Saturday, February 28, 2009

Fleece the public

I'm a wee bit jealous of Octo-Mom, Nadya Suleman. How you say? Well it certainly is not from all the negative publicity and death threats she is accumulating. And not the fact that she has 14 children, no job, no home and no reality show offers. Her income is derived from taxpayer monies - like mine. I hear she will be writing a book in the near future.
My green jealousy comes from the fact that she has her nails professionally done in a lovely 'french manicure.' She has no job and no visible means of income and she has her nails done and that does not come cheap.
I work and cannot afford to have my nails done. Something is terribly wrong with this situation. I want nice manicured nails like her. There is no money in my budget for that so I needed to improvise. And that I did or tried.
I purchased the 'do-it-yerself' french manicure kit. The cost was about $7.00. I will go without my afternoon snack at the vending machine for several months. Not using the vending machine is a good thing because it still contains many peanut butter products that should have been removed from society.
With a little gleam in my baby blues I read the directions on the 'french manicure' kit. I followed the directions to the 'T'. Something went drastically wrong. The white polish does not come off tables, toes or skin. I have scrubbed and scrubbed and still the white lumpy polish will not budge.
I am so displeased with this so called easy manicure kit that I almost tossed the whole mess in the trash. Then, I remembered I shelled out $7.00 and had to give up my afternoon treats from the office vending machine.
Perhaps I could ship the 'french manicure' kit to Nadya and she could do her own nails and not use taxpayers money. Perhaps I could quit my job pop out a dozen or more kids and have my nails done by a professional using taxpayers money. Maybe I'll just wear gloves or use a clear nail polish from the dollar store.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Shower with a friend - save water

My arm is a little sore and tender and my depression is humongous. Woe is me. Get over it!
I was in desperate need of a shower but sort of kind of unable to do it alone. My Knight in Shining Armor (Hubby) to the rescue. I donned the plastic bag on my arm and stepped into his loving arms. Actually I really forced myself on to him and he went with the flow. We have an awesome rain shower thingy in the shower that flows like the monsoons. But also conserves water. I am not water wasteful!
It's wonderful when someone else washes your hair and it's magic when someone you love washes your hair. It sent tingles down my spine - wait that was pain from my lower back. Whatever. A truly exciting experience. The hair washing not the pain in my spine.
I feel refreshed and sparkly clean. Thank you Rob-in-Hood.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Flying Rats

I'm walking nonchalantly through the parking lot to buy groceries enjoying the beautiful sunshine and great weather. It's a Florida thing. Puffy white clouds bright sun and a slight gulf breeze were just mesmerizing. I found a parking space close to the door. I'm enjoying life and ignoring the pain in my arm from the surgery. I'm heading to the pharmacy to retrieve my prescriptions to ease the dull arm ache and kill any bad germs that may be attacking my innards.
The fact that I took an entire day off from work also may me giddy.
All of a sudden just like the Alfred Hitchcock movie, 'The Birds', with Tippi Hedron, - they came - out of nowhere. A gigantus flock of them flying ever so low over the parking lot and my head. The ultimate displeasure happened. Plop. Right on my head and dribbling down my face. OMG. The flying rats were dumping their waste right on top of me and it wasn't coming from their beaks. How embarrassing - how demeaning - how disgusting. What to do? I need that medicine and I need it now!
I pondered the situation and realized my pain needed drugs. I strutted right inside the store grabbed several of the wipes that they keep by the front door to remove fecal matter from the grocery carts and I started wiping. Actually I used half of the canister. I did one last wipe of my hands and strolled right up to the prescription drop-off counter. The pharmacist gave me a strange look but I stood my ground. I waited impatiently in line for my prescriptions and ignored the stares and whispers. My payback for taking the entire day off????

Monday, February 23, 2009

Emerald City

Sometimes I feel like the Scarecrow on the Wizard of Oz. It's not exactly that I don't have a brain it's just that at times it is non-functional. I forget things, I misplace things, I lose things, I break things (unintentionally) I have brain blanks and CRS.

I try to keep my world organized to help the situation until I get to conference with the Great Wizard of Oz. That is not always easy. The sticky notes I write are eaten by the dog just like my homework. The funny thing is my dog does eat homework, sticky notes and anything edible including plastic toys.

My latest disaster was last night just before dusk when hubby and I went on a bike ride. A harmless task one would think. First I unfolded both of the folding bikes. I didn't realize there is a lock on the handlebars that needs to be set in motion. OOOPS. They held in place with no help from my handy work. Hubby pointed out my mistake when we returned home and I realized my cell phone was missing.

I had placed it in my pocket or did I? I ran through the housing searching. I called my number and listened for it to ring inside the house. I searched for my phone case. Sometimes I clip my case to my waistband. My case was no one to be found that is if I left it in the designated phone case spot.

I jumped in the truck it's now almost dark. I drive frantically while hubby is the lookout man for a black phone case holding a brand new pink cell phone. What if someone picked it up and used all my minutes. I do not have roll over minutes. What if a car rolled over my lovely new pink cell phone. Talk about roll over minutes! So many negative things could have happened to my phone and I thought of them all.

"Stop, go back. I see something in the gutter," yells hubby. I turn the car almost taking down a stop sign to find an orange candy wrapper lying useless on the side of the road.

I turn onto the main road driving at a snails pace and I see a car on my bumper. There's no place to pull over and he's driving like a maniac. If I let him pass he is surely destined to crush my phone with his funny looking tires.

I make a right turn following the path we took on the folding but not unfolded properly route. And we both see a small object in the middle of the road. My Knight in shining arm leaps from the truck and scoops up my new pink cell phone encased in its sturdy black case.

I open the case and run my shaking hands over the shiny pink phone and flip er open. Lights, camera, action - she works. I am sooooo lucky.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Silence is golden

A home should be quiet and relaxing. It should be a place where one can go let their hair down and chill. That doesn't often happen at my home. It's noisy and at times resembles Grand Central Station.
In the bedroom I have an air cleaner that makes noise. I have a cool mist humidifier in the main living area and it's really noisy add the dishwasher and one cannot hear themselves think. Not that I want my thoughts exposed to some family members. The ice slash water in the refrigerate door also makes noise. The washer and dryer are noisy only on weekends or for an emergency washing. The televisions in all the rooms run constantly. If I forget to turn off the alarm that causes ear drum damage. Lest we not forget the smoke alarms when the batteries are getting low - beep-beep-beep.
The phones with all their different chimes and tones, the doorbell, the dog howling at the sirens, the cat screaming for her food. The vacuum cleaner is a noise blaster more worser than the kids music. I like the term - more worser. The morning doves chirping away and helicopters flying overhead. Neighbors talking a little too loud and the constant traffic driving down my dead end street. Stay off my cul-de-sac!
Then, the open door policy of the kid and his friends. And all their cell phones and texting and car doors slamming and general kid stuff noise.
I am just expecting a little peace and quiet in my home.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Bibs and Books

I think I have seen it all. Well, at least more than I want to see and acknowledge. Last night hubby and I went to dinner at a local cafe. It was extremely crowded and we had to wait for a table. We were seated next to an older couple perhaps in their late 50's early 60's. The woman reminded me of a country granny come to town on a Friday night. She had long snarly grey hair, thick glasses and an obnoxious know-it-all voice. Her grammar was backwoods along with her clothing. And as people were waiting for tables she was reading a book. I know - I'm being very judgemental and I detest that - but it is what it is.
I tried my best to ignore her but for some wack reason I kept watching the couple. When they both put on their over sized bibs I nearly fell on the floor. When their food arrived she demanded (not asked nicely) for more gravy. The server brought her more gravy in a bowl and She ate the gravy right from the bowl. Hence the bibs?
Still consumed with wonder I watched and listened to them. When she was done she brought out her book once again and began to read. Yes, people were still waiting for a table.
Why do people do what they do? That is the essential question. The answer is a mystery or at least an answer we don't want to admit. They're everywhere. You know what type of people I'm speaking about. Odd creatures make my life interesting.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Best Buddies

I am happy and sad at the same time. Happy that a wonderful young man has found a purpose in his life and feels very proud and sad because I know where he will be sent. Will he come home? Dead or alive, damaged or stronger.

Protecting our freedom certainly comes at a price. We are proud of you Jeremy. Come back to us safe and whole.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Home Security

I wonder if yesterday's run in with home security salespeople burnt my brain? Lately I do forget things, get lost in my own neighborhood and put the milk in the cupboard instead of the fridge. My mind is like a sponge, a dried up sea sponge.
We are a little strange in the fact that we lock doors inside our home. Long story that contains too much dirty laundry - family dysfunctions. We lock the one bedroom in our home that we refer to as - the computer room. Yes, it has several computers. He who cannot be named is not allowed in that room and is not allowed to use our computers. Teenagers and computers a nasty viral combination. Moving on!
We have one key to this locked room. Also hubby has all his clothes in that rooms closet. I get the master closet. LOL. The plan is to lock the room when we are not at home and at night when we hit the wonderful memory foam mattress. The important part of that plan is to put the one and only key in its special hiding place. One that we can remember.
Bright and early this morning I went to retrieve the key from that special place. Nothing. I searched the bedroom, the car, under the bed, in my underwear drawer. No key.
I knew right then where I had left the one and only key to the room. Inside the room.
Hubby needed his clothes to go to work and make money so we can try to support ourselves and relatives. And I needed my Internet morning fix.
The room was like Fort Knocks. LOL. No one not even the security team was getting inside that room. The door was not budging. Hubby removed the door handle. Nothing. He brought out the ice pick, the hammer, the crowbar. Nothing.
I'm feeling tremendous guilt for my lack of brain cells. What possessed me to lock the one and only key inside the room?
Finally after lots of banging and cursing hubby opened the door. We no longer have a door knob or a functioning door. I see dollar signs. Hubby walks in points to the one and only key sitting quietly on my desk and says, "There's the key."
He walks away. I can't be expected to remember everything. Perhaps we can purchase one of those spare key rocks and place a second key in there for safe keeping. Then, I would have to remember where I placed the rock.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Territorial Terror

We own or are owned by a 100 pound German Shepard. He is not Mr. Nice Guy. He loves his family - I think. Strangers and certain people he has an automatic dislike bulb that goes off in his pea brain. He's not the best behaved canine in the neighborhood. He hates other dogs and cats but co-exists with our cat. We have signs posted on all sides of our fence to warn intruders or others.

Big boy is never left outside unattended. I know his temperament and watch him carefully. Most of the time he is well behaved but you never know.

We were walking the big bruiser last night and when we arrived at our yard we let him off the leash. He likes to do his business in the front yard. Whatever?

Across the street two salesmen going door to door (what a horrible job) and they started to approach our house. Very politely I stated, "Please do not come in our yard. The dog is not friendly."

So is that a simple easy statement? I thought so. The one man started right toward our driveway and said, "I've been trained with dogs."

Not his dog. At this point in time I was a bit annoyed. I reiterated my statement. "Please do not come in my yard. This dog is not friendly."

Hello, what don't you understand? The man mumbled something and kept moving towards us. Hubby grabbed big boy and took him inside without his business being completed. Now, I am in total annoyance with salespeople.

I stated perhaps a little louder since he did not understand my pleasant talk. "Do not come in our yard."

Finally he walked away. This is my home, my yard and my domain. When I tell you to get lost please abide by my wishes. They were selling home security. LOL. I have my own and he weighs 100 pounds.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Woe is Me

I guess you could refer to me as 'copper top', or 'penny'. The box said dark blonde so I assumed (never do this) that meant dark blonde. Where in this equation does brassy copper red slide in and make me look so clownish.
I've washed my hair three times since this situation and still the brassy red prevails. I've sat in the sun all weekend and still the brassy red shines brightly on my locks. Perhaps after a few more washing and sun sitting the color will fade - just a little. I feel like Little Orphan Annie. Where is Daddy Warbucks?
My favorite phrase - 'this to shall pass', will keep my bottom lip from trembling. I'm afraid the passing will take a long time for my brassy headed mop top to fade into oblivion.
Oh! the embarrassment, the foolishness, the laughs that will scorch my world.
Only your hairdresser knows and the whole wide world also can figure out my predicament.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Happy Valentine's Day

My sweetie gave me my Valentine's gift this morning. It was a book, 'The School on Heart's Content Road', by Carolyn Chute one of my favorite authors. She has not written tons of books and the her first and most recent book took her 20 years each to write. I love her words, style and imagination.

So I get a book for the BIG day and I truly love books but where is the candy? I know I have told him in the past NO candy but that doesn't mean NO chocolate. Why don't guys get it? Women are from earth and guys are from the other side of reality.

So, to console myself I bought Dove chocolates. AAAHHHHHH. Milk chocolate - my favorite. I know I should be eating dark chocolate because dark chocolate makes us healthy - therefore it must have no calories.

Dove chocolate has cute and inspiring words of wit and wisdom on the inside wrapper. Mt first bit of charming inspiration said - 'Dance to the beat of life'. I love those words.

Dance to the beat of life.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!!!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Public Enemy #1

I went to the local hardware store to purchase new keys for the front door. A young man at the key counter was assisting me with the purchase. It was so hard to look directly at this clerk (with a straight face) and make conversation. I looked down, looked up and my eyes strayed to the wonderful display of keys. I made silly comments about the keys and the cost still avoiding his gaze. I toe tapped nervously as he made my keys.
I really wanted to pull a tissue out of my ear and wipe off that booger hanging from his nose. Would that have shattered his confidence? Could I still stand there while he was making my key after I wiped that booger off his face? Such a precarious spot to be in.
Would I want to walk around assisting the customers with a booger on my face? Would a co-worker let me know about my dilemma? Shoulda-coulda - but I just let the episode slip on by with silence. A booger hanging on the face is just not kool.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

What's in your wallet?

Are we drawn to negativity? Is there something in our DNA that points us toward a negative moment in time? Do we find satisfaction from reading about negativity? Do we feel we are better than those who are caught smack in the middle of a negative situation? Why are we so quick to judge someone or something surrounded by negativity?
Negativity sells newspapers. Negativity brings in viewers to television programs. Negativity shows the vulnerability of others. We can watch and condemn others and feel superior.
We survive in a negative world wrought by pain and suffering. We are voyeurs of deception. We view the world through our rose colored lenses and make judgments. We watch as those on top of the pedestal tumble to the ground and are thankful it is not us. We bask in the glory of our anonymity.
If we are surrounded by so much negativity when does it begin to eat away at our spirits? Do we follow the cows to their doom or do we take another path? I am intensely wondering what catches our attention and insulates our thoughts the most?
What’s in your wallet?

Monday, February 2, 2009

Glory Days

The half time entertainment for the super bowl was fantastic. I'm not a football fan or sports fan but I am a Bruce Springsteen fan. Way to go Boss.
A two hour concert by the Boss would have thrilled me more than watching grown men running around a field in tights and knocking each other down. I just don't get football?
The Super Bowl in Tampa was big stuff. Too bad the Florida football team wasn't in the playoffs.
Thinking about glory days....

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Cat Whisperer

Cats do not like change. At least my cat does not like any change. Several weeks ago the cat was banned from the bedroom due to my asthma. She still has not accepted that, under the bed was her secret hiding place. She is not a particularly friendly cat. She panics when strangers or anyone comes into the house.
Recently we rearranged the furniture in the family room. This action sent kitty into anxiety mode. Then we purchased a new refrigerator and more things in the house changed. This moved her up to the red level zone.
This past weekend we did spring cleaning and rearranged more furniture. Now, the old girl is in dire straits panic mode. She runs to the bedroom door and screams. She follows me around the house her eyes showing true terror. She cries. I reach down to pick her up and she bolts. The poor thing is desperate.
Yesterday she was missing most of the day. I was afraid the changes had pushed her over the edge and she fled her home to the wilds of suburbia. I walked through the family room searching beneath the couch and I noticed the throw on the back of the couch had a heartbeat. It was moving.
I lifted the corner of the throw and there she was cowering in terror. I patted her on the back and she seemed safe and secure.
Today more moving furniture and cleaning closets. She raced through the house crying like a wounded animal. I tried to calm her with no luck. Finally after chasing her through the house I captured her. I hugged her tight and spoke softly to her. I placed her on the back of the couch and covered her with the throw. She has been in that spot without moving for the entire morning. I guess under the throw is her new safety zone.
She is just a bizarre feline and we love her - sometimes. We need a cat whisperer.