Angel over Philip

Hey all. I think this photo is amazing. The picture behind us is really a jigsaw puzzle our friend Tim put together and then had mounted and framed. Tell me you don't see the angel over Philip's head? I swear, I did not doctor this photo up.

Commercial

Have you seen that commercial where the lady is in a row boat with her boyfriend or gentleman caller and suddenly her eyes light up and the announcers start singing..."Gotta go, gotta go..gotta go right now." She has a condition where her bladder needs to be emptied often. I have to wonder, does she not know she has this? Is this the first time this has happened to her? The announcer comes on and lets us all know, she has a reoccuring condition. So my question is why they hell does she get in a row boat in the first place? Did she think the seat lifted up and a toilet appeared? What's up with that?

First Night of school

Well, it had to happen. The summer had to end and school had to start again. Generally I like the end of summer because that means the beginning of fall which is my favorite season...cooler weather, football, the sun isn't so friggin bright on my peepers...but I'm not excited about school this time. I'm taking a 2000 level class on Magazine editing. It's not doing anything for me. Fortunately it's once a week, albeit for three hours every Tuesday from 7:30-10:30.

I had the instructor before for Feature Writing. I snagged an A there although, I have to say, I really deserved it. I managed to get three features published in Oklahoma Women . This was last May, July and September. That was good exposer.

Anyway, maybe there will be kids (yeah right, let's go with that) my age in class. At least I know the instructor is older than me, but not by much. I am what they call a "non-traditional" student. This basically means, I could have given birth to most of the kids in my classes. Okay, not all of them but that would be a good story.

Time for class.

Eddie's Bastard

I just finished this book by William Kowalski. It was so good. He's a great storyteller. The books takes place in Mannville, NY, a fictious town on Lake Erie. The cool part, for me, is that although the town doesn't exist the surrounding towns do. It mentions Angola, NY which is where I grew up, for real! The loved the reference to Buffalo, NY. It made the book that much more fun to read. This is the first book Kowalski wrote that was set in Mannville. I also read his second, The Adventures of Flash Jackson. That was good too but sometimes he got hung up on unneccessary details. I liked them both.

Okay....now I have to do some of my own writing.

Got a confession to make...

Phil went home yesterday..for 11 days! I feel so bad because as I sit here at work I think, "I'm home alone!" and I feel...glee! Pure unadulterated GLEE!!!! I feel guilty about this, but I can't help but feel happy about not having to be subject to baseball on the television or on the Internet; not having to eat at certain scheduled times; not having to plan my getting-ready-for-work activities around anyone elses schedule. I can have Cherios for dinner if I want! I can read in the livingroom because I can keep the television--a novel idea--OFF! I can get a pizza for dinner and it will last me 5 meals! How bad am I?

I might get really deviant too and get a coconut cream pie and eat the whole friggin thing myself right from the TIN...no using a plate (not in one sitting, I'm not THAT bad).

For 11 days I can work on my writing; clean the house; organize my "stuff"; read all the books I have out of the library ...4 right now! Be free!!! Be free!!!! How bad am I?

Check out the Biker Chicks...

I just had to post this here.

Senseless Rules

I have just been informed that i can not listen to the radio after work hours. Even though only a handful of people are here, I can not put on the radio. Okay...whatever. I will do what I need to do to stay employed no matter how totally illogical and petty it might be! It's their rules. If they say I can't wear purple to work, then, by golly, I guess I won't be wearing purple. Never mind the fact there are more important things to dwell on. I'm a reasonable person...especially when faced with the realization I have no other choice.

I am so bad..

Phil is mad at me. I gave away our guest bed. It's a queen and I would love to keep it but I really want to use that room for more than the once a year guest we get and a place to store all fifty zillion TV Guides Phil has collected since Bill Clinton was President.

To be truthful, I had "donation remorse" too. A girl at work said her friend, a single woman, mother of four, was in need of a bed. I've been wanting to get rid of the bed for a while and buy a daybed for the guest room for some time now. I caustionly put my plan into motion when I saw a daybed for sale at an area antiques shop on Broadway. Phil turned a deaf ear to my plan but for some reason I was compelled to move forward with it. Part of me didn't want to "give" it away but then I thought it was against the law to sell mattresses and the next thing I knew I was making a sign for the billetin board in the lunch room. I didn't even put the sign up. Three girls in my department all spoke up for it. They verbally duked it out and decided to give it the person who needed it the most. The winner being the single mom of four. Phil was none to happy when I told him the news.

This morning I went to the antique store to buy the bed...yeah! My luck..it was gone. So the guest bed is now in the pickup bed of Regina's husband's truck on route to a worthy destination, no doubt and my plan has staled.

My new mission is to find a cheap day bed somewhere. Oh, and try to get Phil out of his begruntly charitible funk.

Just an observation...

If there is one thing I am sure of, without a doubt, it is my sexual orientation. That being said, I wish to relay a observation.

Yesterday one of the ladies I work with got a visit from her daughter and her grandkids. The daughter has three kids, one is 3 years old, the other is not two yet and the youngest is 4 weeks. The mother (not the one I work with but the daughter) is a woman of substantial substance. She was wearing a low cut shirt over her ample bossom. Now I have no particular attraction to anyone's bossem but I couldn't help but look...like an accident scene. These things were huge! I'm sure lactating has helped this endevour but I can't even understand how she can stand erect. I didn't get a clear look, not that I wanted one, but I could only imagine they would be like soggy pumperknickle bread loaves with nipples on them. They hung down to her waist. The girl is no more than 25 years old but gravity is not being kind to her even now. I just couldn't believe they could be so big!

No More Books for Me

Yesterday I finished a novel I've been reading for a few days. I was on the stationary bike at the Y with only 27 pages left to read. I ended up staying on the bike longer than my 20 minutes because I just had to finish the darn thing.

"The End!" I proclaimed to no one in particular. The lady one bike down from me didn't even flitch...her headset affixed to her like it belonged there.

I was thinking I should stop at the library and get another book or maybe I could wait until today It made me a little anxious to know I didn't have a book to read. Could I possibly wait until Sunday to go? Not that I don't have enough blog reading to do. I waited...watched a movie, read some blogs, played my Pop Drop game on myway.com.

I worked today. Yes, burned that Sunday oil. Afterward, I went to the library. I combed the isles looking for the book...that one that would grab me, throw me against the wall and scream "read me! read me!" Nothing suited me. Then I got to thinking...reading other people's books is a procrastinating tool my psychy or something inside me uses to get me to not write one myself. So often, when I start reading a book it brings up thoughts of what I could say. I even wrote this blog in my head on the way home...one the way home bookless. The book stops here, people. No more procrasting. I have to seriously write something. This is starting to piss me off because I know I can. I just got to do it.

Gotta clean my house.

I need drugs

At the office, here, we have this medicine chest. It's up on the wall in one of the coffee areas. It is filled with aspirin, non-aspirin, cold capsules, sinus pills, allergy pills, etc. Each one come in little wrappers, two pills per wrapper. It's a wonderful perk for the company to think of supplying us with the medicines we need to keep our heads up high enough to do our jobs. The problem is...there is NEVER any Valium or Darvoset in there. I really think that's not right! It doesn't matter what time of the day I go into it, it is always out! I spoke to management about this and they are going to look into it. My thinking is, the person who replenishes the supply is hording the Valium and they should be punished. We'll have to see how that goes.

I'm in Charge!

My boss is out today as was my co-worker. This means I'm in charge! I'm in charge of myself. I think I might be taking this a little too seriously. I've been really cracking the whip...really pushing myself around a lot. I even sexually harrassed myself! Yeah! I kept slapping myself on the butt saying, "Good job, honey, good job!" I suppose I should go downstairs and report myself to management. I really shouldn't be allowed to do this. I mean there are laws you have to follow when you're in charge. This is gross misconduct on my part. Somebody needs to sit me down and really give me a good talking to. I'll let you know how it works out.