please bundle the cards and place them in large mailing envelopes. Each card does not need its own envelope or postage.
Please ensure that all cards are signed.
Please use generic salutations such as “Dear Service Member.” Keep messages short.
Please do not include email or home addresses on the cards.
Please do not include inserts of any kind, including photos, as these items will be removed during the reviewing process.
Phone Cards and Care Packages won't be accepted with the holiday cards. Those wishing to send calling cards or gift cards/certificates should go to http://www.aafes.com/, scroll down to "AAFES Community Connection" and click on "Help Our Troops Call Home."

Go to http://www.americasupportsyou.com/ and click under "Homefront Groups" to find out how to send care packages.

Please pass it on! I'll be posting addresses for our overseas soldiers and sailors soon.

And now for the CONTEST! All you have to do is guess the year this picture was taken.

Easy peasy, right? you could guess that it had been over a week since I took a shower judging by the state of my hair but we won't go there.

Post a comment with your guess. Pre-WWII year guesses do not count and will be frowned upon by the blog administrator. I'm not THAT old.

Anybody coming remotely close within three years of the correct year will have their name thrown into the hat. You can guess the same year that another commenter entered! I might shamelessly copy-dog nikkicrumpet and have my boys Frank and Magoo pick the big winner.....on second thought they'd eat up all of the names so fast there wouldn't be a chance of establishing a winner.

The winner of the Last Known Picture of Linda With a Waistline will be randomly selected on Sunday November 30th.

Fabulous prizes will be dispensed. Chocolate, Christmas goodies, and joy in a box will be sent to the winner. You must have a US address and an email or blog address so I can contact you.

Leave me a comment with your Guess the Year and don't forget! Send a Christmas card to one of our servicemen and women! Good luck!

ETA: Frizzy at Heaven's Gift has Care Package addresses that cover many needs, including blankets, adaptive clothing for wounded servicemen, and supportive technology for our troops. If a card doesn't do enough, please check out the links on her blogsite.

Technically Challenged

What I don't know about computers could fill a book. Or a library.

A sixth-grader taught me how to open my own email account and how to get on the internet.
Do not ask a sixth-grader how to compose a new email account address.
I joined a Working Women's Group at church. One of the first things we were asked for was our email address so we could get updates on the next meeting, church fund-raisers and all of the information that we needed.
Lady #1 announced her email address was sadiehawkins@centel.blabla.net.
The next one proudly stated that her address was genesimmons@prominentbankinginstitution.com
So on and so forth. All of them used a real name and a respectable internet provider address.
Me? I had to hang my head in shame and mumble puggylover@hotmail.com .

I love pugs. But saying "lover" and "hot" in church just seemed w.r.o.n.g.

Then I found eBay.

There was a group of botanical prints that I wanted. Really really wanted. Somebody else wanted it too.
I think the bid was up to fourteen bucks.
I typed in 16.00.
The computer froze.
Typed it in again.
The zeros wouldn't show up.
I banged on that zero key in a desperate attempt to WIN THAT PRINT.
My bid finally showed up.
16000.
16 thousand.
dollars
oooops.
The Other Bidder lost.

Up Or Down?

Mr Sweetie is a polite and considerate person.

Really.

Being polite and considerate he likes to leave the toilet lid in the non-functional but aesthetically pleasing DOWN position.

I'm more in favor of the less aesthetically pleasing but fully functional Leave It Up So I Can Make It There Quick position.

We have two bathrooms. One is conveniently located two giant steps away from the Office. This is very important when I have guzzled forty-eleven cups of coffee before 8 AM.

The other bathroom is about a mile away, further if you've had more than your fair share of caffeine.

Sadly the convenient bathroom is out of comission. First there was a minor leak. Then a big flood.




Do you know the rules of gravity? That "shit rolls down hill" theory?

Water follows the same rules.

Duh.

My FIL came over yesterday to "fix" the toilet.

Mr. Sweetie elected to have some manly assistance because he has issues with my ability to follow directions. And his two bum shoulders do not appreciate lifting a toilet's weight.

FIL says "Uh-oh"

The subfloor is wet. Because water just had to follow the rules.

The throne is now majestically parked in the middle of the bathroom. The subfloor is drying. Slowly.

Look on the bright side. Now I can finish the paint job I started ten years ago.

Bead board. Wouldn't bead board look GREAT in there? Maybe a new sink too. I never did like that sink.

I think some new towels might be in order. Since the good ones are in a heap on the floor after being used to mop up toilet water. Just sayin'.

Anyway. In the meantime I'm going to have to:
a.) cut down on the coffee (not an option)

b.) run faster (not happening)




vault the dog gate and whiz (heh heh) into the far-away bathroom.

Where the lid is aesthetically.stubbornly.irritatingly. DOWN.

Please God don't let me pee on the seat.

'Cause I'm the Cleaner-Upper and I don't want to go there.

Fur Babies

I used to love to travel. The Army had a slogan. FTA. Fun Travel Adventure. Once I joined, I found that FTA stood for a different acronym. I'll leave that one to your imagination. If you can't figure it out I'll email it to you. 'Cuz we only say Faux on this here blog.



One of the places we ended up was Oklahoma. I earned my nursing degree and a divorce decree in Oklahoma. *sing that to a country tune, it's a sure hit*
Hi Tiffany!

My ex didn't want anything. I sure didn't want anything either. I put up a big old MOVING sale in front of the house and sold everything off. One unintentional thing that went with the furniture was my daughter C.A.'s cat. Either she was hiding in the dresser as it went out the door, or she escaped during the Great Furniture Evacuation.



We ended up at the local APL hoping to find Sadie. I think maybe she met the Rottweiler next door but I wouldn't say that to a four-year old. We found.....Wild Bill.
Bill looked like a small bear. I thought he would eat up my precious little daughter.

He didn't. We took him home to Ohio. Clementine came too. (that's Bill on the right with the pearls. W.i.l.d. Bill). (not really, but it could be him)

Years passed. The Zoo got bigger. I'm a sucker for beasties...Mr. Magoo. Sprout. Rosie & Luna. Frank. Pierre. Ollie. There is a NO MORE PETS rule at the J'Ollie Home. Ollie was a rule breaker. Dang him.

WHO brought all of these beasties home? C.A. The one beastie who no longer lives here at least she doesn't live here THIS MINUTE. Things change.
WHO called the other night to say "Guess what? I'm fostering two kitties! They are so stinkin' cuuuuute!" *insert baby talk to stinkin' cute kitties here*

We had a breif but meaningful discussion on the definitions of FOSTERING and KEEPING.

No.More.Pets.Not.Even.One.Much.Less.Two.

The point to this post? Go to the top left corner. There's a purple button there. Click on it. Go on, click it. There. You've just filled .6 bowls of food in an animal shelter. Clicking that button will take you to a web site. You just click on one more button to feed an animal. For every click the web sponsors will pay for .6 bowls of food. The Food Lady thanks you. The shelter animals thank you. About those two foster kitties.........they will be given as Fabulous Prizes to the first taker.

Don't You Hate It When....

You go to the grocery store and fill up your cart with a month's worth of groceries.

well it looks like a month's worth

using your list and your carefully planned monthly menus.

as if yeah right, totally wingin' it on the menu

You *sigh* at the cash register as you surrender your $$$

Take it all home, put it away and feel a sense of accomplishment at once again providing
your family with sustenance ~

late at night looking in the fridge a little whiney voice says

"there's nothing to eat........"

and that little whiney voice is your own?

Yeah, me too.

Shelle over at BlokThoughts is hosting "Don't You Hate It When....." Monday November 17th. Go on over and check her out, and remember to VOTE on Tuesday. For the Don't You Hate It When Winner, not the Prez. Been there done that.

Oh No He Didn't

Faux (pronounced /ˈfoʊ/, like "foe") is a French word for false or fake. It is often used in English phrases such as faux pearls, faux fur, and faux pas.


Except when you go to the hardware store with your Significant Other and he picks up a flyer that advertises a FAUX painting class and says........

"hey! a F***K painting class! Sounds like something you might want to try, honey!"

picture me with a faux smile plastered to my face.

If I weren't so cranky hormonally challenged it would have been amusing.

thank goodness the store was full of men who didn't know how to pronounce it either.

Please Excuse Me From Monday....

Remember those carefully forged notes we had to take to school to excuse our absences?



Dear Teacher Followers Friends,

Please excuse J'Ollie Linda from school posting today. She is not feeling Jolly. Her head is spinning like Linda Blair from The Excorsist and she is going batshit crazy if anybody so much as asks for a matching pair of socks. She is only being pretend nice to get through the day without hurting any feelings. And her fonts are misbehaving.

too bad that won't get me out of work. Darn.

Stealth Mommies

In an effort to remind our children that they have parents who refuse to grow up, here comes a True Story.
My little sister lives about five houses down from me. She has all the cool toys. Nintendo, Wii, the biggest TV on the block....oh. Maybe I should say her hubbie has them. But he shares.

My sisters and their kids were visiting at my house one November evening. It was Indian summer. We were all feeling a little Indian summer fever ~ kind of like spring fever when you feel motivated to get outside and enjoy the weather. The kids took advantage of the warm evening by walking all.the.way. to Stew's house to watch a movie and play with the cool toys.

Because we're mature and parent-like we thought up a totally lame fun prank. The kids said they were going to watch Halloween or Friday the 13th. Some movie where there's always a boogeyman sneaking up on the unsuspecting fool kid innocently minding their own business.



We were going to scare the beejeezus out of our innocent childrens.



I think it was Big Sis K. "Let's put nylons over our heads and act like we're burglars. We can sneak up to Stew's house and peek in the window and make burglar noises!"



None of us really knew any good burglar noises but we had fun cutting up my stockings and admiring ourselves in the mirror with them pulled over our faces. We thought we looked pretty darn scary.



Stew tends to snort when she laughs. BS K. goes "BWAAAHAAHAAHAAAHAAA" and I sound like I'm choking and gasping for my last breath.Try holding in that kind of noise when the sisters are acting the fool. It ain't easy.
We oh-so-quietly sneaked around the back of Stew's house and ducked under the window. Quick peek ~ innocent children are strewn about the couches, the Scary Movie Music is blasting.....

the plan was to s-l-o-w-l-y rise up and scare the crap out of the kids with our masks and our frightening noises when they saw us at the window.

"BWAAAHAAHAAAHAAAHA.snort.gasp.choke" We lost it. We were too busy laughing to be frightening. Dang.

"Oh. Hi, Mom" said a kid.

and they alllll turned back to the TV like their moms were acting normal.......

which maybe we were.

Advice From Dr. Gin and Dr Tonic

Subject: Health Alert for Women

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?

Do you suffer from shyness?

Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask yourbartender doctor or pharmacist about Margaritas. Margaritas are the natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions.

Margaritas can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of Margaritas almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.

Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had.

Stop hiding and start living, with Margaritas.

Margaritas may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or

nursing should not use Margaritas.

However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include:

- Dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration

- Erotic lustfulness

- Loss of motor control

- Loss of clothing

- Loss of money

- Loss of virginity

- Attraction to the same sex

- Table dancing

- Headache

- Dehydration

- Dry mouth

- And a desire to sing Karaoke

WARNING:The consumption of Margaritas may make you think you are whispering

when you are not.

WARNING:The consumption of Margaritas may cause you to tell your friends

over and over again that you love them.

WARNING:The consumption of Margaritas may cause you to think you can sing.

WARNING :The consumption of Margaritas may make you think you can logically

converse with members of the opposite sex without

spitting.

PLEASE NOTE: Extensive research reveals that Appletinis, Cosmopolitans, and Long Island Iced Tea are as effective if not better than Margaritas.

thanks to Big Sis K for the health alert today!

Oh No It's A Tissue Post

Mom died eight years ago. It seems like yesterday and it seems like forever.
She was no saint, although her kids like to put her on a pedestal.
She loved us enough to allow us to make our own mistakes, and fix them ourselves.
She loved to laugh and eat ice cream. Simultaneously if possible.
She had a steel backbone and a gold heart.
She knitted mittens and hats for her chemo nurses.
She was a horrible housekeeper who loved to have friends visit.
The closest she ever came to saying "I love you" was "I appreciate you."
We knew it anyway.




A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
enough
money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
something
perfect to wear if the employer
or date of her dreams
wants to see her in an hour....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
a youth she's content to leave behind...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a past juicy
enough
that she's looking forward to
retelling it in her old age...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill
and a black lace bra....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
one friend who
always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a good piece
of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her
family....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
eight
matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for
a meal
that will make her guests feel honored...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a feeling of
control over her destiny...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
how to quit
a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend
without
ruining the frindship...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
when to try harder
and when to walk away...


EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
that her childhood may not have been perfect...
but it's over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she
would and wouldn't do for love or more...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW....
how to live alone...
even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
whom she can trust,
whom she can't,
and why she shouldn't take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
where to
go...
be it to her best friend's kitchen table..
or a
charming Inn in the woods.... when her soul needs
soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
What she can and can't accomplish in a day...
a
month...and a year...

Maya Angelou


*"Another thing. If you're missing me I want you to know I'm not missing you.Gone is gone.I never miss anyone or anything because it all becomes a lovely memory. I guard my memories and love them, but I don't get in them and lie down."
Ole Golly Waldenstein*

*from Louise Fitzhugh's "Harriet the Spy"

Mom is having a great time romping around in Heaven with my dad. Every time she'd see a penny on the ground she'd say "Pennies from Heaven!" There's one penny that's been in my driveway for the past eight years. It moves around, but I usually see it somewhere near my car. I like to think it's her way of saying Hi every once in awhile. Hi, Mom!

It Was A Wonderful Life

Goodbye, Studs. You'll be missed.

I first got acquainted with you when I was 17.
Working: An Oral History ~"People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do."
I still have that yellowed and dog-eared book with my loopy teen-aged handwriting claiming the book as mine. It's travelled with me to Texas, Germany, Oklahoma and back home to Ohio. It's holding up pretty well for a thirty year old paperback.
Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression.
Will the Circle Be Unbroken: Reflections on Death, Rebirth and Hunger for a Faith.
I've read this one at least ten times since my mom passed. It helps.
Studs Terkel died in his home on October 31st at the age of 96. He spent a great deal of his life listening to people and recording their thoughts.
A lifetime of listening. A legacy of listening in his books.

Happy HalloWhat?

My daughter called this evening to tell me all about her Halloween costume. It was only her eighth call today. Her record is 26 calls but that's because she was at work at the Crisis Center and she'd have to hang up and deal with somebody's problems and then call me back to continue our conversation.

She: "I couldn't find anything at Spooky Central or CrapMart so I ordered a costume online."
Wonderful Mom: "Oh that's nice dear. What did you order?
She: "I'm not a deer. I wish you wouldn't call me deer. I don't have antlers."
WM: (gritting teeth) "Sorry de--honey. What did you order?"
She: "MOOOooooOOMMMM, I TOLD you what I ordered when I ordered it."
WM: "When did you order a costume?"
She: " Last week. Remember?"
*crickets*
WM: "Well, what's it look like?"
She: "I'm emailing you a picture. It's Batgirl but it's not as skeevy as the picture looks. Wait, let me try it on." (rustling and sounds of beer cans unidentified objects falling as she changes into Batgirl ensemble.)

She: "Crappers. The top is fine but the pants would fit a 6-foot-tall man. Oh well, it's going back. It's a dumb costume. Hey BlaBla is on the phone, let me call you back."

*ring ring*

She: Hey Mom, I'm going BlaBla's and we're gonna go to the party. I'm not going to go in a costume unless BlaBla has something I can use, she's got a few."

WM: "What's BlaBla's costume?"

She: "She made her own costume, isn't that cool? She's going as a Korean!"

WM: (what? that's so not PC) "She's going as a Korean?

She: (howling and laughing) "A CRAYON!" (yeah, a kuh-ray-on.)

Oh. Never mind.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

budget

Ha. Budget. I bought a butt roast because it was on sale. I'd never bought one before (ewww, butt?) but figured it could go in the crock pot...a 10 pound roast. Or it was $10.00. Something like that. Five pounds of fat removal later I am the proud owner of a crock pot full of shredded meat. I still can't get myself to try it.

Budget my butt.

I'm eating peanut butter.

oh ha ha I made a funny peanut butt-er.

ETA we ate it. It really wasn't bad. Considering that it used to be somebody's backside and all.

....and I Thought I Had Problems.........

I'll come into the office with a purpose. Usually to get the pen that I left behind, or to check Google stats answer an email.

If I sit down in front of the computer long enough to hit "reply" my sneaky right hand invariably manages to hit the "open new window" button and somebody's blog will appear. How'd that get there? I'll check on just one blog. Then another.
And another.


It's the "Just One Potato Chip Theory" gone cyber.
Betcha can't read just one.


Jen from Buried With Children was nice and left me a comment. I visited her blog for just a minute and travelled on.


I ended up at a little spot aptly named I Am Neurotic.


And I thought I had problems.


I'd never wear shortsleeved shirts when I was a kid because I have pointy elbows.


My sister cuts every teeny tiny bit of white stuff off of whatever she's getting ready to cook for dinner. She thinks it's fat and can't tolerate the idea of swallowing it. But pink and white hamburger is OK. (Hey Stew, that really is fat.) Now I've grossed her out.


One of my friends must drive in the passing lane at all times on the highway. Doing 50 mph.
I found this out by letting her drive ONCE. That was a long trip with many rude-finger salutes from the drivers passing us on the right.


Spending more than a couple of minutes in the kitchen gives Mr. Sweetie the heebie-jeebies. He says it's the critters under his feet. I say it's because I'm going to put an apron on him and make him cook.

One of the dogs cannot go out the front door without sitting down to give himself a good scratching. This creates a doggy traffic jam.

The other dog is darn near blind a little nearsighted. If anything is out of place on the path to the front door he'll invariably run into it. (See above.)


My BFF will not get on a plane. We have driven two days to avoid a four-hour plane trip.


I used to date a blind guy. Going down stairs he'd tap his foot on the step before stepping down to make sure it was there. I find myself doing the same thing years later and I can see perfectly well.

One of the residents in the nursing home I worked at refused to get into an elevator. Ever. She had never been in one and wasn't going to start anytime soon.

Is thumb-twiddling neurotic? I twiddle when I'm the passenger in my daughter's car. It's the only time I do it. Drives her insane.

My brother cannot tolerate large groups of people, even if it's his family. This is the same guy that spent five-plus years on a ship in the Navy with umm large groups of people. He now lives on a tiny tiny island population 143. Hmmmm. Maybe it's just the "family" part that he can't tolerate. (just kidding Al)

What do you do that you can't not do?