Have y’all ever had a Freudian slip? No? Nah, me either.
Well, except this one time.
See, a very good friend of mine was about to get married. So, one sunny afternoon, Kat, her mother and I went shopping for wedding gowns. As we were browsing the endless aisles of white froth and lace, my eyes fastened on a miraculous creation of a gown. Soft, white, and delicately embroidered with purple flowers, the gown called to me, like a mother to a kid when it gets dark outside. “Kim! Kim! Look at meeeeeeee!!!!” And oh, how I looked.
Then, I turned directly towards Kat and her mother and said, “Next time I get married, I’m wearing this dress.”
“The NEXT time you get married?” K’s mom laughed.
Umm, yeah. I’d only been married for 2 years at the time.
I thought about that little conversation last night as hubby and I were watching “How I Met Your Mother”. The couple in the show was being forced to split and had decided to opt for a long distance relationship. So, of course, being a woman, I had to ask.
Me: “What would WE do if one of us had to move out of the country, if we weren’t married?”
Hubby: ”Well, I guess we’d either rush and get married and move together or split up.”
Me: “Do you think we could have a long distance relationship?”
Hubby: “I guess we could give it a go. If you moved, you’d have to stay single over there and I’d try to stay single back here.”
(Notice the try part of that statement.)
Guess we’re even now.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
The Leg Bone's Connected to the Hip Bone...
It was the summer of 87 and I was all of 8 years old. I remember that I had just learned how to ride a bike (yeah, a little late in life- what can I say), but didn't have one of my own. Instead, I depended on my good old buddy, Jason, to allow me to mooch bike privileges from him. It was so freeing to ride around with my hair blowing in the breeze. Until the damn thing turned on me.
We were taking turns zooming down Jason's driveway, which was at least a 45 degree angle and I was up. I jumped on the banana seat and was off. Problem was, I didn't make that turn that should have put me into the street and on a straight path of smoothness. Instead, I slammed into the curb of the driveway across the street and flew over the handle bars, landing on the concrete curb. Immediately, my friends ran for my parents, who then came rushing out, picked me up, got us in the car and took off for the hospital. My leg had swollen up to the size of a small Chilean boy and HURT. I mean, HURT, y’all.
Like most hospitals, they gave me a toy when I was admitted to the ER to help take my mind of the swollen-ness and hurt-y-ness of my leg. It was a ragdoll with a green dress and apron that I instantly fell in love with. She’s still tucked away in the attic, safe in my trunk of memories to be shown to the future generations. Like they’ll care, but whatever.
Now, to explain a little more clearly, this wasn’t just any bone that I had broken. Oh, no. It was the femur. Which, for those of you who don’t know, that’s the thigh bone. And it also happens to be the largest one in your body.
I was laid up in traction for the next 6 weeks. A pin was pushed through my left calf, just below the knee and was attached to a pulley with 10lbs of sand suspended from it. This was supposed to straighten the leg and ensure proper healing. I don’t know who came up with the idea of correcting a bone this way, but I hope they didn’t quit their day job. It sucked. Then came the body cast. You know that trend from a few years ago, where people shoved one pant leg way up and let the other hang normally? Picture that. Only 50lbs heavier and itchier. Very much itchier.
Going home was probably the worst part. As much as I missed it, I knew it was going to be down hill from there. My sisters teased me unmercifully, tickling the toes that I couldn’t even reach, moreless protect. Sometimes, I was toted outside to watch the others go swimming in the backyard (Did I mention it was July? H.O.T.). It was torture. But, the most embarassing things were not of any of my sisters’ doings. School registration came up while I was still mending and my mom had to pull me around with her in my little red wagon. On top of that, or maybe I should say under that, I was forced to wear adult diapers. They were the only things that fit over my cast and covered up my nevermind. Wait. What? I didn’t tell you that the cast had a big hole cut in the crotch for bathroom purposes? Well, in that case, I won’t mention how my poor mother had to lay me across the commode in order to take care of business and that by the end of summer, all the toilets in our house were roughed up and the paint was gone from the harsh plaster scraping it. No, I don’t think I want to talk about that.
7 weeks later, it was time to get the thing cut off. Now, if you’ve had a cast removed, you’ll understand what I’m talking about. The nurse comes at you with a circular saw buzzing at about 200 miles and hour and tells you to lay still. Riiiight. They cut and I freaked, but soon it was done and the cast was off. Which exposed the flesh underneath. Which was not pretty. Sometime during the healing process, hairs had sprouted and grown, skin had dried and flaked. Course, I didn’t care at the time. Pronouncing myself well enough to go home, I jumped from the table and immediately dropped to the floor, like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. Kerthump! The muscles had atrophied and it took months of physical therapy to get it all back in working order. Therapy that could be painful at times and was totally not fun.
But! Every cloud has a silver lining. I got to miss the first month and a half of 3rd grade.
It was sooo worth it.
We were taking turns zooming down Jason's driveway, which was at least a 45 degree angle and I was up. I jumped on the banana seat and was off. Problem was, I didn't make that turn that should have put me into the street and on a straight path of smoothness. Instead, I slammed into the curb of the driveway across the street and flew over the handle bars, landing on the concrete curb. Immediately, my friends ran for my parents, who then came rushing out, picked me up, got us in the car and took off for the hospital. My leg had swollen up to the size of a small Chilean boy and HURT. I mean, HURT, y’all.
Like most hospitals, they gave me a toy when I was admitted to the ER to help take my mind of the swollen-ness and hurt-y-ness of my leg. It was a ragdoll with a green dress and apron that I instantly fell in love with. She’s still tucked away in the attic, safe in my trunk of memories to be shown to the future generations. Like they’ll care, but whatever.
Now, to explain a little more clearly, this wasn’t just any bone that I had broken. Oh, no. It was the femur. Which, for those of you who don’t know, that’s the thigh bone. And it also happens to be the largest one in your body.
I was laid up in traction for the next 6 weeks. A pin was pushed through my left calf, just below the knee and was attached to a pulley with 10lbs of sand suspended from it. This was supposed to straighten the leg and ensure proper healing. I don’t know who came up with the idea of correcting a bone this way, but I hope they didn’t quit their day job. It sucked. Then came the body cast. You know that trend from a few years ago, where people shoved one pant leg way up and let the other hang normally? Picture that. Only 50lbs heavier and itchier. Very much itchier.
Going home was probably the worst part. As much as I missed it, I knew it was going to be down hill from there. My sisters teased me unmercifully, tickling the toes that I couldn’t even reach, moreless protect. Sometimes, I was toted outside to watch the others go swimming in the backyard (Did I mention it was July? H.O.T.). It was torture. But, the most embarassing things were not of any of my sisters’ doings. School registration came up while I was still mending and my mom had to pull me around with her in my little red wagon. On top of that, or maybe I should say under that, I was forced to wear adult diapers. They were the only things that fit over my cast and covered up my nevermind. Wait. What? I didn’t tell you that the cast had a big hole cut in the crotch for bathroom purposes? Well, in that case, I won’t mention how my poor mother had to lay me across the commode in order to take care of business and that by the end of summer, all the toilets in our house were roughed up and the paint was gone from the harsh plaster scraping it. No, I don’t think I want to talk about that.
7 weeks later, it was time to get the thing cut off. Now, if you’ve had a cast removed, you’ll understand what I’m talking about. The nurse comes at you with a circular saw buzzing at about 200 miles and hour and tells you to lay still. Riiiight. They cut and I freaked, but soon it was done and the cast was off. Which exposed the flesh underneath. Which was not pretty. Sometime during the healing process, hairs had sprouted and grown, skin had dried and flaked. Course, I didn’t care at the time. Pronouncing myself well enough to go home, I jumped from the table and immediately dropped to the floor, like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. Kerthump! The muscles had atrophied and it took months of physical therapy to get it all back in working order. Therapy that could be painful at times and was totally not fun.
But! Every cloud has a silver lining. I got to miss the first month and a half of 3rd grade.
It was sooo worth it.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Fun With Song Lyrics #148275
(Unknown Reggae song playing on radio)
Andy (singing) : " If you need help, I'll throw you a goat..."
Kim: "A rope, honey. I'll throw you a rope."
Andy: "Oh, right. That makes more sense."
Andy (singing) : " If you need help, I'll throw you a goat..."
Kim: "A rope, honey. I'll throw you a rope."
Andy: "Oh, right. That makes more sense."
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Reunited and It Feels So Good...
Recently, I was surfing the net when I came across the website of an old friend from my middle and high school years. We didn’t go to school together, instead meeting in the church I attended with a neighboring family. We were pretty close back in the day, but I stopped attending services and shortly after, she got married. It had been 6 years since I saw or spoke to her last and, obviously, many things had changed, but talking to her sorta felt like coming home. I had missed her very much, but time had faded that feeling and talking to her brought it all rushing back.
Lucky for me, this isn’t the first time that I’ve been able to reconnect with a loved one that I believed was lost to me. Many moons ago, one of my bestest and oldest friends and I weren’t very close. We had been the greatest of buddies for so many years and then things changed. Growing up, outside relationships and immature emotions tore a hole in our friendship that I was afraid would never mend. However, God does smile on us humans, because a couple of years after our parting, we met again and the old spark of familiarity and bonding flared brighter than ever. After a few months and more than a few deep conversations, our relationship flourished. Now, it’s a rare day that I don’t count on this girlfriend to help me cope with life, love and family. My friendship with this particular woman is something that I am extremely proud of and have no intention of letting wane again. Kat, you are the voice of reason in this otherwise chaotic world and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I will make sure that nothing ever comes between us again. Love ya, girl.
It was just a year ago that another group of girls also came into my life after playing a smaller role many eons earlier. We attended high school together, but that was the extent of our knowledge of each other. Then, fates intervened and brought us all together again on an alumni website and we forged a friendship that I pray will last the rest of my natural life. This bunch of wild women is my support, encouragement and inspiration. In high school, we could not have been more different and most likely would not have hung out, even if given a chance. As adults, we’ve learned to appreciate the unique qualities in each other and it has brought us closer than we ever would have been if we’d met back then. It seems as though God knew we weren’t ready and He held us apart until the time was right. Liz, Casey, Hilary, and Stef, y’all are some of my closest friends that I know I can share anything with. Thank you for never judging and standing by me during the times that I’ve needed you most. I heart you.
Naturally, I don’t have the corner market on reunions. There have been some that, while I was not directly involved, have affected my life in a tremendous way. My parents had one such reunion. After 23 year of togetherness, my parents adruptly separated and divorced in 1999. I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, but the truth was it rocked my very world. I was one of the few whose parents had stayed married even AFTER the last kid made it through schooling. Up to the day they parted ways, they had been a hand holding, booty grabbing affectionate couple that this was NOT supposed to happen to. Fast forward 5 years. My mother and father are standing in a gazebo in a park, and a preacher is in front of them. They were remarried almost a year before Daddy’s passing. I could never believe how fortunate I was to be one of those kids whose parents really did reconcile. So many dream about it, but so few are that lucky. I have never been as grateful for anything as I am that my last memory of my Daddy was with my Momma.
You would think that with the inventions of the telephone and computer, remaining in touch with others wouldn’t be difficult. Yet everyday, people allow good relationships to grow stale until they eventually fade away into nothing. Work, hobbies, and daily routines become more important than connecting with those you love. It’s such a waste when we all could use a friend. Keeping the communication lines open is something I strive for and that will not change, no matter how much time has gone by.
There’s a Girl Scout camp song that goes, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” It’s never been summed up better, so I won’t try.
Lucky for me, this isn’t the first time that I’ve been able to reconnect with a loved one that I believed was lost to me. Many moons ago, one of my bestest and oldest friends and I weren’t very close. We had been the greatest of buddies for so many years and then things changed. Growing up, outside relationships and immature emotions tore a hole in our friendship that I was afraid would never mend. However, God does smile on us humans, because a couple of years after our parting, we met again and the old spark of familiarity and bonding flared brighter than ever. After a few months and more than a few deep conversations, our relationship flourished. Now, it’s a rare day that I don’t count on this girlfriend to help me cope with life, love and family. My friendship with this particular woman is something that I am extremely proud of and have no intention of letting wane again. Kat, you are the voice of reason in this otherwise chaotic world and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I will make sure that nothing ever comes between us again. Love ya, girl.
It was just a year ago that another group of girls also came into my life after playing a smaller role many eons earlier. We attended high school together, but that was the extent of our knowledge of each other. Then, fates intervened and brought us all together again on an alumni website and we forged a friendship that I pray will last the rest of my natural life. This bunch of wild women is my support, encouragement and inspiration. In high school, we could not have been more different and most likely would not have hung out, even if given a chance. As adults, we’ve learned to appreciate the unique qualities in each other and it has brought us closer than we ever would have been if we’d met back then. It seems as though God knew we weren’t ready and He held us apart until the time was right. Liz, Casey, Hilary, and Stef, y’all are some of my closest friends that I know I can share anything with. Thank you for never judging and standing by me during the times that I’ve needed you most. I heart you.
Naturally, I don’t have the corner market on reunions. There have been some that, while I was not directly involved, have affected my life in a tremendous way. My parents had one such reunion. After 23 year of togetherness, my parents adruptly separated and divorced in 1999. I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, but the truth was it rocked my very world. I was one of the few whose parents had stayed married even AFTER the last kid made it through schooling. Up to the day they parted ways, they had been a hand holding, booty grabbing affectionate couple that this was NOT supposed to happen to. Fast forward 5 years. My mother and father are standing in a gazebo in a park, and a preacher is in front of them. They were remarried almost a year before Daddy’s passing. I could never believe how fortunate I was to be one of those kids whose parents really did reconcile. So many dream about it, but so few are that lucky. I have never been as grateful for anything as I am that my last memory of my Daddy was with my Momma.
You would think that with the inventions of the telephone and computer, remaining in touch with others wouldn’t be difficult. Yet everyday, people allow good relationships to grow stale until they eventually fade away into nothing. Work, hobbies, and daily routines become more important than connecting with those you love. It’s such a waste when we all could use a friend. Keeping the communication lines open is something I strive for and that will not change, no matter how much time has gone by.
There’s a Girl Scout camp song that goes, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” It’s never been summed up better, so I won’t try.
Monday, June 26, 2006
A MeMe from SillyHily
A real post? Nope, I'm still stalling...
Here goes. Six weird things about me:
1. I am terrified of several silly things, like monsters under the bed and clowns. After watching Poltergeist with that CLOWN DOLL UNDER THE BED, can you blame me? Ever since then, I have jumped onto my bed from about 2 feet away. (And I made Andrew put the clown doll that his grandmother gave him in the attic. But, not just in the attic- it had to be tied into a garbage bag first.) Not to mention all those stories of rapists that hide under your bed and cut your achilles tendon (or whatever that muscle is), so you can’t stand up or walk. Some of that finally stopped after I got married, but even now, if I’m at home alone, NO WAY am I just walking right up to that bed. Huh uh. Who knows what may be under there?
2. I sucked my thumb until I was 12. I can’t remember if I revealed that little tidbit before, but there you have it. I had buck teeth and was almost put into braces. Kids made fun of me. Do the math- 12 years old is 7th grade. 7TH GRADE, people. Thank goodness for the Nintendo bribe from my parents or I might still be doing it. And thanks to my teeth for moving back to their rightful place before any brace/ retainer-esque intervention. This habit is still with me to a degree. When I’m in deep thought, I have a tendency to rub the bridge of my nose with my index finger. Course, key term here is "deep in thought", so don' t bother watching for it.
3. I HATE confrontations. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind speaking my mind and defending my opinions. BUT, those shows like 60 Minutes and 20/20? When they confront the child molesters and crooked store owners? It makes me cringe. I have had to leave the room, because my chest hurt so much just watching it. For some reason, I get all embarrassed and nervous for the person caught in the act, even if they are really bad people. I KNOW they DESERVE to be publicly humiliated and punished, but all I can think about is how scared and exposed they must be feeling at THAT moment. No hate mail, please. I am NOT DEFENDING anyone, especially not those internet predators.
4. I MUST FOLD every piece of laundry possible. The only thing I do not fold is my own underwear. Yup, that means that I DO fold Andy’s. In our house, even bras and socks get folded. Somehow it makes me feel better, knowing the dresser drawers are neat and tidy inside. However, I hate actually folding clothes. That’s why they just never get put away. It doesn’t seem to bother me that the ones still in the baskets are not folded. It’s just something about them in the drawers all strewn about and haphazard I can’t stand.
5. I refuse to eat beans. Andy makes fun of me because I can eat a whole bowl of chili and not one bean. When all else is gone, the beans will remain, like roaches after a nuclear bomb explosion. Unless, I manage to secretly scrape and mix them into Andy’s bowl when he’s not looking. (Oh, yes, I have.) Recently, I have been trying to slowly introduce beans into my diet, but it’s not working so well. The habit to avoid them is still there and so is the ambivalence. Unfortunately, Andy’s dad, Mr. B, is VERY BIG on the bean eating issue. More than once, we’ve argued over dinner, when he tried to spoon some on my plate.
6. I fantasize about.... swimming. A lot. I used to swim everyday growing up, when we had a huge in-ground pool. I learned quickly and was a pretty good swimmer by age 4. But, that house was sold about 11 years ago and now I don’t know anyone with a pool. Except my sister in law, and y’all already know how I feel about that. Having said this, I do not want a backyard with a pool, when it’s time to move from our current tent of a house. They are a ton of work, money, time and effort. I’d much rather have FRIENDS that have pools. (*hint*hint*)
Hmmm. You know, you never realize how bat-shit-crazy you sound until it’s actually written out in front of you. Gee.
Here goes. Six weird things about me:
1. I am terrified of several silly things, like monsters under the bed and clowns. After watching Poltergeist with that CLOWN DOLL UNDER THE BED, can you blame me? Ever since then, I have jumped onto my bed from about 2 feet away. (And I made Andrew put the clown doll that his grandmother gave him in the attic. But, not just in the attic- it had to be tied into a garbage bag first.) Not to mention all those stories of rapists that hide under your bed and cut your achilles tendon (or whatever that muscle is), so you can’t stand up or walk. Some of that finally stopped after I got married, but even now, if I’m at home alone, NO WAY am I just walking right up to that bed. Huh uh. Who knows what may be under there?
2. I sucked my thumb until I was 12. I can’t remember if I revealed that little tidbit before, but there you have it. I had buck teeth and was almost put into braces. Kids made fun of me. Do the math- 12 years old is 7th grade. 7TH GRADE, people. Thank goodness for the Nintendo bribe from my parents or I might still be doing it. And thanks to my teeth for moving back to their rightful place before any brace/ retainer-esque intervention. This habit is still with me to a degree. When I’m in deep thought, I have a tendency to rub the bridge of my nose with my index finger. Course, key term here is "deep in thought", so don' t bother watching for it.
3. I HATE confrontations. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind speaking my mind and defending my opinions. BUT, those shows like 60 Minutes and 20/20? When they confront the child molesters and crooked store owners? It makes me cringe. I have had to leave the room, because my chest hurt so much just watching it. For some reason, I get all embarrassed and nervous for the person caught in the act, even if they are really bad people. I KNOW they DESERVE to be publicly humiliated and punished, but all I can think about is how scared and exposed they must be feeling at THAT moment. No hate mail, please. I am NOT DEFENDING anyone, especially not those internet predators.
4. I MUST FOLD every piece of laundry possible. The only thing I do not fold is my own underwear. Yup, that means that I DO fold Andy’s. In our house, even bras and socks get folded. Somehow it makes me feel better, knowing the dresser drawers are neat and tidy inside. However, I hate actually folding clothes. That’s why they just never get put away. It doesn’t seem to bother me that the ones still in the baskets are not folded. It’s just something about them in the drawers all strewn about and haphazard I can’t stand.
5. I refuse to eat beans. Andy makes fun of me because I can eat a whole bowl of chili and not one bean. When all else is gone, the beans will remain, like roaches after a nuclear bomb explosion. Unless, I manage to secretly scrape and mix them into Andy’s bowl when he’s not looking. (Oh, yes, I have.) Recently, I have been trying to slowly introduce beans into my diet, but it’s not working so well. The habit to avoid them is still there and so is the ambivalence. Unfortunately, Andy’s dad, Mr. B, is VERY BIG on the bean eating issue. More than once, we’ve argued over dinner, when he tried to spoon some on my plate.
6. I fantasize about.... swimming. A lot. I used to swim everyday growing up, when we had a huge in-ground pool. I learned quickly and was a pretty good swimmer by age 4. But, that house was sold about 11 years ago and now I don’t know anyone with a pool. Except my sister in law, and y’all already know how I feel about that. Having said this, I do not want a backyard with a pool, when it’s time to move from our current tent of a house. They are a ton of work, money, time and effort. I’d much rather have FRIENDS that have pools. (*hint*hint*)
Hmmm. You know, you never realize how bat-shit-crazy you sound until it’s actually written out in front of you. Gee.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Lovin' the Memes.
HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW ME..
Here’s another quiz that WTHIT sent me a long time ago. I will try to post something a bit more substantial later today. If not then, maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Eventually, I'm sure. Whatever.
Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. hostess at Pig-N-Whistle
2. receptionist at Airport Toyota
3. preschool teacher
4. insurance agent
Movies I would watch over & over:
1. Grease
2. Napoleon Dynamite
3. Joe Dirt
4. Little Women
Four tv shows I love to watch:
1. American Idol
2. The Office
3. CSI: Miami
4. That 70’s Show
Four places I have been on vacation:
1. New Smyrna Beach, FL
2. Gatlinburg, TN
3. New Orleans, LA
4. Hilton Head, SC
Four websites I visit daily:
1. All Blogs of Friends (see side bar)
2. Amalah
3. Go Fug Yourself
4. Celebrity Smack
Four of my favorite foods:
1. steak & potatoes
2. chicken enchiladas
3. those fried onion things at steakhouses
4. Uncle Bens' chicken flavored rice
Four places I would Rather be right now:
1. snuggled in bed with hubbie
2. spending time with my mom
3. shopping with friends
4. park with my doggie
Four songs that make me cry:
1. “Stand By Me" by Ben E. King
2. “Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton
3. "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox" by Joe Diffie (played at Daddy’s funeral)
4. “Porcelain" by Red Hot Chili
Here’s another quiz that WTHIT sent me a long time ago. I will try to post something a bit more substantial later today. If not then, maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Eventually, I'm sure. Whatever.
Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. hostess at Pig-N-Whistle
2. receptionist at Airport Toyota
3. preschool teacher
4. insurance agent
Movies I would watch over & over:
1. Grease
2. Napoleon Dynamite
3. Joe Dirt
4. Little Women
Four tv shows I love to watch:
1. American Idol
2. The Office
3. CSI: Miami
4. That 70’s Show
Four places I have been on vacation:
1. New Smyrna Beach, FL
2. Gatlinburg, TN
3. New Orleans, LA
4. Hilton Head, SC
Four websites I visit daily:
1. All Blogs of Friends (see side bar)
2. Amalah
3. Go Fug Yourself
4. Celebrity Smack
Four of my favorite foods:
1. steak & potatoes
2. chicken enchiladas
3. those fried onion things at steakhouses
4. Uncle Bens' chicken flavored rice
Four places I would Rather be right now:
1. snuggled in bed with hubbie
2. spending time with my mom
3. shopping with friends
4. park with my doggie
Four songs that make me cry:
1. “Stand By Me" by Ben E. King
2. “Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton
3. "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox" by Joe Diffie (played at Daddy’s funeral)
4. “Porcelain" by Red Hot Chili
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Father's Day Special
This Sunday is Father’s Day. For me, this is the first Father’s Day without my Father. It’s only been 9 months since that day, but our family has already had to go through all the “first year days”, except Father’s Day (most of those firsts were within 4 months). Thanksgiving, Christmas, Daddy’s birthday, my parent’s anniversary, my birthday, all of the major holidays have come and gone. Heck, my sister’s birthday fell on the one full day that separated my Father’s and Grandmother’s passing. So, yeah, we’ve been through this before.
But for some reason, Father’s Day, I have a feeling, is going to be different. Not because of its importance, though it surely is that. Before Daddy died, we never really celebrated Father’s Day. It was always the same old ‘get them a card and call to say you love them’ routine. The problem is this is FATHER’S DAY. Everything is geared towards Dads. Every which way you look, there they are. Dads. Only, none of them are mine.
I have nowhere to mail a card this year. I have no one to call and tell that I love him. There is not going to be a Father’s Day dinner in my family’s house. It hurts my heart to know that I have to talk to a wooden box with only his name engraved upon the lid.
Therefore, I am dedicating this post to my wonderful Father, though he’ll never be able to read or see it. This is part of my way of honoring and remembering him.
You loved me with your whole heart.
You watched me learn and grow.
You taught me to be independent.
You laughed at my antics and jokes.
You disciplined my rebellious side.
You boosted my confidence and self esteem.
You pushed me to be the best person possible.
You showed me how to be strong.
You gave me courage to face all odds.
You supported me in my decisions.
You encouraged me when I was down.
You gave when I had nothing to give back.
You shared everything you had with me.
You walked me down the aisle at my wedding.
You guided me when I lost my way.
You picked me up after a stumble.
You spoiled me endlessly.
You made me who I am today.
You were everything a Father should be.
Happy Father’s Day.
But for some reason, Father’s Day, I have a feeling, is going to be different. Not because of its importance, though it surely is that. Before Daddy died, we never really celebrated Father’s Day. It was always the same old ‘get them a card and call to say you love them’ routine. The problem is this is FATHER’S DAY. Everything is geared towards Dads. Every which way you look, there they are. Dads. Only, none of them are mine.
I have nowhere to mail a card this year. I have no one to call and tell that I love him. There is not going to be a Father’s Day dinner in my family’s house. It hurts my heart to know that I have to talk to a wooden box with only his name engraved upon the lid.
Therefore, I am dedicating this post to my wonderful Father, though he’ll never be able to read or see it. This is part of my way of honoring and remembering him.
You loved me with your whole heart.
You watched me learn and grow.
You taught me to be independent.
You laughed at my antics and jokes.
You disciplined my rebellious side.
You boosted my confidence and self esteem.
You pushed me to be the best person possible.
You showed me how to be strong.
You gave me courage to face all odds.
You supported me in my decisions.
You encouraged me when I was down.
You gave when I had nothing to give back.
You shared everything you had with me.
You walked me down the aisle at my wedding.
You guided me when I lost my way.
You picked me up after a stumble.
You spoiled me endlessly.
You made me who I am today.
You were everything a Father should be.
Happy Father’s Day.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
What's for Dessert?
Okay, maybe some of you already know this, but I am head over freakin' heels in love with my husband. I met him at Wal-Mart many years ago and never looked back. He's been my rock and my strength, never moreso than the last few months. He's my soulmate without a doubt in my mind.
However, my love for him reached new heights this weekend. (WAIT! Before you report me for inappropriate content, that's not what I meant.) He said something to me that no man has ever said, which touched my heart deeply. No, it wasn't "I love you," "You're beautiful" or anything like that, which he does say regularly. (hmm, brag much, Kimpossible?) It was even BETTER.
As we were ordering our dinner, I was a bit tempted to include some sort of cookie/candy coated ice cream for dessert. Since, like most average people, I don't really NEED that extra sugar, my willpower kicked in and I decided to forgo it. Now, my husband had been waiting for me to finalize my order, so he wondered why I had chosen to give up my favorite treat. When I mentioned my reasoning, do you know what he said?
This man is awesome. Andy looked me straight in the eye and said, "I wouldn't mind if you gained a little weight."
WUHHHH???!!??
How in the world did I manage to get so lucky?
However, my love for him reached new heights this weekend. (WAIT! Before you report me for inappropriate content, that's not what I meant.) He said something to me that no man has ever said, which touched my heart deeply. No, it wasn't "I love you," "You're beautiful" or anything like that, which he does say regularly. (hmm, brag much, Kimpossible?) It was even BETTER.
As we were ordering our dinner, I was a bit tempted to include some sort of cookie/candy coated ice cream for dessert. Since, like most average people, I don't really NEED that extra sugar, my willpower kicked in and I decided to forgo it. Now, my husband had been waiting for me to finalize my order, so he wondered why I had chosen to give up my favorite treat. When I mentioned my reasoning, do you know what he said?
This man is awesome. Andy looked me straight in the eye and said, "I wouldn't mind if you gained a little weight."
WUHHHH???!!??
How in the world did I manage to get so lucky?
Friday, June 09, 2006
Sis
They have found suspicious lumps on my sister's cervix. She will go in for testing and perhaps biopsy next Wednesday, then we have to wait 2 weeks before the results are in. She is scared. My mom is scared. I am scared.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
School of Etiquette
One day last week, I held the door open for a man as we were leaving work. He commented to me that he thought everyone with manners was gone. I replied that, "No, we're here, you just have to find us."
This quick exchange got me thinking. I am always confused about some "mannerly" things, like the door holding. How close behind you does the person need to be before you'll hold the door? If they are further behind, do you let the door swing shut after you? Or, do you hold it anyway and force them into that akward run/ jog to catch up? If you decide to stand and hold the door, what do you say to them when they approach? This line of questioning can also be applied to the elevator. When to hold and when to fold? (and if you don't hold the door, do you talk to the others that made it in about those left behind?)
Another conundrum (great word, huh?) is how do you help someone that doesn't want assistance, but you know you should? We have this elderly man that lives next door to us, who is very independent. He is alone, except his daughter and son that come by to visit every couple of weeks. On several occasions, my husband has spotted this man attempting to carry his groceries from the car into the house. Obviously, Andy jumps right in to help, but is usually rewarded with the man telling him, loudly and firmly, that he can handle it and DOES NOT NEED HELP. But Andy knows that Mr. H can't do it all by himself, after all he's well into his 80's, is on oxygen and has serious problems walking, moreless navigating the stairs to the back door. Because he is a good southern boy, Andy convinces Mr. H to let him help, but you can see the begruding loss of independence on Mr. H's face. It makes you wonder if you are doing him a favor after all.
This segues to another topic: face issues. I don't know how to word it any better than that. What I mean is- what about people with stuff on their face? Do you tell them or just let it be and hope someone else lets the person know? Do you risk your own embarassment over having noticed the offense or try to not stare when they have a big boog a'hangin'? How about breath? Surely, everyone has had a conversation with someone that was a little too, ummm, close. Should you warn the masses of impending hallitosis doom? Or offer the mouth breather a mint?
Here's another one and this is for those of you in committed relationships- do these same rules apply to your partner? Is there door holding, even if your other half is lagging behind? Do you point out things to your significant other that you normally would not with a stranger? In our household, what needs to be said, gets said. So, if you've got dragon breath, I'm letting you know. I expect it to be reciprocal, after all, you don't want to run off the one person that wants to kiss and cuddle even after seeing you lick mayo off your own eyebrow.
This quick exchange got me thinking. I am always confused about some "mannerly" things, like the door holding. How close behind you does the person need to be before you'll hold the door? If they are further behind, do you let the door swing shut after you? Or, do you hold it anyway and force them into that akward run/ jog to catch up? If you decide to stand and hold the door, what do you say to them when they approach? This line of questioning can also be applied to the elevator. When to hold and when to fold? (and if you don't hold the door, do you talk to the others that made it in about those left behind?)
Another conundrum (great word, huh?) is how do you help someone that doesn't want assistance, but you know you should? We have this elderly man that lives next door to us, who is very independent. He is alone, except his daughter and son that come by to visit every couple of weeks. On several occasions, my husband has spotted this man attempting to carry his groceries from the car into the house. Obviously, Andy jumps right in to help, but is usually rewarded with the man telling him, loudly and firmly, that he can handle it and DOES NOT NEED HELP. But Andy knows that Mr. H can't do it all by himself, after all he's well into his 80's, is on oxygen and has serious problems walking, moreless navigating the stairs to the back door. Because he is a good southern boy, Andy convinces Mr. H to let him help, but you can see the begruding loss of independence on Mr. H's face. It makes you wonder if you are doing him a favor after all.
This segues to another topic: face issues. I don't know how to word it any better than that. What I mean is- what about people with stuff on their face? Do you tell them or just let it be and hope someone else lets the person know? Do you risk your own embarassment over having noticed the offense or try to not stare when they have a big boog a'hangin'? How about breath? Surely, everyone has had a conversation with someone that was a little too, ummm, close. Should you warn the masses of impending hallitosis doom? Or offer the mouth breather a mint?
Here's another one and this is for those of you in committed relationships- do these same rules apply to your partner? Is there door holding, even if your other half is lagging behind? Do you point out things to your significant other that you normally would not with a stranger? In our household, what needs to be said, gets said. So, if you've got dragon breath, I'm letting you know. I expect it to be reciprocal, after all, you don't want to run off the one person that wants to kiss and cuddle even after seeing you lick mayo off your own eyebrow.
MeMe
I am – creative.
I want – world dominance.
I wish - I could see the future.
I miss – my Dad.
I fear - death and whatever lies on the other side.
I hear – horrible elevator muzak. I can even hear it in my dreams.
I wonder - when it'll be my turn.
I regret – giving up on school, but not enough to go back.
I am not – emotional.
I dance – when I clean my house (in my underwear).
I sing – when I drive.
I cry – by myself.
I am not always – ambitious.
I make with my hands – I plead the fifth. (we'll go with peanut butter sandwiches)
I write – letters when I am angry at someone. Then I rip them up.
I confuse – the expressways through town.
I need – time alone.
I should – exercise.
I start – big projects that I HATE finishing.
I finish – big projects that I SHOULD NEVER HAVE STARTED.
I want – world dominance.
I wish - I could see the future.
I miss – my Dad.
I fear - death and whatever lies on the other side.
I hear – horrible elevator muzak. I can even hear it in my dreams.
I wonder - when it'll be my turn.
I regret – giving up on school, but not enough to go back.
I am not – emotional.
I dance – when I clean my house (in my underwear).
I sing – when I drive.
I cry – by myself.
I am not always – ambitious.
I make with my hands – I plead the fifth. (we'll go with peanut butter sandwiches)
I write – letters when I am angry at someone. Then I rip them up.
I confuse – the expressways through town.
I need – time alone.
I should – exercise.
I start – big projects that I HATE finishing.
I finish – big projects that I SHOULD NEVER HAVE STARTED.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Hilarity WiIl Ensue
After the dismal news that I posted last week, I thought it might be time for a little bit of lighthearted humor. Disclaimer: The following video may, perhaps, possibly, contain the word penis.
Friday, May 26, 2006
No words
I’ll never understand how life can be so unfair sometimes. This morning, I was flagged down by S, the lady that lives diagonally across and to the left of my house. She and another, elderly woman were working in the yard of my next door neighbor, R. I was on my way to work when she stopped me to drop the news. R’s daughter, A, has cancer of the kidney. A is 5 years old, y’all. The family was just informed on Wed. and things are a little rocky now. From my understanding, the docs found a tumor and when they were operating to remove it, they discovered that another tumor had already exploded inside of A. Now, they don’t know how far it has spread. A is at St. Jude for testing and treatment.
When we moved into our home almost 6 years ago, A hadn’t even been born. These days, we usually hear her laughter and sounds of her childish play in the backyard next to us every afternoon, while we watch tv. It breaks my heart to think this vivacious little girl has been struck down with such a horrific disease. Her parents must be dealing with unimaginable feelings of helplessness and fear. I can and will help out with anything that will unburden them in any way possible, but there’s nothing I can say or do that will take that pain away. No Hallmark card or homemade casserole can offer comfort or reassurance that everything will be okay.
It’s always difficult to find the right thing to say to someone that is dealing with tragedy. But, when it comes to talking about a parent of a cancer kid, absolutely nothing is adequate to express how sorry you are. How do you show them that you care and have confidence that God will take care of everything? What do you say to let them know that you are there for them and want to contribute, without reminding them of their pain? I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m trying.
Please, if you are reading this, keep A and her family in your thoughts and prayers. Also, remember the doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff that have to face these families and fight childhood diseases everyday. The struggle and frustration they must go through has to weigh heavily on their minds. I will update on her situation as soon as I find out what’s next.
If you are interested in cancer research and treatment here's a couple of links to check out:
http://www.wingscancerfoundation.org
http://www.stjude.org
http://cancerres.aacrjournals.org
When we moved into our home almost 6 years ago, A hadn’t even been born. These days, we usually hear her laughter and sounds of her childish play in the backyard next to us every afternoon, while we watch tv. It breaks my heart to think this vivacious little girl has been struck down with such a horrific disease. Her parents must be dealing with unimaginable feelings of helplessness and fear. I can and will help out with anything that will unburden them in any way possible, but there’s nothing I can say or do that will take that pain away. No Hallmark card or homemade casserole can offer comfort or reassurance that everything will be okay.
It’s always difficult to find the right thing to say to someone that is dealing with tragedy. But, when it comes to talking about a parent of a cancer kid, absolutely nothing is adequate to express how sorry you are. How do you show them that you care and have confidence that God will take care of everything? What do you say to let them know that you are there for them and want to contribute, without reminding them of their pain? I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m trying.
Please, if you are reading this, keep A and her family in your thoughts and prayers. Also, remember the doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff that have to face these families and fight childhood diseases everyday. The struggle and frustration they must go through has to weigh heavily on their minds. I will update on her situation as soon as I find out what’s next.
If you are interested in cancer research and treatment here's a couple of links to check out:
http://www.wingscancerfoundation.org
http://www.stjude.org
http://cancerres.aacrjournals.org
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Wilderness Girl, the Sequel.
Soooo, I didn’t quite make my slippery escape from the trek to the woods. However, I was only sucked into being out there for the afternoon on Sunday, as opposed to actually camping overnight. Still, that was more than enough and I really don’t want to have to repeat the experience. A few of the highlights from my wild adventure:
We get to the campgrounds, find the in-laws site and pull in. When my truck pulled to a stop, we noticed that it felt like it was going to up and die. Andy popped the hood and found the problem. It was bad, y’all. Some vacuum hose had come loose and was blowing extremely hot air out. Bad news because it had been laying up against the PLASTIC sensor that it had originally been plugged into and melted it. Why are any car parts even made out of PLASTIC? If that wasn’t enough, it then burned a nice size hole in the intake manifold. Great. How the heck do you get home when your vehicle is on the verge of collapse?
It only took about 5 minutes before my morning shower had worn off. It was freakin’ hot and sticky out there. The clothes we had chosen, it became woefully obvious, weren’t the most out-doors friendly. Jeans are not a very comfortable thing to have on if you are going to puff up like a marshmallow from the heat. Deodorant? What a joke. Mother Nature bitch slapped that one all over creation. You know how in the summer, you can feel the sweat running down the backs of your legs because it had collected in your knee-pits until they could hold no more? Imagine that, but all over.
Next, in our game of survival came the nature walk. (Alright, not so much a nature walk, as a paved pathway to the kiddy playground. BUT! There were trees! And bugs! So very nature-y! And we walked! Shut up.) We met up with Mrs. B, SIL, Cousin S. and SIL’s kids on their way back from said playground. As we stood around talking on the walkway, Andy moved to the side and alllllllmost fell over trying to avoid stepping on a snake. A SNAKE, PEOPLE. It was less than 2 feet off the path that CHILDREN were running up and down without a care in the world. Andy was a fraction of a second away from getting bit. And I have it on good authority, as in my FIL, a great friend and a co-worker all said so, that this snake was indeed poisonous. You can tell by the shape of the head, apparently. After the screams died down, Mr. B. borrowed a hatchet and killed the nasty varmint. Course, I won’t mention that it took him at least 5 swings to finish the job. He missed a few times and let me tell you, not much pisses a snake off more than being hacked at by a shirtless man with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
By now, it was time to fire up the grill and fix some lunch/dinner. As predicted, Andy was appointed head grill master. I was lucky enough to find a spot at the picnic table that was only slightly damp from the rain the night before and chatted with the kids around me. Naturally, it wasn’t long until the bugs smelled the good cookin’ and swarmed the camp site. Y’all should have seen it! Some flying something or other just about went down my shirt and I came up from that table like I had been crowned the new American Idol. Maybe even faster. Certainly with more profanity and yelling.
Finally, once the meal was eaten, I tried to snatch Andy away for a nice, quiet walk down to the water, but my plan was thwarted. As soon as the question, “Do you want to go walking?” came out, the kiddos started begging. “Can we go? Pleeeease?” What does wonderful SIL do? Tell them that of course, they can go. So much for that. We did manage to sneak a hug and quick peck, while the kids were throwing sand balls (picture snowballs but made of wet sand) at each other. Hey, I just said we would watch them, not prevent them from blinding themselves with sand.
When we got back to the campsite, everything was packed up and just about ready to go. THANK GOD. For the following 30 minutes, we said our good-byes and insisted that, “No, we don’t need to take your roll of aluminum foil, just in case, but thank you anyway.” Then, into the truck, buckle up and away we went. Fortunately, Andy’s rigging held the entire ride home. Seriously, it was only by the grace of God, some twist ties and a stick, that it worked. And the day wouldn’t have been complete without a The-End-is-Coming-NOW-Thunderstorm. The whole way home, all I could think about was why in the world would people go sleep in the woods, when mankind has worked for thousands of years to get OUT of the elements? Still, we made it home safely and in record time.
Alright, so you may be thinking, “That doesn’t sound so horrible. She’s being way dramatic.” and you are probably right. You know what, though? I don’t care. It was a miserable day and I hated it. Know what else? I’d do it again in a heartbeat to hear my husband say, “Thanks for going today. I appreciate you trying to have fun.” Little did he know what thoughts were running through my head all day. Then again, he has to put up with my family, so perhaps, he does know...
We get to the campgrounds, find the in-laws site and pull in. When my truck pulled to a stop, we noticed that it felt like it was going to up and die. Andy popped the hood and found the problem. It was bad, y’all. Some vacuum hose had come loose and was blowing extremely hot air out. Bad news because it had been laying up against the PLASTIC sensor that it had originally been plugged into and melted it. Why are any car parts even made out of PLASTIC? If that wasn’t enough, it then burned a nice size hole in the intake manifold. Great. How the heck do you get home when your vehicle is on the verge of collapse?
It only took about 5 minutes before my morning shower had worn off. It was freakin’ hot and sticky out there. The clothes we had chosen, it became woefully obvious, weren’t the most out-doors friendly. Jeans are not a very comfortable thing to have on if you are going to puff up like a marshmallow from the heat. Deodorant? What a joke. Mother Nature bitch slapped that one all over creation. You know how in the summer, you can feel the sweat running down the backs of your legs because it had collected in your knee-pits until they could hold no more? Imagine that, but all over.
Next, in our game of survival came the nature walk. (Alright, not so much a nature walk, as a paved pathway to the kiddy playground. BUT! There were trees! And bugs! So very nature-y! And we walked! Shut up.) We met up with Mrs. B, SIL, Cousin S. and SIL’s kids on their way back from said playground. As we stood around talking on the walkway, Andy moved to the side and alllllllmost fell over trying to avoid stepping on a snake. A SNAKE, PEOPLE. It was less than 2 feet off the path that CHILDREN were running up and down without a care in the world. Andy was a fraction of a second away from getting bit. And I have it on good authority, as in my FIL, a great friend and a co-worker all said so, that this snake was indeed poisonous. You can tell by the shape of the head, apparently. After the screams died down, Mr. B. borrowed a hatchet and killed the nasty varmint. Course, I won’t mention that it took him at least 5 swings to finish the job. He missed a few times and let me tell you, not much pisses a snake off more than being hacked at by a shirtless man with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
By now, it was time to fire up the grill and fix some lunch/dinner. As predicted, Andy was appointed head grill master. I was lucky enough to find a spot at the picnic table that was only slightly damp from the rain the night before and chatted with the kids around me. Naturally, it wasn’t long until the bugs smelled the good cookin’ and swarmed the camp site. Y’all should have seen it! Some flying something or other just about went down my shirt and I came up from that table like I had been crowned the new American Idol. Maybe even faster. Certainly with more profanity and yelling.
Finally, once the meal was eaten, I tried to snatch Andy away for a nice, quiet walk down to the water, but my plan was thwarted. As soon as the question, “Do you want to go walking?” came out, the kiddos started begging. “Can we go? Pleeeease?” What does wonderful SIL do? Tell them that of course, they can go. So much for that. We did manage to sneak a hug and quick peck, while the kids were throwing sand balls (picture snowballs but made of wet sand) at each other. Hey, I just said we would watch them, not prevent them from blinding themselves with sand.
When we got back to the campsite, everything was packed up and just about ready to go. THANK GOD. For the following 30 minutes, we said our good-byes and insisted that, “No, we don’t need to take your roll of aluminum foil, just in case, but thank you anyway.” Then, into the truck, buckle up and away we went. Fortunately, Andy’s rigging held the entire ride home. Seriously, it was only by the grace of God, some twist ties and a stick, that it worked. And the day wouldn’t have been complete without a The-End-is-Coming-NOW-Thunderstorm. The whole way home, all I could think about was why in the world would people go sleep in the woods, when mankind has worked for thousands of years to get OUT of the elements? Still, we made it home safely and in record time.
Alright, so you may be thinking, “That doesn’t sound so horrible. She’s being way dramatic.” and you are probably right. You know what, though? I don’t care. It was a miserable day and I hated it. Know what else? I’d do it again in a heartbeat to hear my husband say, “Thanks for going today. I appreciate you trying to have fun.” Little did he know what thoughts were running through my head all day. Then again, he has to put up with my family, so perhaps, he does know...
Friday, May 19, 2006
Get out your #2 pencils... it's quiz time!
Just for Fun! Here is a list of questions I found on someone's random site. Thought I would answer them for fun since I don't have anything else to write about today. Then if you read these and are a regular blogger then answer them on your site too.
1.Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.
(Forgive me, I’m at work.) Page 18 is blank, so here’s line 4 from page 19-
Retention of Risk. General. Assuming all or part of a risk instead of purchasing insurance of otherwise transferring the risk. One of the four major risk management techniques. See Risk Management. – From the Glossary of Insurance Terms.
2.Stretch your left arm out as far as you can and catch air?No, it hits the left wall of my cubie. Now on the right, I can stretch hit nothing.
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Craig Ferguson, last night.
4. Without looking, guess what time it is?
I hope it’s 4:30, but I think it’s about 2:30
5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
2:06, worse than I thought
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Coworkers talking and muzak a playin’
7.When did you last step outside? What were you doing?I
just got back from lunch about an hour ago. I almost had forgotten what the sun looked like...
8.Before you started this survey, what did you look at? On the computer?
My auditing paperwork.
On the computer- WTHIT’s blog
9.What are you wearing?
dark gray slacks, white wrap around shirt, black boots
10.When did you last laugh?
This morning, looking at the now hairless creature we call a cat. Sorry Delilah.
11.What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Well, it’s my cubie, so a calendar, a list of Kentucky tax rates, list of % of Reinsurance ceded rates, list of Utah and New Mexico clients, picture board, emergency contact list.
12.Seen anything weird lately?
Again, Delilah
13.What do you think of this quiz?
Love quizzes- they make you look like you are working, when you’re really not.
14.What is the last film you saw?
40 Year Old Virgin- got it for Christmas
15. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
Pay off debt, buy house for us, buy house for my mom, buy house for Andy’s parents, new car for hubbie and me, should I list EVERYTHING? cause that could take a while if I’m spending millions
16. Tell me something about you that I don't know.
Something you don’t know... hmmm, okay, one time, my mom caught me peeing on the tree in our side yard. She said, “You better not be doing what I think you are doing!” I replied, “What do you think I’m doing?” See, I’m clever- turn it around and go on the offense.
17. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Good one. End stupidity? Yes, that’s my answer- End Stupidity.
18.Do you like to Dance?
Yes, as I clean the house in my underwear.
19. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Lucille Shelby, but the middle name may change. I’m working on it.
20. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Maxwell Ford. No, I didn’t pick that middle name either.
21.Would you ever consider living abroad?
If I could communicate and live within the same means- absolutely. In a heartbeat.
22.What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Welcome in.
1.Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.
(Forgive me, I’m at work.) Page 18 is blank, so here’s line 4 from page 19-
Retention of Risk. General. Assuming all or part of a risk instead of purchasing insurance of otherwise transferring the risk. One of the four major risk management techniques. See Risk Management. – From the Glossary of Insurance Terms.
2.Stretch your left arm out as far as you can and catch air?No, it hits the left wall of my cubie. Now on the right, I can stretch hit nothing.
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Craig Ferguson, last night.
4. Without looking, guess what time it is?
I hope it’s 4:30, but I think it’s about 2:30
5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
2:06, worse than I thought
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Coworkers talking and muzak a playin’
7.When did you last step outside? What were you doing?I
just got back from lunch about an hour ago. I almost had forgotten what the sun looked like...
8.Before you started this survey, what did you look at? On the computer?
My auditing paperwork.
On the computer- WTHIT’s blog
9.What are you wearing?
dark gray slacks, white wrap around shirt, black boots
10.When did you last laugh?
This morning, looking at the now hairless creature we call a cat. Sorry Delilah.
11.What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Well, it’s my cubie, so a calendar, a list of Kentucky tax rates, list of % of Reinsurance ceded rates, list of Utah and New Mexico clients, picture board, emergency contact list.
12.Seen anything weird lately?
Again, Delilah
13.What do you think of this quiz?
Love quizzes- they make you look like you are working, when you’re really not.
14.What is the last film you saw?
40 Year Old Virgin- got it for Christmas
15. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
Pay off debt, buy house for us, buy house for my mom, buy house for Andy’s parents, new car for hubbie and me, should I list EVERYTHING? cause that could take a while if I’m spending millions
16. Tell me something about you that I don't know.
Something you don’t know... hmmm, okay, one time, my mom caught me peeing on the tree in our side yard. She said, “You better not be doing what I think you are doing!” I replied, “What do you think I’m doing?” See, I’m clever- turn it around and go on the offense.
17. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Good one. End stupidity? Yes, that’s my answer- End Stupidity.
18.Do you like to Dance?
Yes, as I clean the house in my underwear.
19. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Lucille Shelby, but the middle name may change. I’m working on it.
20. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Maxwell Ford. No, I didn’t pick that middle name either.
21.Would you ever consider living abroad?
If I could communicate and live within the same means- absolutely. In a heartbeat.
22.What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Welcome in.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Wilderness Girl
Maybe one of you wives can give me some advice. It has to be quick though because the problem is going to be this weekend. Here’s my issue: my in-laws invited us to go on an overnight camping trip with them. (And everyone else in the state of TN that is remotely blood related.) Usually, I wouldn’t sweat this type of stuff cause I know my hubbie wants to hang with them about as much as I do. But, this time? He’s seriously thinking about it.
See, it all started early Sunday morning. 9:30 am my phone rings. This alone is enough to automatically piss me off. We have no kids and are not regular church-goers, so needless to say, they woke us up. And for what? To be guilted into an extended visitation? Fabulous. As soon as Andy got off the phone, he filled me in on the conversation. My reply was something to the effect of “OH, HELL TO THE NO!!! Over my cold, stiff, dead body. You can go, but my ass is staying at home.” We talked about it a little, then the subject was dropped. In my mind, anyway, apparently not so much in his.
We went to his parent’s house to give his mother a gift (I’m not a bad DIL, just a secretly snarky one) and Mrs. B asked us if we had thought about going. “Umm, yeah. We kinda have a wedding to be at that morning. And it’s out of town, so... we’re probably going to have to pass.” Probably, huh? Probably my ass. I know- Liar, Liar...well, my pants may be on fire, but they’ll be burning on my own damn couch.
Later, as we are plunked back down in front of the t.v., he looks at me and says, “I think we should go camping this weekend. It’ll be fun. “ However, when put to the test, he couldn’t say WHAT would be fun about it. I could though. Mosquitos, card games with your Aunt G, having to grill food for EVERYBODY ELSE, cause they have no idea how a grill works, and the prospect of being stuck in the woods with these people. Oh, and did I mention bees? I should cause they scare the beejeezus out of me. We’re talking, running blindly while slapping myself silly and jumping into a lake, ala Wile E. Coyote, scared.
This fear of bees or really, anything that stings, has been more than enough to cause previous camping trips to turn ugly fast. I hate the buzzing little bastards with a passion as hot as the lowest depths of hell. They terrify me. It’s been this way as long as I can remember and don’t bother telling me that if you leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone. That’s a big fat lie and I’ll call you out on it. I’ve been stung. That shit hurts.
Where were we? Oh, yea, so now I’ve got to find a way to convince my husband that camping this weekend is a very bad idea. I’m just not sure how. He loves being outside. He loves the heat, bugs and sweaty hair that come with it. Ugh. So, girls? Any words of wisdom to get my way?
See, it all started early Sunday morning. 9:30 am my phone rings. This alone is enough to automatically piss me off. We have no kids and are not regular church-goers, so needless to say, they woke us up. And for what? To be guilted into an extended visitation? Fabulous. As soon as Andy got off the phone, he filled me in on the conversation. My reply was something to the effect of “OH, HELL TO THE NO!!! Over my cold, stiff, dead body. You can go, but my ass is staying at home.” We talked about it a little, then the subject was dropped. In my mind, anyway, apparently not so much in his.
We went to his parent’s house to give his mother a gift (I’m not a bad DIL, just a secretly snarky one) and Mrs. B asked us if we had thought about going. “Umm, yeah. We kinda have a wedding to be at that morning. And it’s out of town, so... we’re probably going to have to pass.” Probably, huh? Probably my ass. I know- Liar, Liar...well, my pants may be on fire, but they’ll be burning on my own damn couch.
Later, as we are plunked back down in front of the t.v., he looks at me and says, “I think we should go camping this weekend. It’ll be fun. “ However, when put to the test, he couldn’t say WHAT would be fun about it. I could though. Mosquitos, card games with your Aunt G, having to grill food for EVERYBODY ELSE, cause they have no idea how a grill works, and the prospect of being stuck in the woods with these people. Oh, and did I mention bees? I should cause they scare the beejeezus out of me. We’re talking, running blindly while slapping myself silly and jumping into a lake, ala Wile E. Coyote, scared.
This fear of bees or really, anything that stings, has been more than enough to cause previous camping trips to turn ugly fast. I hate the buzzing little bastards with a passion as hot as the lowest depths of hell. They terrify me. It’s been this way as long as I can remember and don’t bother telling me that if you leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone. That’s a big fat lie and I’ll call you out on it. I’ve been stung. That shit hurts.
Where were we? Oh, yea, so now I’ve got to find a way to convince my husband that camping this weekend is a very bad idea. I’m just not sure how. He loves being outside. He loves the heat, bugs and sweaty hair that come with it. Ugh. So, girls? Any words of wisdom to get my way?
Friday, May 12, 2006
Enough Already!
As with most bloggers, there are certain issues going on in my life that I do not discuss on the internet. In fact, there are a few things that I refuse to discuss with anyone, with the exception of my husband and a few gal pals. However, I find these are the things that I want and NEED to vent about the most. So, without giving details, I’m putting into writing, things I would love to say to some folks in my real life. Obviously, most of you won’t get this post, but that’s okay because the point is to relieve some pent-up frustration.
To H: GET A GRIP AND GROW UP! You are an adult now and as such, you are responsible for your own life. No more mooching and no more abusing the love your family has for you. It’s time you get clean for good, get a job and do something with yourself. No one has a perfect life handed to them on a silver platter, they work for it. That includes you. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and get off your lazy ass. Everyone is getting tired of hearing your “Woe as me” stories.
To S: Honey, you have to get better. The help is being offered and you are refusing to take it. No one else can make you get well, we can only encourage you. Now, it’s up to you to take the steps and make things better. Pick yourself up and dust off, you can do it. It’s time to be strong and take positive action. No more sitting there, passively letting life drift by you. We love you and worry about you. Please, do something before it’s too late.
To P: Just shut up already. No body cares about what everybody else is doing wrong in their lives according to you. Hell, your life isn’t something I would even strive for. For once, just try to be supportive and understanding of other people’s differences. And don’t assume that whatever you decide is going to happen, will. It’s not. I’ll make sure of it. Get your nose out of the air and lighten up.
To M: It’s time to put your foot down already. Quit letting everyone walk all over you and stop enabling their behavior. I love you more than words can say and I hate to see you used and abused, like what is happening now. You may have to be mean, but it’ll be worth it to take your life back from the ones that are slowly draining it out. You’ve been through a lot and deserve, no NEED, some time off. Get those toxic people away from you, at least for a little while.
To A: Let him go. You only want to contribute marginally to a relationship and it’s not fair. You cannot expect him to always go along with what you want to do. And keep the political comments to yourself. He is a grown-ass man and can think for himself. Me, too. Recognize that fact.
To B: Stop being judgemental, cause it ain’t right. Guess what? The relatives, neighbors and your friends are not judging you by what your family is doing, so you should not do that to someone else. If they are, you need to set them straight, because that’s just not cool. You can’t control everything that you want to. You can’t force other people to live the way you think is acceptable to society. And besides, society has changed since you were younger. Things, that at one time were not okay, now are common. So deal with it.
To the other P: You need to regroup your priorities. When a sister’s VIOLENT boyfriend’s feelings are more important to you than the sister’s, something is wrong. You are such a hypocrite. Don’t say you want a certain relationship and then at your first opportunity to prove it, switch loyalties. What’s up with that? Why should anyone depend on you to be there, when you never have been? I know I don’t. Clue in.
And last, but not least...
To L: I love you and miss you very much. Yet, deep in my heart, I am a little angry with you. How could you leave things the way you did? Why didn’t you prepare for the future better? You had an idea that things were going to change and still, did nothing. I have moved on and am getting over this, but it’s taking time. So many things, I wish could be different, but this is the way it’s turned out to. It was just too soon. For everyone.
That feels better... for now.
To H: GET A GRIP AND GROW UP! You are an adult now and as such, you are responsible for your own life. No more mooching and no more abusing the love your family has for you. It’s time you get clean for good, get a job and do something with yourself. No one has a perfect life handed to them on a silver platter, they work for it. That includes you. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and get off your lazy ass. Everyone is getting tired of hearing your “Woe as me” stories.
To S: Honey, you have to get better. The help is being offered and you are refusing to take it. No one else can make you get well, we can only encourage you. Now, it’s up to you to take the steps and make things better. Pick yourself up and dust off, you can do it. It’s time to be strong and take positive action. No more sitting there, passively letting life drift by you. We love you and worry about you. Please, do something before it’s too late.
To P: Just shut up already. No body cares about what everybody else is doing wrong in their lives according to you. Hell, your life isn’t something I would even strive for. For once, just try to be supportive and understanding of other people’s differences. And don’t assume that whatever you decide is going to happen, will. It’s not. I’ll make sure of it. Get your nose out of the air and lighten up.
To M: It’s time to put your foot down already. Quit letting everyone walk all over you and stop enabling their behavior. I love you more than words can say and I hate to see you used and abused, like what is happening now. You may have to be mean, but it’ll be worth it to take your life back from the ones that are slowly draining it out. You’ve been through a lot and deserve, no NEED, some time off. Get those toxic people away from you, at least for a little while.
To A: Let him go. You only want to contribute marginally to a relationship and it’s not fair. You cannot expect him to always go along with what you want to do. And keep the political comments to yourself. He is a grown-ass man and can think for himself. Me, too. Recognize that fact.
To B: Stop being judgemental, cause it ain’t right. Guess what? The relatives, neighbors and your friends are not judging you by what your family is doing, so you should not do that to someone else. If they are, you need to set them straight, because that’s just not cool. You can’t control everything that you want to. You can’t force other people to live the way you think is acceptable to society. And besides, society has changed since you were younger. Things, that at one time were not okay, now are common. So deal with it.
To the other P: You need to regroup your priorities. When a sister’s VIOLENT boyfriend’s feelings are more important to you than the sister’s, something is wrong. You are such a hypocrite. Don’t say you want a certain relationship and then at your first opportunity to prove it, switch loyalties. What’s up with that? Why should anyone depend on you to be there, when you never have been? I know I don’t. Clue in.
And last, but not least...
To L: I love you and miss you very much. Yet, deep in my heart, I am a little angry with you. How could you leave things the way you did? Why didn’t you prepare for the future better? You had an idea that things were going to change and still, did nothing. I have moved on and am getting over this, but it’s taking time. So many things, I wish could be different, but this is the way it’s turned out to. It was just too soon. For everyone.
That feels better... for now.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
How Do I Love Thee...
How do I know my husband loves me?
He let me spit my gum out directly into his hand.
We were sitting down for dinner last night and both had gum in our mouth. He simply put his hand up in front of my face and waited. I just looked at him with all the love in my heart and said "Plthh".
He let me spit my gum out directly into his hand.
We were sitting down for dinner last night and both had gum in our mouth. He simply put his hand up in front of my face and waited. I just looked at him with all the love in my heart and said "Plthh".
Monday, May 01, 2006
Oh, yea, I need a title.
There's no real point to this post, other than to update a sadly neglected blog. But update I will!
This weekend was pretty quiet in our household. There's always the usual hubbub of housecleaning, errand running, and phone answering, but even that was kept to a minimum. I did get the opportunity (Hold on, let me stop giggling. I accidentally typed pooportunity first and that was hilarious.) to see the new movie Failure to Launch, starring SJP and Matthew (Matt, as I call him) McConaughey. Good heavens, that man is beautiful. Don't get me wrong, I adore my hubbie, but any person with sight can recognize him for the work of art that he is. There was a part in the movie that really hit my funny bone. It's nothing key to the story, so don't worry. Anyway, at the end, Matt's dad makes one of the rooms of his house into a Naked Room. Which, is basically, where he sits around naked. This cracked me up. And if you know me, you understand why. That's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday, the plumber is coming to rob me of all my hard earned money. Or is it hardly earned money? Either way, it's mine and he's taking it. For my dough, I am getting a brand spanking new drainage pipe. The excitement is almost too much to contain. So, bye bye $1,900, hello properly flushing toilet. At least I will be able to do laundry without worrying if anything is going to explode. So that's good.
Also, I will be helping a friend with some remodeling projects, which means this week is going to be bus- say. Not that I mind, painting is very zen for me. Not to mention, this friend? Is paying us in food. Can't beat that deal with a stick. No, siree.
Ohhhhh, and hopefully, I can get some pics up soon of my cat. She's getting a haircut next week. That is always chock full of entertainment. No matter how many times we've had it done, it still shocks me to see her go from HUGE and fluffy to tiny and hairless. I don't believe she cares for it over much either. Maybe I should ask her. Whatever, she's not vaccuuming that mess of the couch, therefore she gets no real stake in the decision. I told her if she would learn to grow some opposable thumbs, perhaps we could talk about priviliges, but she refuses to listen. Until then, no dice.
All in all, things aren't bad.
This weekend was pretty quiet in our household. There's always the usual hubbub of housecleaning, errand running, and phone answering, but even that was kept to a minimum. I did get the opportunity (Hold on, let me stop giggling. I accidentally typed pooportunity first and that was hilarious.) to see the new movie Failure to Launch, starring SJP and Matthew (Matt, as I call him) McConaughey. Good heavens, that man is beautiful. Don't get me wrong, I adore my hubbie, but any person with sight can recognize him for the work of art that he is. There was a part in the movie that really hit my funny bone. It's nothing key to the story, so don't worry. Anyway, at the end, Matt's dad makes one of the rooms of his house into a Naked Room. Which, is basically, where he sits around naked. This cracked me up. And if you know me, you understand why. That's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday, the plumber is coming to rob me of all my hard earned money. Or is it hardly earned money? Either way, it's mine and he's taking it. For my dough, I am getting a brand spanking new drainage pipe. The excitement is almost too much to contain. So, bye bye $1,900, hello properly flushing toilet. At least I will be able to do laundry without worrying if anything is going to explode. So that's good.
Also, I will be helping a friend with some remodeling projects, which means this week is going to be bus- say. Not that I mind, painting is very zen for me. Not to mention, this friend? Is paying us in food. Can't beat that deal with a stick. No, siree.
Ohhhhh, and hopefully, I can get some pics up soon of my cat. She's getting a haircut next week. That is always chock full of entertainment. No matter how many times we've had it done, it still shocks me to see her go from HUGE and fluffy to tiny and hairless. I don't believe she cares for it over much either. Maybe I should ask her. Whatever, she's not vaccuuming that mess of the couch, therefore she gets no real stake in the decision. I told her if she would learn to grow some opposable thumbs, perhaps we could talk about priviliges, but she refuses to listen. Until then, no dice.
All in all, things aren't bad.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
What a night.
Last night, I enjoyed a nice chilled glass of wine with my dinner. The dinner itself consisted of tator tots and chicken taquitos.
As we were fixing said dinner, this conversation was actually had.
Setting- our kitchen, sometime after American idol but before the 10 o'clock news, hubby and I are scrounging the fridge for a quick something to eat
Andy- Ugh.
Me- What's wrong?
Andy- This mustard. The top is crusty.
Me- Those stupid "no crust" tops do NOT work. In fact, they make it worse, cause then you can't even just wipe the top off. You gotta dig all the mess out of the little rubber flappies that are supposed to keep it clean. What a bunch of bullshit.
Andy- Shyeah.
Oh, my God. Will the lameness never end?
As we were fixing said dinner, this conversation was actually had.
Setting- our kitchen, sometime after American idol but before the 10 o'clock news, hubby and I are scrounging the fridge for a quick something to eat
Andy- Ugh.
Me- What's wrong?
Andy- This mustard. The top is crusty.
Me- Those stupid "no crust" tops do NOT work. In fact, they make it worse, cause then you can't even just wipe the top off. You gotta dig all the mess out of the little rubber flappies that are supposed to keep it clean. What a bunch of bullshit.
Andy- Shyeah.
Oh, my God. Will the lameness never end?
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