My Dad

Karl Dinkuhn
2/28/1930 - 3/30/09

He was a happy guy.

Dad and his cousin, Marion looking like Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland

Here's 10 things I believe on this Saturday morning...

1. There is something morally, ethically, politically, physically, and any other "-ly" word wrong with waking up on a Saturday morning at 4 with an awful sinus headache. There's absolutely no logic to it.


2. There is no devil. I don't know if the devil is mentioned in the Bible but it doesn't matter because I refuse to believe it. To believe it would lend him too much credit and I refuse to give him that credit.


3. It all comes down to perception.


4. If there is a will; there is a way.


5. You are NEVER too busy to stay in touch with a family member or friend. Simple as that.


6. The word "retreat" has a connotation of relaxation, a stress-free environment, a pleasant experience. It is called a "retreat" so others who are NOT on one will feel envious. So, don't turn around and say it was busy, hectic and I wish I could have spent my time more productively. If that is the case, don't call it a "retreat." Call it a Committee Meeting and see item #3 above.


7. Just because I don't forward emails doesn't mean I don't believe in God or that you and I are not friends.


8. Since my husband's back to work - even at a lower income - I really don't feel the recession.


9. Obama is not trying to bankrupt the nation.


10. I really need to get in shape.

Then it hit me...

Time to write

Okay...I have 10 minutes to write something. It's not going to be thought provoking or anything wonderful. Heck I'd be happy if all it is is grammatically correct at this point. I have an idea of a novel..well, I think it could be an novel. I started it. It made me feel good to at least do that. I know if I just sat down for a bit and just wrote and wrote and wrote (okay type) something would come of it. I have no idea why I just can't do it. All day at work, I think of things I could write about and then when I can do it; I don't. It's kind of like when I leave the house in the morning. I see all the house cleaning I could do if I were home. When I am home, though...I don't do it. Is that what Jim Crouse was saying in his Time in a Bottle song? There never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to when you find them. I think it is.

I'm off to my class - The Joy of Writing!

My hometown

I grew up in Angola and I suppose it will always be "home" but...I'm feeling a little melancholy about the house I grew up in. It was sold on Friday. It's a good thing; good for my brothers so they don't have to deal with it; no more plowing the driveway or mowing the lawn or paying the taxes and the utilities. It's just hard to believe that when I go back "home" there won't be that house to go back to. It's so strange. I blogged about this over the summer as I helped my brothers get the house ready to sell. http://evasboringlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-is-home.html
And now it's a reality. It's like my childhood didn't exist. It's just so surreal.

Tiger and me?

Okay, here's the thing, what Tiger did was wrong. Yeah, it was but what surprises me even more is that I really don't care. I have absolutely no emotional investment in him. I rarely watched him on TV; rarely gave him much thought. I know I felt bad for him when his dad passed away because I know how hard that is to lose a parent but aside from that...nothing. I see friends on Facebook post about how disgusted they were with him. Even local news, whose only connection with Tiger is that he once played in a golf tournament here, has had "Rant" segments and opinion surveys asking the viewers if they thought he was sincere in his apology. I can't even answer it. Mostly because I just don't give a darn. And because my life basically centers around me, I have to question whether maybe something is wrong with me. Why don't I care? I've never wished anything bad on him; never wished for anything good to happen either. So what does that say about me? I ask because...well, it's all about me right? Absolutely.

Here's What I know...

I am the best person I can be. I'm a happy-go-lucky person who loves everything I do. If you don't share this way of thinking, that's okay just stay out of my way.

My strong moral fiber will not allow me to "let sleeping dogs lie" when I see something is wrong...in my personal and professional life. If something is amuck; I'm going to address it even if it's premature. To expect anything less of me, is asking too much.

Wrong is wrong. I don't care how you paint it. It's still wrong.

Why not be happy?

They say that everyone is fighting some battle. I know. Life is so unpredictable and it can be awful. My battles, fortunately, don't include any kind of life-threatening illness...or at least none that I know of. I am so blessed for this and I am thankful. I thank God every night for all the great things he puts in my path; for keeping my family safe and for giving me nice people; good people to work with, be friends with.

My battles are fairly benign. I struggle with a career that I don't feel I own. I feel it's not mine; I just rent it. I try to call my own shots and I guess mostly I do but there is so much I can't do without approval. I struggle with being articulate to convey my ideas and I find my inabilty to do so hinders me. Like so many people, I have lost loved ones and the weight of that loss is heavy on me but as time goes on, fortunately, it is getting lighter.

I find that most of my struggles come from other people, from their disposition towards me. Yes, I know...I allow this to be an issue. I just can't understand why everyone is NOT happy and willing to show it. I know everyone handles stress differently; I get that but to be short, moody and withdrawn just because you're busy..that just doesn't jive with me. At work we are all busy. You can only get so much done in a day and being short with people, frowning, waving them away like a gnat...isn't going to make your load any less. So where's the logic?

Life is just too short to be short. There is nothing good to come out of being grumpy or negative. Nothing! So why? I just don't get it. Now if you are always moody, which I guess wouldn't make you moody because moody would illustrate a high and a low; if you are always in a funk...okay, I'll cut you some slack. If this is how you want to spend your life, whatever. But if you dabble in good uplifting moods from time to time and find some kind of kick out of lulling your co-workers into a false sense of commorodity...well, knock it off. Eventually they are going to catch on; throw their hands in the air and be done with you.

Lunch hour Rambling

It's a new year. Wow. On New Year's Eve, it dawned me that the new century is starting too. For some reason I kept thinking it starts next year. Of course it starts on the zero; what was I thinking?

Truth of the matter is, I have nothing to blog about. Not really. It's back to reality and quite frankly, reality sucks. Oh...I know! It can get so much worse...I have absolutely no right to complain. It just feels so lackluster. But I don't know what I was expecting.

I am giving up phospheric Acid. No more diet Dr Pepper (my favorite is with cherry); no more Coke, Pepsi and a number of other softdrinks. This acid is not what an osteopenia woman should be consuming on a regular bases. So, I'm going cold turkey. For lent I'm going to give up all sodas and eventually I will kick the caffeine. But one thing at a time.

I found a can in the frig here at work and my heart raced a little and I actually yelled out, "Oh no!" My friends sitting in the lunch room asked me what was wrong. I showed them the can and didn't hide my disappointment that I had to NOT drink it. It so much had my name on it! But I was good.

Well, that's all for this lunch hour.

Christmas Remembered

Christmas on the Wooden Hill
By Eva Mahoney

The wooden hill started in the front hall, just under the window that faced the driveway. The first five steps had the window on the right and the banister on the left. The next five had wall and railing on either side. Then came the landing with another window on the right. The stairs continued to the left.

The stairs were strong, wooden and, if memory serves me well, cherry, or at the very least, stained red. Most of the steps had a black vinyl mat attached to them with a tack in each corner of the mat. Those steps that did not, still had the four tacks and black specks of vinyl trapped under them. Those tacks were prone to snag a sock or cloth slipper.

This was long before deep pile shag carpet covered the whole downstairs and the stairs. Long before my dad covered the walls with paneling. My dad did all the work himself, he boosts then and now. Oblivious to him, was the fact he finished two years after shag and paneling went out of style. Before the remodel, when the stairs were just wood and the walls that surrounded them covered in bird printed wallpaper, in the late sixties, it was on these steps, the lower three, where my brothers and I waited patiently for the return of our parents each Christmas morning.

Mom and dad had decided to supplement their incomes with money earned from a morning paper route. They did not have to deliver to the doorstep; they just had to shoot a paper into their respective customer’s paper tube on the side of the road.

Their motor route started at 4:30 each morning, giving them the opportunity to get back in time to get my brothers and me off to school.

I remember so clearly those pre-teen Christmas mornings, when we awoke, Mom and Dad would have been long gone. Flannel clad and sleepy eyed, my brothers and I would come down the stairs to see what Santa had brought us. I believe, now, we were exceptional children because we never peeked. We may have picked up a box, wrapped in Christmas paper, or if Santa had run out, and he often did, the Sunday comics. We may have shaken it but we never tore the paper. We just knew we had to wait.

From the vantage point of the front hall window, Jim, Ed and I could see the snow covered driveway as we waited on the stairs for the “paper car” to return. We would play a game to see who could guess correctly whether or not the next car was dad’s ’63 Plymouth Valiant. We couldn’t see it, but dad’s habit of grinding the gearshift often gave it away.

“I hear it,” one of us would say with a look of anticipated glee, as we knew it meant the disclosure of our bounty under the tree. It would quickly fade when it turned out to be someone else instead. Winters in Western New York were long, cold and snowy and Christmas Day was always hit the hardest.

The paper route on a Sunday would take our folks over three hours to complete, but on Christmas it was exceptionally longer. Perhaps it just seemed like it was took longer. The paper car had more three foot drifts to plow through as the Village crews wouldn’t do it that early on a holiday. And plow it did. We could always depend on “the paper car.”

Finally the time would come. The paper car, covered in snow except for the windows, made its last right turn into our driveway. Black ice chucks, called Clinkers, had frozen around the wheels. Mom and Dad emerged, dressed in union suits with hoods, scarves around their necks and thick leather gloves, the kind cowboys use to fix barb wire fences. Jim, Ed and I would cheer and race to the back door to greet them.
“Merry Christmas,” exclaimed my mom as she walked in the door. Her glasses would steam up when they hit the warm house air.

“Merry Christmas,” we’d say in unison.

Dad would walk in behind her and impatiently try to get around her to get into the kitchen.

“Karl, you can’t go in there with all that snow on your boots,” mom would warn.

“I just want to get the coffee pot going,” he’d say, as he would go in to do just that. Mom would, with glasses in hand roll her eyes but knew there was no stopping him. She’d go downstairs to the basement to remove her wet clothes. Dad would then follow.

One of the greatest things about the paper route was the gifts mom and dad would find in the paper tubes of their satisfied customers. Sometimes it was a bottle of wine or whiskey, but mostly it was some kind of baked good: cookies, kugen, stolen or some other amazing confection. All of these had notes attached announcing their appreciation for such fine service.

Christmas Day offered our family the best breakfast, albeit not overly nutritious, but sweet and satisfying. Mom would put some of them in the oven to warm. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg coupled with fresh coffee filled the house. So wonderful it was that my brothers and I didn’t mind waiting to open gifts. Well, at least until we had eaten our fair share. Then we’d beg mom and dad to move their coffee drinking to the living room and under the tree.

We had a ritual. Dad would hand out the gifts and when they were distributed we would open them. Mom and Dad would watch us, looking on from one kid to the next; getting a charge out of our reactions. Mom and dad didn’t have a lot of money to spend on expensive Christmas gifts but the gifts they had for us exceeded the underwear or toys they gave us. I think the paper route helped us all with a tradition none of us will ever forget and it all started on the wooden hill.

I may lose my "woman" card....

The TV is flooded with ads for jewelry...diamond earrings are only $799. I told Phil that if he bought me those I'd divorce him. I think it's absolutely insane to spend that kind of money on something you wear that you can't even see unless you look in a mirror. Even if you could see it, on your finger or your wrist, it's still insane. The ads say the guy should spend three month's of salary on the engagement ring! Aw...forgot that. If you have three month's of salary laying around, buy me a car.

I remember when we got engaged, I picked out my ring and it didn't cost even a week's salary. Another girl in my office got engaged around the same time, her rock was so big she had to turn the diamond around into her hand if she wanted to get her hands in her pocket. I know...most woman don't even put their hands in their pockets but I'm just saying, if she wanted to she couldn't. Of course, she was an attorney and so was her new finance'. But even still, I just can't see it.

Spending a lot of money on jewelry, and what I mean by a lot would be more than $15 is so unnecessary. Today we saw an ad for a Craftsman tool that does a bunch of things. This I want! I'm serious. I'd rather sand something while wearing my tiny diamond.

Also I'm not that interested in shoes. Yeah...take my "woman card"...I get it.

The things you learn along the way

The title of this post would make a great title for a blog. For sure.

I found out from TPTB (The Powers that Be) that...and I didn't know this or even think it possible...if you give a gift to a co-worker at work, the company is liable for whatever damages that may be incurred by that gift. I interpret this to mean that if I give my friend a paperweight and she takes the gift home and throws it at her cheating husband, the SOB can sue my company! Isn't that fantastic! Who knew? I bet none of those other companies who encourage gift giving by playing Dirty Santa or Secret Santa or any kind of Santa don't know what potential trouble they are putting themselves in. All that gift exchanging is a lawsuit in the making.

Dwelling on the Obvious

Hi. I posted about this briefly on Facebook but I'm going to elaborate a bit.

I'm amazed at how much it bothers me when people say things just for the sake of having something to say. When your friend's brother dies, people say, "It's just so sad." I'm like thinking to myself, "you think?"

My 15 year old niece said, "I think cruelty to animals is wrong." I chalk that up to youth.

The other day, Howie Mandel said on Deal or No Deal, "the difference between $5000 and 1/2 a million is huge." And he was so emphatic about it, like he was saying something we just couldn't possibly know until he shared this insightful pearl of knowledge.

My husband does it every day....says something that really doesn't need to be said. Today he got the Christmas tree out of the closet and told me, not only that he did this, but that he also put the tree on the table in the livingroom. The table where it belongs. The same table where we are putting it up on. Like, if he hadn't told me this, I'd be looking all over for that darn tree. I chalk this up to just being a guy thing.

I could say that this is not the end of the world. That there are more important things to worry about than this but then, I'm be guilty of the exact behavior that makes me nuts. So I'm just going to bed. :)

This is the best picture

I came across this picture today. Actually I have seen it several times but it wasn't until today that I realized how symbolic it is. Yeah, my folks are waving good bye here...off to a new chapter in their being...more like a new book. I think it will be the best book ever!

Where is your Nirvana?

Just curious where would you like to be if there were no restrains. If you could have any life; what would it be like. My brother, Jim told me once he'd live miles away from everyone...just have land all around him, no neighbors and no visitors. He insists that would be his heaven while alive. I think I'm a little more social. I'd want people around me..good friends, family and no lawn to mow. I'd love to live in a big apartment building with a doorman, of course...like Samantha Who? Or like the apartment Frazier Crane had...with a view of something spectacular. And there would be no unwanted critters...bugs, and rodents. I'd need some work...not the work I do now...something fun, like web mastering or laying out newsletters. I'd love that. There would also be times for naps...lots of naps. That's all for now.

Home Alone

I'm home alone again for a week. It's Thanksgiving week and I know it sounds sad to be alone during this "family" time but I am, right now anyway, okay with it. I don't mind it a bit.

I dropped Phil off at the airport yesterday afternoon. It was sad to see him go but I'm happy for his mom who is so happy to have him home with her. I know she misses him and I want him to see her as much as he can while he can. I am not as sad to see him off as I am worried about him. I fear for his safety. I know he's a big boy and can take care of himself, I just know that his niceness could be used against him by some conniver just looking money.

So now I'm alone. Well, just me and Becca. I love this independence. I have no idea why this is, but I have been much more productive with Phil not here. Okay, I did sleep in until after 11am but once I was up I pretty much hit the ground running. I puttered around the house while the Bills played. I sat down several times to watch them but then I was up again...just doing stuff. After the game I was out to Walmart. Came back, put the groceries away and took advantage of the nice weather and cleaned my car out. I took care of some other things, made dinner, cleaned out the pantry, cleaned the kitchen floor, cleaned the toilet, put stuff away. It was productive.

I have a lot more planned; most cleaning up, sorting, organizing. I don't know why, when Phil is here I hate doing these things. It's hard to explain.

It's all in my head?

My back has been bothering me quite a bit. An Wednesday, I was in tears. This was a new pain for me. It was in my tailbone area. If I pushed on my tailbone, it didn't hurt. The only time it hurt was sitting and then rising from sitting. I had never felt this before. I emailed one of the ladies at work who is the office manager for an ortho doc near my office. She set me up for a visit with this doc for Thursday morning.

Thursday morning came and as I drove to the office of this clinic, I realized there wasn't much pain anymore. I can't explain it. How can I be in tears one day and then less than 24 hours later, not be in pain. This tailbone pain had been bothering me for days. And then it was gone.

I wonder if some of my pain issues are just in my head. Could it be? Or maybe it was divine intervention. I thing I'll go with that.

You know those emails...

..that say "if you believe in God, you will forward this on." I believe in God but I find these emails insulting. Does God's opinion of me really hinge on whether or not I forward these emails?

Or what about the 'I love you' emails. Okay, I have friends that I can say I really care about, and maybe I love them to some degree but would I help them move? Maybe one or two of them but not half my office. I care about them but I'm not so sure on the love part. I think there are other people in my office who are getting weary of these emails too. I'm getting them from people I don't know because the sender is just hitting "reply to all" in an effort to save time.

With these emails you want to forward them because you don't want people to think you don't love them. And it's not so much that you really love them but if one of them says she loves another then by golly I love them too. It's a almost political. I'd like to send out a disclaimer.
"If i don't forward an email but you get it from another, just know I love you and I believe in God, okay?"

I'm done belly aching

Crap happens. Let's move on. I'm tired of injustice, feeling cheated and sad. I don't want anymore discouraging anything...no discouraging talk. Don't tell me the walls are falling apart around you, embrace the breeze.

Don't go on and on about how the Bills suck and are a waste of time...they are who they are and they're not going away. Celebrate the victories and ignore the defeats.

I happen to think Obama rocks! Don't be a part of the problem; be a part of the celebration. He's not going away. Embrace his ideas, his ideals. Show a little respect. I believe in my heart, he's not here to ruin America. He's out to try his best to solve our problems...adversity isn't going to help! Let's get on the bandwagon.

Sometimes people will disappoint you. Yep..it's going to happen but believe they are in your life for a reason...so you can distinguish the winners from the losers. Ignore the losers, you have only so much time...use it on the winners; not the winers.

This is my own pep talk. I thought I'd just share it. ;)

Go Bills!

When will I "get over it?"

I still cry a lot. I'm getting a little concerned about it because I can't keep crying over my dad's death. I have sort of gotten over my mom's death...to a greater degree but I just miss them both so much. The thing is with my dad that makes me so upset is that I just didn't know he'd stop communicating with us after they started giving him the heavy doses of morphine. I just had too much I needed to say, too many questions I wanted him to answer. And then he was so out of it. You could see he wanted to say something but he just couldn't get the words out. The people at hospice said he could hear us but he couldn't respond. And there's just too much I needed to know.

What happened to those days...

when you gave a gift to a teenager (niece, grandkid, nephew, cousin...whatever) and she/he sat down and wrote a thank you note or at the very least, got on the phone to thank you for it? Or their parents got after them if they didn't do the thank you note/call?

Privacy at Work

Do employees have privacy at work? Are they even allowed it? Personally I don't believe so. If you have something personal to discuss with another co-worker and another co-worker needs you for work...can you tell the working worker, "hang on, I'm having a private conversation of a personal matter with ___"? I would have to believe management would rather you get the work done. No?

If you have personal items in your office...whatever, typing up your divorce papers or something, and a co-worker sees them, can you complain that the co-worker is invading your privacy? I'm not so sure.

Information may be confidential ...like payroll records...but your desk is not an extension of your home. I don't think you can claim an invasion of privacy at work. And I think management would support that.

Wonder what the will tackle on next week's episode of The Office?

Racial Profiling

Okay, I am not educated in the matter of racial profiling but I still have an opinion. Please feel free to correct me if I am wrong but what are the authorities to do? Wasn't it Muslins who are responsible for the first World Trade attack and then 911? No? So if a Muslin in full garb wants to fly in any airplane, is it wrong for security to be concerned? No? I don't get that. Yes, not ALL Muslins are bad, actually only a few are but if I get run over by a red car, doesn't it make sense to want to steer clear of red cars? That seens like a normal reaction.

Now if I, a white woman, is walking down the street with a black man and the black man gets singled out because a crime as occurred but I don't...okay..that's bad.

I just don't know what the authorities are to do as they try to protect our country. I know, I'm quite the naivette (is that a word?)

When I walk through the perfume section of a department store, the lady wants to spray me because I'm a female. Is that gender profiling? Maybe I don't like perfume. Just because I'm a woman, she shouldn't assume I like it.

Equality

Quotes to Help You Follow Your Dreams

Quotes to Help You Follow Your Dreams: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
Eleanor Roosevelt"

Thank you God!!!!

My husband got a job!!!!! Time to celebrate!

Dream House? More like a Nightmare

I just happened to watch the tail end of a show on the DYI Network. This husband and wife built their "dream house". First of all, how does hiring a bunch of contractors to do most of the work count as DIY? Because you pay for it?

Secondly...this couple was so happy to have this new 3800 square foot home. It was, no doubt, beautiful and spacious. It even came with customized little kid sinks in the kids bathroom! Very cool. But how can it be a dream when your new mortgage payment is $3800 a month! Holy crap. These people are not famous celebrates or Jon and Kate..just average Joes building a life. The man says into the camera, "I have to keep telling myself, 'this is mine!'" Um...excuse me....no it's not: it's the banks! These poor people are one short layoff away from financial ruin. Where's Dave Ramsey when you need him?

I truly hope the DIY Network is going to slip them a couple mortgage payments. It is absolutely insane. I'd never want to be in that kind of debt. And I never will.

100 Things about me Revisited

In September of 2007 I wrote 100 things about me. I need to revisit this list because some have changed; some are new.

1 - I am not too crazy about people who are grumpy. (Still true)
2 - I especially don't care for people who are selectively grumpy. (Still true...what I mean by selectively grumpy...they are grumpy to some and not so grumpy to others. If you're going to be grumpy to me, be grumpy to your boss too. Why not give your boss the benefit of who you really are?)
3 - I believe every day is a gift. Even Mondays. (Unfortunately I'm turning into one of those people who work for the weekends. I tried not to; I tried to be appreciative of every day, but lately I hurt too much. Maybe this will change back, I hope so.)
4 - I believe in Love. (Still do.)
5 - I believe that men hear on a different frequency than woman. (Way true)
6 - I can do anything I put my mind to. (Well, climbing on the roof to hammer in a few loose shingles would take a lot of thinking.)
7 - Phil is my dreamboat. (He's a ship alright.)
8 - I buy all my clothes at thrift shops (not underwear, shoes, socks, hoses)(So true)
9 - I'm thankful there are some size 12 women who donate their Liz Wear to thrift shops. (So true)
10-I love football. (Oh yeah!)
11- I love the Buffalo Bills. (Oh yeah!)
12- I never cared much for Jim Kelly (although, I understand he thought highly of me) (The CEO of my office went to high school with Jim. He shed a whole new light on him for me. So I care now.)
13- I love to write. (YES!)
14- I procrastinate too much on my writing. (YES!)
15 - I love to learn new software. (YES!)
16 - I couldn't live without my computer (okay I could but I won't like it.) (YES!)
17- I don't think we should explore outer space or look for life elsewhere. (A fly comes to my table, I kill him) (Sorry, still true.)
18 - People who won't let you in should be avoided. (Life is short, get to the rub.)
19-You are never too busy if you really want to do something. (Schedule it like an appointment to the dentist.)
20- I use the library for books (as opposed to buying them) (Yepper)
21 - Don't tell me you programmed my phone number in you phone if you're never going to call me back. (YES!)
22- My favorite color is clear. (It's really this color.)
23 - I don't like poems if they're obscure. (Life's too short, spell it out and let's move on.)
24 - Say what you mean. (Life's too short, spell it out and let's move on.)
25- My favorite authors are Jonathan Tropper, William Kolwalski, and Richard Russo. (Still true)
26 - I love sleeping with the window open even when it's 40 degrees outside. (Still true)
27 - Fall is my favorite season. (Actually it's more like Indian Summer..after the first frost when things are dying or hyberating.)
28 - I love cheesecake, coconut cream pie and pecan bread. (Still true)
29- I'm addicted to diet Coke. (Now it's Diet Dr Pepper with Cherry)
30 - I wish the weather wasn't so bad in Western NY so I would be more apt to move back there. (Still true)
31 - I dislike people who are rude or short. (not in height) (Still true)
32 - I like TLC and shows about Flipping houses. (Not watching as much of these.)
33 - I wish I was more handy (see number 6) (Still true)
34 - I'm glad I'm tall. (Still true)
35 - I'm secure in the knowledge that my feet are big. (Found out they are actually bigger than I thought. I've been wearing shoes two sizes too small but I've only gone up 1 size. No way am I wearing a Mens' 11 1/2!!!!!)
36 - I hate it when I repeat myself. (Still true)
37 - I hate it when other people repeat themselves.(Still true)
38 - I love dogs (Got a dog since 9/07...she's my girl)
39 - I'm not too crazy about cats. (My brother in NY got two and they are very entertaining.)
40 - I like having breakfast at IHOP or Dennys. (Don't go there as much though)
41 - I like having cereal for a snack. (Instead of ice cream)
42 - People at work should always say "good morning" and "so-long" at the beginning and end of each workday. (It would be nice..but..oh well)
43- I believe in God. (Still big time true)
44 - My first car was a '79 Duster I named "Jackson" because it was Brown and "running on empty." (Can't erase the past.)
45 - I took a small pocketbook from a jacket hanging in the cloak room in kindergarden and I hid it in the leaves by my house. I felt very guilty for a long time. (Can't erase the past.)
46 - My first boyfriend's name was Donny. (Can't erase the past.)
47 - My favorite football players were Doug Flutie and Frank Reich. (Still true)
48 - I named my first dog "Elliot Garfield" after the main character in the Goodbye Girl played by Richard Dreyfess. (Can't erase the past.)
49 - I have Marfan's Syndrome. (Can't erase the past.)
50 - I quit smoking 6 years ago for good. (Almost 8 years ago....I hate it. I think smokers should wake up and smell the cancer.)
51 - I like NA beer. (Not drinking much of it.)
52 - I hate to shower (but I do it anyway) (Still true and I still do.)
53 - I drive a standard. (Nope...bought an automatic in August 08)
54 - I wish naps at work were mandatory. (If only)
55 - I have a brother named Jim and a brother named Ed. (Can't erase the past.)
56 - I call Ed "Weird" (Can't erase the past.)
57 - He answers. (Can't erase the past.)
58 - I can't have kids. (Can't erase the past.)
59 - I'm finally okay with that. (Not so sure of this. I feel really deprived.)
60 - After being a victim of a tornado at ten, I was afraid of the wind until I was 16. (Can't erase the past.)
61 - I hate bugs. (See #27)
62 - I'm not an outdoor person. (Still so true especially when it is skankin hot like it is right now.)
63 - I want to live in a condo. (Yes!)
64 - I grew up outside of Buffalo NY but have never been to NYC. (Still true)
65 - I wish my neighbors would invite me over for an NA beer and a football game on a Sunday. (I have given up on this.)
66 - I take an antidepressant (Oh yeah)
67 - I think it works. (Oh yeah)
68- I can't tell the difference between regular TV and high definition. (Still can't)
69 - I sometimes wear men's slacks and shoes. (Still do)
70 - My husband and I have the exact same hand span. (Still do)
71 - I like a beef BOB from Taco Bueno. No sour cream. (Not so much)
72 - I see no logic in racing to a red light. (Still do)
73 - My husband could go to a baseball game with another woman and I would be okay with that. (Still okay with this although I know a few woman who disagree.)
74 - My husband can do anything with another woman who's willing if I am not. (Still okay with this although I know a few woman who disagree.)
75 - I'm lactose intolerant. (Still am)
76 - I have 6 more hours to go to get my bachelors degree. (Nope! I'm done...a college grad!)
77 - I'm addicted to Minesweeper. (Now it's Letter Linker..can't get past level 8...makes me nuts)
78 - I'm photophobic. (Still)
79- I love shade. (Oh, big time)
80- I used to do stand up comedy. (Can't erase the past.)
81 - I once sold a joke to Margaret Smith. (Can't erase the past.)
82 - I've published some articles in the Buffalo News and Oklahoma Women. (Can't erase the past.)
83 - I think Mike Rowe (Dirty Jobs) is the Mike Defeno (character on Desperate Housewives) of the Discovery Channel. (Not watching his much)
84 - I think Ty Pennington is Ernest with sex appeal. (Still do...you know what I'm saying Vern?"
85 - CEOs should not make more money than all their staff combined. (Oh yeah)
86 - Politicians shouldn't be in it for the money. (Oh yeah)
87 - Teachers shouldn't be in it for the money. (Oh yeah)
88- Firefighters are under paid. (Oh yeah)
89 - The only thing that will make the world's countries get along would be a visit from outer space with an ultimatum. (Oh yeah)
90- I miss my Momma. (And now my dad!)
91 - Being sad is a waste of time. (I waste a lot of time)
92 - A dead end is a place to turn around (thank you Y) (Oh yeah)
93 - You should learn something new every day. (Oh yeah)
94 - Not everything is black and white. (Oh yeah)
95 - I h8 it when people write "how r u?" (4sure)
96 - And, it's not "your the best" or "their they go"...ah...makes me crazy. (ewww)
97 - I love Country music (Oh yeah)
98 - I want Phil to do this. (It would be nice)
99 - I'm fearful of a home invasion. (Front door is locked by 10pm...would be 8 if Phil didn't object.)
100 - I drive a Focus. (Bought a Hyundai Accent)

Vacation my foot

Hey....I'm writing from my brother's house in cool Angola NY. Sorry to my Okie friends sweating it out while I enjoy cool 75 degree weather. It was raining a lot last week....because my brothers and I were having an estate sale, of course. The sale was over yesterday so today was sunny and just plain beautiful.

Report from the estate sale: we did pretty good; got rid of quite a bit, some big items: dressers, refrigerator, sofas and a recliner. There is still a ton of the little things, household items, coffee mugs, glassware, plasticware, knicky knacky things. I started boxed those up for the Salvation Army.

What do I do with my mom's wedding dress? This is a tough one. I do have sentimental attachment to it...sort of but really-do I need it? I almost feel obligated to take it home. I have my own gown, stored away. I really could go on without another. But I feel bad. I certainly can't throw it out, so what? Know anyone who collects vintage 1950's wedding gowns? I'd love to have room in my house for a Karl and Mary Museum but....well, I don't. Oh what to do.

I sold a Bible. I really didn't know there were Bibles in with the books. I just let them go. Again, how many Bibles does one need to retain. The woman who bought the Bible, brought it back. This is kind of spooky. In the Bible my mother wrote that this particular one had to remain in our family. She actually wrote this and ended it with ...."I will know." Almost like a threat. This kind of freaked the woman out so she brought it back and would not take a refund. So now I have this Bible.

Tomorrow is my last full day here. I have a ton to get done. I need to do as much as I can because I don't want it to all fall on my brothers. They have done so much.

Some cool old photos

I found some cool old photos that really struck me. Thought I'd share.

This photo is about 75 years old of my Uncle Bob. . Aside from the ears (just a tad big), this little boy is perfect...perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect lips.

This is my Aunt Dianne. The photo is probably 50 years old. I have no idea whose house this is but I love the lines of the house. The person taking the photo must have been laying on the ground. It's just a cool shot.

I love this picture of my mom and Aunt Marie (mom's twin) and my Gramma K (left) and Gramma D (right). Gone are the days when you dressed up for brunch at Howard Johnson. I suspect Gramma K raised her girls to dress up for most outings. I can recall my mother questioning my attire when I would take a bus into Buffalo (NY) to go shopping. When she was my age (at the time 17 or so) going shopping at AM&A's or Hengerers was this big event. I guess she was from the June Cleaver era where you dressed up to clean the house. I find this all quite fascinating.

God's Wife

I got this email today. Usually I just delete these kind of things but this one really struck me as something to share:

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was:

A four-year-old child, whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman, who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his mother asked him what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy just said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry..'

*********************************************

Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a picture of a family. One little boy in the picture had a different hair color than the other members. One of her
students suggested that he was adopted.

A little girl said, 'I know all about adoption, I was adopted.'

'What does it mean to be adopted?'asked another child.

'It means', said the girl, 'that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy!'

*********************************************
Whenever I'm disappointed with my spot in life, I stop and think about little Jamie Scott.

Jamie was trying out for a part in the school play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though she feared he would not be chosen.

On the day the parts were awarded, I went with her to collect him after school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement. 'Guess what, Mom,' he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a lesson to me....'I've been chosen to clap and cheer.'

*********************************************

An eye witness account from New York City , on a cold day in December, some years ago: A little boy, about 10-years-old, was standing before a shoe store on the roadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold.

A lady approached the young boy and said, 'My, but you're in such deep thought staring in that window!'

'I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes,'was the boy's reply.

The lady took him by the hand, went into the store, and asked the clerk to get half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her.

She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with the towel. By this time, the clerk had returned with the socks.. Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes. She tied up the remaining pairs of socks and gave them to him.. She patted him on the head and said, 'No doubt, you will be more comfortable now.'

As she turned to go, the astonished kid caught her by the hand, and looking up into her face, with tears in his eyes, asked her.

'Are you God's wife?'

I can't get over it

I can't get over the fact that my parents are gone. I know, I'm such a downer. I can't get over my husband being jobless. I can't get over my childhood house will be sold, all it's contents distributed to nameless estate sale buyers who have no idea the history behind that sofa or dining room table. I can't get over my time in NY is consider vacation by my employer when it's not like I'm going to be relaxing by the pool, drinking umbrellaed cocktails. I can't get over the constant pain in my back and shoulders. I can't get over that the past is the past and I'm supposed to move on. I can 't get over being childless. I can't get over the fact that none of my friends ever comment on my blog.

I know, they say everyone is fighting some kind of battle. I am sure that is true for many....and many are in much worse shape than I am. I get that. But there are others: blonder, thinner, richer with parents who are alive and well; with children albeit a bit rebellious. When the battle is deciding if they want hardwood vs cermanic tile; red or white wine; a Porsche vs a Lexis. I want those kind of battles.

Yes, I need an attitude adjustment - I'd be the first to tell you that. I need something. My dad would say, "You need a kick in the head." Yeah, he would say that. My mom would tell me to appreciate what I got. I know this is true. I get that. I wish she was here to tell me.....go ahead mom..give me a piece of your mind! I so welcome it.

Who is this?

Where is home?

After your folks pass on, where is home? I'm going in a few weeks to get my parent's house ready to sell...including a huge estate sale. This is not going to be easy....I was raised in this house from 2 years old until I left for the last time at 22 years old; with my shorts in a twist, sort of, over issues with my mom. God I wish so much I could go back. So much I wish. I complained about the house; it was too cold in the winter, too hot in the summer, the wall to wall shag was way outdated and my dad's handy work of paneling the entire downstairs was...well, a great work of craftsmanship, but it was paneling with dropped ceilings and florescent lighting, who does that? And now, looking back, I loved that house.

I remember my first real boyfriend, Myron...(yeah Myron....who does that to a kid?) I knew my parents wouldn't like me bringing him to my bedroom but it was really the only place where we could talk without being heard by other ears. My mother, of course, was against it..."bring your boyfriend to your bedroom? You just might as well go down to the orphanage and get you a kid!" But she conceded to let my dad decide. He looked at his watch and said, "Okay...go!" And he proceeded to do mock clock watching.

Now my room was great because it was really all mine. I could paint and decorate it as I wish. The walls were made of some kind of press board which meant there was no issue with sticking tacks in it. I tacked an entire wall of furry material to it. I painted feet up another wall in red. It was my room. I painted a picture of tree at sunset on the wall behind the door. I let my creative go.

There was no heat upstairs except for whatever drifted up the steps. There was a small gas heater in the bathroom that I wasn't allowed to light until I was 15 years old or so.

Recently I've come across old photos of the place...before the shag and the panelling and the drop ceiling...when the floors throughout most of it were hard wood and the wallpaper had faded cardinals and pinkish flowers.

And now I am going home to say good bye to a home I haven't lived in for more than half my life. Having said that, it shouldn't be so hard....should it? But it is...hard to say good bye to something you thought would be there forever.

Lunchtime Ramblings

Lately I've been thinking about feet. Well, mostly my feet are hurting me. We had a contest at work to see which team could walk the most in a week. The company even handed out little pedometers to count our steps. Ever since then, my feet are hurting me.

I went to Compton's Shoes over on 50th and Portland last week. The owner, a very knowledgeable "pediologist" told me that my shoes are too small. Now, keep in mind my feet are....well, for a woman...a bit on the large size. I wear a ladies 11 or a mens 9 1/2. He tells me I should be wearing a ladies 13 and a men's 11 1/2! Yeah!

The owner tells me that most people are wearing the wrong sized shoe because feet are not measured by the length but rather by the width of the widest part of the foot. But to add insult to injury, my feet are extra narrow..AA.

I'm not a vain person; I really don't buy into paying for the latest styles or fashions but I have my limits. I mean a size 13! I might as well have my toes webbed! Over the weekend I went to Walmart (I know...not exactly a shoe store) and bought a pair of men's sneakers in size 10 1/2. This is it! I'm not going any bigger!! I will admit, my feet ARE better.

Dr Seuss said it...

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

My Nephew is so cute

Okay...these are NOT recent pics but I came across them today and had to post them. This is Jon. He's such a cutie.

God I love reinforcement

I've made an amazing discovery again. I knew it all along but it is so grand when you find out your opinion turns out to be dead on; when something happens that proves you are right. I wish I could go into specifics but since my blog is read by so many and I am, basically, a mini-celeb, I have to watch what I say to not offend. But trust me! There is safety in numbers. And I'm a happy little gal tonight.

Me and Dad

I texted my dad the other day. He was never very good with responding. I guess he's just busy.

This is quite lovely

My Friends

I work for and with the most amazing people. While I was away my friends and co-workers got together to collect funds for me and Philip. They knew Phil was unemployed and I was taking days off without pay (I was out of PTO). These people totally blew me away when I got back and they handed me three sympathy cards filled with condolences, signatures and over five hundred dollars. I cried. I have never experience such thoughtfulness and concern from people I work with. Never! Everyone has been so totally supportive. I feel so blessed.

It got me thinking about things that I have written about last year...about friendships and where the line is drawn; about when is a co-worker a friend and not just a co-worker. This is proof positive that I was right. If you give a little of yourself in a philanthroistic way or in a caring way...you have crossed the line. It doesn't mean that if I hold a door open for someone at the mall, I can expect an invitation to her birthday party but I did a friendly thing to someone I don't know. My co-worker friends did a wonderful thing with their support towards me during a difficult time. I don't expect invitations to their kids birthday parties; I don't expect anything at all but I know they are my friends. And I truly appreciate them!

(The photo is of a Halloween pumpkin I carved for a contest in October. HPI is in the background, the name of the company. All the signs stuck in the pumpkin are entities HPI owns or operates. I won 3rd place.)

My Dad

This evening I sat next to my dad's bed at hospice. Each time I looked to see if he was breathing I felt relieved to see that he was. I know it is better for him to go but still I was relieved.

I talked to my friend Liz back in Oklahoma. She said that she felt that my mom was in my dad's room with me tonight. After I hung up I said out loud to my mom that she needed to take my dad to heaven with her. Not 30 minutes passed when I looked at my dad and noticed his breathing had slowed down. I held his hand and told him it was okay. He took his last breathes and he was gone. I truly believe my mom played a role in this.

His new journey has just begun. I find peace knowing he too is at peace.

Thanks Jess for your prayers.

This is the scoop

I'm in NY visiting my dad. It has been a draining twelve days. Dad is in Hospice care. It's in God's hands. On Wednesday 3/26 the doctor said she didn't think he'd survive the night. It is now Sunday night...he won't give up. His heart is strong. Even his lungs are strong. He is comfortable now...high on morphine. All he does is sleep and breathe every 8 seconds. His right eye is at half mass, looking straight ahead. Hospice says he can hear me, but I'm not so sure. I have been sleeping in a cot next to him for five days. I will need to write some stories about him and our family...I have many to tell.

1 Step forward...2 steps back

When Phil got laid off I was worried. I am worried but I thought things were going to be okay when I found out the Stimulus Package included help for those on COBRA. I thought, this is great...he can get COBRA at a 65% discount which means we could use the $200 we would be paying on my health insurance for other bills, like food and paying the utilities. This would help us stay afloat until he found something else. Well, I find out it won't work this way. Because he has the ability to go on my plan...never mind that it's $360 a month more out of my check...he's not eligible for the COBRA discount. So..that's that.
And I know it can be so much worse. I get that! It's just frustrating. But it is what it is.

Here's My take...

Okay...the bill has been signed..it's going to happen this way so we need to stop fighting it. I know, I know, there are so many who feel this is the wrong path. I can't say I disagree with you but the reality of it all is that it is what it is and we have to stop fighting it. Being against the Stimulus Package is fine but it's how it is! Like death...you gotta do it! Yeah, you can kick and scream and hope and pray but it's still going to happen. Stop fighting it.

My biggest fear is that so many on-air personalities (Rush, Quinn & Rose and just about 90% of those on XM radio) are going to feed into the lazy American..enable them to be..well, lazy. This mass complacency will take over. "Well, the whole thing was stupid so let's screw the government and take them for all we can." People won't really look for work. Why bother if the benefits are there to stay on unemployment? What the media needs to do is embrace the programs this bill allows and talk it up in a positive light. Echo the enthusiasm that President Obama has! Talk it up...we CAN get up out of this if we all do our part.

There are many people I hear saying, "why should I bail out people who were so stupid to get themselves into a situation where they can't make their mortgage payment?" My answer...

because we are Americans and this is what Americans do...

they help each other out. If you're going to get mad about helping out your neighbor than get mad and the lower class woman whose biggest ambition is to have children just so they can stay on the dole! That's infuriating. Social Services are suppose to be a temporary thing but so many are born into the system and think it's a way of life. That's wrong. Get mad at the people who deliberately fry their brains on drugs just so they can get disability benefits and not have to face reality. Yeah, we all know that often reality sucks but life is what you make it....just as my blog is titled.

We need to come together, support our President and keep our chins up. We also need to all do our part to make this work! We have to! All of you!

A Modern Parablea

A Japanese company ( Toyota ) and an American company (Ford) decided to have a canoe race on the Missouri River. Both teams practiced long and hard to reach their peak performance before the race.

On the big day, the Japanese won by a mile.

The Americans, very discouraged and depressed, decided to investigate the reason for the crushing defeat. A management team made up of senior management was formed to investigate and recommend appropriate action. Their conclusion was the Japanese had 8 people rowing and 1 person steering, while the American team had 8 people steering and 1 person rowing. Feeling a deeper study was in order, American management hired a consulting company and paid them a large amount of money for a second opinion. They advised, of course, that too many people were steering the boat, while not enough people were rowing. Not sure of how to utilize that information, but wanting to prevent another loss to the Japanese, the rowing team's management structure was totally reorganized to 4 steering supervisors, 3 area steering superintendents, and 1 assistant superintendent steering manager. They also implemented a new performance system that would give the 1 person rowing the boat greater incentive to work harder. It was called the 'Rowing Team Quality First Program,' with meetings, dinners, and free pens for the rower. There was discussion of getting new paddles, canoes, and other equipment, extra vacation days for practices and bonuses.

The next year the Japanese won by two miles.

Humiliated, the American management laid off the rower for poor performance, halted development of a new canoe, sold the paddles, and canceled all capital investments for new equipment. The money saved was distributed to the Senior Executives as bonuses and the next year's racing team was out-sourced to India. The End.

Here's something else to think about:

Ford has spent the last thirty years moving all its factories out of the US, claiming they can't make money paying American wages. TOYOTA has spent the last thirty years building more than a dozen plants inside the US.

The last quarter's results:
TOYOTA makes 4 billion in profits while Ford racked up 9 billion in losses.

Ford folks are still scratching their heads.

IF THIS WEREN'T TRUE, IT MIGHT BE FUNNY !

Word 2003

Happy Birthday Mom and Aunt Ree

My mom and her twin sister are celebrating their 74th birthday up in heaven today. They have a lot of people at their party...their mom and dad; their brother, Paul and his daughter Tammy; and Uncle Ernie (Aunt Ree's husband.) My dad's mom and dad are there too. Gramma wouldn't miss a party. They're playing Uno...I am sure of it. Mom loved that game. I'm sure they invited Phil's dad too.

A Duck in the Truck

This is cute!

I will Never Let this happen again!

Do yourself a huge favor...NEVER BORROW MONEY AGAIN! If you have loans right now...and you're working...eat rice and beans; get a second job; whatever it takes to pay the friggin thing off. You do not need a credit card!!!!! Do not buy a new flat screen TV because you don't have to make payments until April! It's a trick. It's stupid. Credit is NOT the American way. Don't be fooled into it. Cash is the only way to go.

OKay...Here we go Again!

It was 2 years and 16 days ago that Phil lost his job the first time. Well, it's happened again. He got his walking papers this afternoon.

It's not as bad this time. I mean it has the same implication but things are a bit better. I have a better job than last time. I have my own insurance through this job when last time I was covered through his employer and subsequently, COBRA. To cover Phil on my policy is a little less than COBRA, not a whole lot but...since I work for a medical group, all doctor visits are covered 100%.

We had some work done on the house when he had gone back to work and now. This means that if we have to sell, our house is more ready. I hope it doesn't come to this though but we will see.

I was going to do the Dave Ramsey program...now I will have no choice but to eat Ramon noodles and stop eating out.

I know we can do this. We can get through this. We have a new president coming into office next week. He says he's going to make things better. He's all about helping the unemployed. It's going to be okay. I know it. Now I have to get Phil to know it.

Facebook bans Breast-Feeding

Okay...I'm not a mother; I'll never be a mother so maybe I have no right to blog about this...but since it is my blog, I will. Facebook apparently has removed photos from blogs that show mothers breast-feeding. Well, they will allow it if the breasts are covered enough.

There are many ladies who are upset with this. (article) I just have a hard time understanding why it's so important to share photos of your child breast-feeding. Why would you show them? I just don't get it. Yes, it's a wonderful nuturing event, no doubt. But one that is needed to be shared? I'm not getting it.

I'm in charge

Since my boss is away for the holiday, and my co-worker is out too, I am in charge! Yep! I'm the boss! The Big Cheese!

I'm in control....of me. Yeah, not a whole lot of pull here but since I AM the boss I decided to really crack the whip. I mean it! I was really pushing myself around today...really being in charge. Why, I even sexually harassed myself!

Now, I know that sounds really bad and I probably should turn myself in but all that power? How could I not?

I kept smacking myself on the butt and saying out loud, "Good job honey, good job!" That's the beauty of sexual harassment...you at least get some positive feedback.

I'm one of THOSE mothers....

I just have to post these pictures of my little girl. She has them on her blog...The Life of Becca...but I wanted to post them here too because she is sooooooo cute....(in my unbiased opinion).

She really didn't want any part of this. I tried to put the santa hat on her...nothing doing so I'm just happy to get her with Jingle Bear. She's my girl! (Becca....not Jingle Bear.)

YouTube - Ode to the Buffalo Bills

YouTube - Ode to the Buffalo Bills

Things I need to......

I really would like to understand politics. I'm really not clear on liberals. Is it liberism. Isn't this where you are generous...where you give....a lot? See I don't know. I hear a lot of liberal bashing on XM radio. The talk shows like to lump people together..."...these damn liberals...." they say. What if liberalism had a color....you sure wouldn't lump them together like that.

I really need to write on my novel. I have it started but that's all. I need to make a schedule and stick to it. It's just hard. After I get done doing the things I need to get done (ie work) I'm too tired tor write.

I really want to learn all the software on my computer..Photoshop, Indesign, Office 2007....I want to learn it all. But time is the issue.

I want to understand modern technology: Ipods, MP3, Twitter...all this technological "stuff." I think my 16 year old niece has me beat on all this.

I want to clean my house and keep it that way.

I want to eat better; find time to make good balanced meals and drink lots of water.

I want to exercise daily. Running from my office to the printer or fax machine isn't enough exercise. I have to keep telling myself this.

I'm getting tired just writing this. (Although it is almost Sunday) Good night.

Presenting Amanda....Live at the BK Lounge

Spot check

Obama, Political Correctness and all that

I don't believe this is a victory for African Americans! Sorry, I just don't. I think it's a victory for all Americans. I really don't think we need to bring race into this. So what if he's half black? Even if he was all black...it doesn't mean anything. I know that many African American people will think differently; like they finally arrived. But it's not the color of his skin that people voted for; it's the ideas he has, the thought process, the likeability, the relatibility...that's what did it.

You hear on the news different African American saying how proud they are "as an 'African American'" This makes it about race. If McCain had won, you would never hear a white person single out their pride because of being white. It would be wrong. We are trained to refrain from making those kinds of statements. Turn about is fair play. It's not a racial issue. That's my two cents.

Tummy tuck there, Lypo there

I used to be one of those ladies who insisted I would not have work done to my body even if I could afford it. I'd say this is how God made me, this is how I am meant to be. This was, of course, when I was younger. Only young people really mean it. Young, perky things with nice skin.

Now I find myself bantering at the dermatologists; asking how they need to submit the claim to the insurance company. "Isn't mole removal medically necessary?"

"Can't the doctor recommended moisturizers be charged based on income?"

Now as I approach my "late" 40's - Gawd how did this happen - I am singing a different tune. I'd just have a little face lift...that's all. Just would like to find my cheekbones, my real chin....nothing much.

My New Penpal

I have a pen pal. I real ink to paper snail mail pen pal. The fun thing is, we share the same name; first and last! It is so cool.

This Eva lives in New Hampshire. She's 90 years old...going on 91 in January. She was a hair dress for 50 years. She walks a mile or two each day. "The doctor says it's the best medication," she writes me. She's still not sure who to vote for next month.

I hope she looks forward to my letters as much as I look forward to hers.

Aw...someone's messin' with me...

The strangest thing happened. Aw...it is so freaky. Today I went to the car wash. I used my credit card in the machine. I put the receipt and the card on the passenger seat. I was kind of in a hurry because the car wash attendant was waving me on.

So I went through the car wash. When I got back to work, I started to look for my credit card. I found the sales slip but not the card. I looked all over the seat, on the floor, felt under the seat...no card. I got out of the car and went to the passenger side and carefully opened the door in case the card was going to fall out. No card. I did another search of the seat, the floor, under the seat, in the back seat...no card.

After work, I got in the car and did another search. No card.

When I got home I pulled into the garage and closed the door and did a complete search, taking everything out. The car is only 2 months old..there's not much in there. I pulled the seat forward and looked all over the floor in front and back. I pulled the seat back and searched some more. No card. It was making me nuts. I gave up and told Philip, my credit card is gone! Completely gone. Fell off the face of the earth. I was pissed.

I went into the house. Phil comes in behind me, "Here you go sweetheart," he says and hands me the card. I mean it! He says he just found it in the back seat floor. There is no way in God's green earth I could have not seen this! It was like magic! I still can't believe it.

Yep...some one's messin' with me. I just know it.

For a brief fleeting second...

I'm at lunch with a little time left before I need to clock back in. For this split second....as I wondered what I can do with myself for the next 10 minutes, I thought I would call my mom! How weird is that? She's been gone for 2.5 years and still...I thought of calling her. Oh, I guess that's normal...I don't know. You can see us here: Me and Mom

It's what they don't say...

It amazes me how people can communicate so much without saying a word. Or how just the way they say something can speak volumes as to how a person feels about you. Yes, it is a matter of interpetation...but often you'd have to be a totally oblivious moron to not know what someone is not saying. It's that whiney voice on the phone that is just two or three octavies louder than normal. It usually comes when you are the one on a fact finding mission; when you need to know how something works and the person you ask has the answers and knows he/she has the answers. Mostly what it is, is hard to explain.

I'll take "Unproductive" for $1000, Alex

Seriously! I have done nothing this weekend. Oh, I have thought about doing stuff. Thought about taking all the furniture out of the extra bedroom and preparing to paint the walls. Thought about cleaning out the garage. Thought about mopping the kitchen floor. Thought about sitting down and learning Photoshop or Indesign or even Word 2007. Thought about getting out that short story I've been working on and that novel I started in 2002. Yeah....what is it they say about paving with good intentions? If only. I have done some serious sleeping. Really. I'm sure I have been asleep more than I've been awake.

I know, I know...blah blah blah. Hey, it's my blog, I can bellyache about whatever I want. How's that for taking control?

Phil has a cold or allergies...he's not sure which but he's coughing up a lung every five minutes. So, can I blame my unproductivity on him? Well, maybe....a little.

I did watch some great football...Bills won!!! Yes. I did empty out the dishwasher and refill it. I did go pick up chinese food. And now, I did blog. So there.

Okay...I'm going to write something

I need to write....how about some ramblings going on inside my head?

Did you know every year I get published? It's true. Yep! I'm in the phonebook! Yes....in black and off-white.

Today I asked my co-worker Sheila, "If you had been borne a boy, would your parents had named you 'Heila?'" To which she responded, "Gawd, I hope not."

Is it acceptable to write emails to your boss that convey the point of the email while trying to make him/her laugh? If he/she doesn't respond to the hilarity of the email, should you stop?

When Christians tell you you need to be born-again, is it disrespectful to tell them you got it right the first time?

If you accidentally touch someone, say in a crowd, and you say to that person, "Oh sorry," to which he/she replies, "that's okay" is that an invitation for you to do it again?

Good Health

It is the most important thing. Each cookie I eat or soda I drink; each time I forfeit the salad for a cheeseburger I have to make myself think that this is wrong....I shouldn't be putting into my body that which I know is bad for me. Why do I do it? I know the risks...the risks of too much cholesterol; too much fat; too much sugar; too many chemicals like those in diet Coke...but I still eat or drink it.

I suppose it's like a smoker - you can't NOT know it's bad - you'd have to be living on the moon to know that it's not good for you, but you still do it. Fortunately I gave that habit up a few years ago.

I am getting a wake up call recently. My dad is really sick. Bladder cancer is very often caused by smoking..., no doubt, is the product of the 60 years of smoking he did. The bladder has to come out. Right now he's sitting in his living room watching TV on his new 37" HDTV. He says he feels pretty good considering. Considering he has a catheter attached to him that fills up with crimson urine. It's crimson because the tumors in his bladder are making him bleed. He was released from the hospital this way. Sounds a little hard to believe that they would release him but they can't do anything more for him there.

Tomorrow my brother takes him to Buffalo General. Hopefully they will see the merit of keeping him and the bladder will be removed. Waiting is not going to make this better. We just have to pray it will happen and that he will make it through the surgery.

Yesterday we got word that a friend of ours died on Thursday. His name is Greg Heim. He lives back home. He's been fighting cancer for a long time. He was barely 50 years old. I so hope he's at peace. It is way too sad for me to even want to fathom. Phil used to bowl with Greg. Greg would call Phil, "Firing Phil" because of how Phil would fire the ball down the lane and usually with great accuracy. Greg had the cutest smile. I didn't see him much after moving to OK but I will always remember him.

Phil's cousin's daughter is sick too. She had a brain tumor and the trials of removing it have taken a tole on her and her family. Her name is Beth Hayes. She lives in Western NY too. You can see her story at: http://friendsofbethhayes.com/. If you'd be so kind, please donate.

Life is so frail. I makes all the stupid petty quarrels and misunderstands...so impossibility stupid. Yeah...I'm waking up now. I have to!