Happy New Year!

This is the year I...

• blog more
• stop drinking phospheric acid
• stop being so lazy
• exercise every day
• eat better

I'm so glad I treat people well already...don't know if I could fit that in to my plans.

Oh crap

How come I can not do this in compose view. Im writing this on my new ipad. There is some limitations to this. Some is good: some not so good. I like that I can enlarge stuff. I wish I could run flash. This is a learning curve for sure.

Thoughts for a Saturday Night...

"Aw jeez!" This is a direct quote from Karl Dinkuhn and Archie Bunker. My brother Jim says it a lot too I have noticed. I'm saying it now because I am so blocked lately with my writing. I mentioned this in my previous post. On FaceBook I posted, "What I'd give for a little inspiration." I've decided to just write whatever is willing to come to my fingers. So here goes:

OU and OSU are playing their annual "Bedlam" game. I am rooting for OSU. I do root for them both during the season but today the Cowboys get my support. (Let me clarify...these Cowboys NEVER those in Dallass!) Personally I think OU is too cocky. I mentioned this to Kevin at work. He claims that their cockiness is what motivates them to win. Yeah, maybe, but this year I want to say, "how's that working out for them?"

Phil is home. He's been in WNY all week to see his family. I encourage this because his mom is 89 and he needs to see her as often as possible. So once again I was home alone. I know many may find that sad...to spend a holiday by myself, but I'm really okay with it. I, of course, didn't accomplish all I had hoped I would while he was away. I haven't done much reading and I certainly haven't done much writing but what can I say. I got plenty of sleep and some much needed spider solitaire played. (That's sarcasm...so you know) I made my own Thanksgiving dinner; took me all of 30 minutes. I watched "The Bucket List." That was a good movie. Jo and Mary came over yesterday and we watched, "The Secret Life of Bees." Jo and I both read the book and planned on seeing the movie together.

Work has got me thinking about something. If a form asks a question, I want it to have an answer. I am in the process of completing CAQH for all of my mid level providers. This is something new because most insurance plans don't credential them...until now. CAQH is a service that insurance plans use to get credentialing information on providers. I complete their online form and insurance plans use the same info to credential the provider. It's a great service. Many of the questions have to have answers. Without answers you can't move forward in the process. Some of the questions, though, apparently do not require answers because not answering them doesn't hinder the completion of the information. Now, I am of the mindset that I want all the questions answered regardless of their importance. This means I'd have to put more time into it and I'm being discouraged to do this by my supervisor. Well, I can go back at a later date and fill in some of the extraneous info but I need to initially get in, get it done and move on. I understand this but at the same time, I want it to be clean, through and tidy from the get go. I know, it's a flaw.

Let's talk Bristol Palin. I am really surprised at how Bristol is so disliked. I just don't get it. People seem to think that she shouldn't have agreed to be on DWTS because she's not a "star." Um...if the producers of the show came to me and said they'd pay me $250,000 just to be on the first week with monetary incentives if I can continue, I'd have to say yes. Why wouldn't she? Don't hold it against her. Some have said she needs to stay in Alaska and take care of her son. Yeah, like he's fending for himself in her absence. I think she's a nice girl who gets a bad rap because of her mother.

Hey, I'm writing! Sort of.

I have a lot to say....

But I'm apparently too lazy to get it down on paper (or blog). I'm taking a class on "Writing for your Grandchildren." Yes, I'm there under false pretense but they don't mind. The problem is that I have nothing to say right now. For some reason I'm not coming up with stories of my childhood to write so I can pass them on to Kate and Jon or Amanda. Mostly I'm not sure they'd really care but maybe they would eventually. I guess they'd like to know about the adventures their dads got into while growing up. Here are some topics:

• The Tornado Story
• Getting Arrested Story (The great train robbery)
• Stories of their Grandparents

They sound like good stories and a great place to start but I'm not motivated at the moment. Well, I haven't been motivated for a while. I paid $80 for this class; I'm going to have to fake it.

I'm home alone for the holiday so I will be back to write more. I need to write more often, I know. Not that any one's reading but if they are...well, let's just say I'm doing it for me.

"Everyone's Different"

I've been hearing this a lot lately because lately I've been judgmental of some people in my life. I have complained about them to my cousin, Julie who lives in Florida. Julie's one of the good ones who doesn't complain about people much. She's big on "living and let live." She sees the good in everyone, a quality (and God love her) I find a little annoying.

I was commenting to her that I have people in my life who generally are not pleasant from time to time. Yeah, I know, everyone has their days but there are some people who have their weeks and it makes me nuts. You know those people who don't like to respond to your humor, who swat at your very existence like you were a gnat that just won't go away? They talk in short choppy sentences. My mother used to do that when she was upset with me, give me those one word answers...
"you okay?"
"fine!"
"you need anything?"
"No."
"Anything wrong?"
"Nope."

Maybe this is why I'm so sensitive to it.

Anyway, Julie's pat response is, "Well every one's different."
I say wearing bowling shoes to work is different; putting strawberry jam on your hamburger is different; playing the bagpipe is different. Being short and unfriendly is not different....it's disrespectful! To call it being "different" is basically rewarding bad behavior...giving justification to something that can't be justified. It's not so much the words that are being said, it's how they are said. It's basically rude and it shouldn't be tolerated. It's like passing gas: you can do it, it's not against any rules or laws but you, generally, don't. If one sqeaks out, you say " excuse me."

What's going through my head recently....(in case you were wondering)

Religion:

I don't go to church. I was raised to believe it was totally optional. Yeah, my mom probably would have had me go...and I did some...but my dad had no use for religion. At least he never shared with me any beliefs. So I've been looking into some different religions. I haven't gone crazy with this project but I did talk to some people at work. In particular a Mormon and a Baptist. I discovered that neither would let me join their church if I were gay. I could come and worship with them whenever I wanted but I couldn't join. This does not directly affect me since I'm not gay but can I really join a church that discriminates like this? I find it hard to believe that God would want that. My God doesn't do that. Now I have to wonder though, where does my God draw the line? I don't think I'd want a convicted pedophile in my congregation. Now, I'm not comparing being Gay to being an evil person: I'm not, but where is the line drawn. The 10 commandments say you shall not murder and that may be a dividing line but what if the murder is justified. What if it was either you kill or be killed? I'm just not sure where the line is drawn.

Being Gay is a Choice:

I know this is an old discussion but I don't think I ever weighed in. Recently on an episode of Glee, Kurt, a gay character on the show, made a great point. Why would he choose to be involved in something that is going to bring such ridicule? That doesn't make sense. I know for sure I didn't choose to be heterosexual. There is no doubt in my mind that I was borne this way. So why would having a desire for the same sex not be something you're borne with? So, I have no problem with there being gay people in this world...none. Now this guy running for Governor in NY has made some statements that were really anti-gay but there is something he said that I have to agree with. If I had children I wouldn't want them to witness a man and a woman getting it on: making out and bumping and grinding in public. I just don't think that is appropriate. Likewise for two men or two woman to be demonstrative as they sometimes are during gay pride parades...well that is wrong. It doesn't matter how healthy their relationship is, it's just not appropriate for public viewing. I have to admit, if I see two men kissing I'm going to turn away faster than I would if it were a man and woman. Does that make me intolerant? Okay....label me.

Quote I must share...

From Laura Bush's book, "From the Heart"....

The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence. For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful some not. Still we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only “I’m sorry for your loss.” But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?

How 'bout a little good news?

Phil had a procedure done last week so a biopsy on his prostate could be done. Good news...there were no cancer cells found! Thank you God! We've been waiting for the results and they finally came in! So hallelujah!

Last night, I fell in my living room. I tripped over a box of, believe it or not, Christmas gifts. I landed on my right knee and caught myself with my right hand, thus hurting my wrist. Well, slightly. I was dazed for a few seconds but before I could feel the pain in my knee, I felt the jubilation in my being because....well, I didn't break anything!!!! Falling, or I should say landing did not hurt nearly as much as I had expected it would. I started laughing in celebration at this revelation. I am fearful of falling since my mom had such an awful time with osteoporosis, something I have clearly inherited. (Thanks a lot mom!) And granted, this was indoors but falling isn't as scary as I had allowed myself to believe.

It's good all the way around!

Corporate Review

Yeah...it's that time when the company I work for gives out their annual evaluations to all their employees. I got mine today and I am so pleased. They like me! I've made up the deficiencies of last year. I've exceed expectations on a couple of line items and I'm doing a great job on the rest. It's time to rejoice! All the hard work has paid off. Of course there's always room for improvement and I'm so on board with that. :)

We have core values:

• Compassion
• Attitude
• Respect
• Excellance
• Service

My company really supports these values. I'm so happy to be working there. Life is good.

How I learn

You can't tell me how to do something. Well, you can tell me but it's not going to sink into my little pea brain as well as it would if you showed me. Actually you can't show me either....you have to let me do it. This is the only way I can learn. And then you have to let me play, see how it works if I follow your instructions. I also need to see how it works if I don't follow your instructions. It's like learning how to drive via a coorespondance course. Yeah, I can get the concept but it won't sink in until I've had a chance to get behind the wheel and drive and also to make mistakes. (Hopefully not resulting in a fender-bender or injury)

Randall Shirley puts it this ways:

It's simple really. Think about one of life's earliest lessons - often
taught by our mothers: The Stove Can Burn You.

• Listening learners heard their mother, believed the information, and never touched a stove.


• Seeing learners watched their brother touch the stove, and never touched it.


• Experience learners touched the stove; but only once!

I'm definitely an "experience learner."

There's an old Chinese Proverb that supports this:

I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand.

And this is how I roll. :)

Disappointment

Here's the thing...in my last post, I talked about filters. I mentioned that a friend hurt me because she found my disagreement with her frustrating and it surprised me that I had to filter what I say to her instead of speaking my mind. I got to thinking about this some...okay..a lot...and I'm doing the very thing I'm complaining about. I'm asking her to put a filter on it; and this is wrong. Just like I feel like I should be able to say what is on my mind; she has every right to do the same.

What I've determined...and this isn't anything new...is that I need to somehow get a thicker skin. In my defense, though, I have...just, apparently, not thick enough. But that's my issue.

In any event, to her I apologize and say "We're good. It's all good!" Peace.

Friendship and acceptance

Aw....here I go again....finding something else I can't accept. Or at least, not accepting very easily.

My best friend just told me something. Not a life changing thing...not for me but something pretty big. She's made a decision about something. The thing is, it's the first I'm hearing about this decision. I don't know what bothers me more; that her life is changing without me or that she didn't trust me enough to let me know that this decision was in the works; that there was the possibility of this change in her life. I'm saddened because once again, I'm not in on the ground level of something big. Yeah, I know; it's not about me but in a way it is.

Earlier this week another friend and I were discussing something. I was spouting out my opinion; freely, as friends do until she told me she was getting frustrated with me. I know that doesn't sound harsh but coming from her it hurt me. I think now that I was surprised more than anything; surprised that I'm supposed to use a filter when speaking to her. I just never thought I needed one. Okay, yeah, I always have some kind of filter on...I am not going to insult someone but I just never thought I had to watch what I said about how I felt bout something. It's hard to explain without being more specific but I don't want to muddy the water any more.

In high school I read A Separate Peace by John Knowles. As I remember in that book, Finney couldn't accept the fact that his friend had pushed him out of a tree they were both climbing. Finney's leg was broken and eventually he died. His death was somehow linked to the fact that he couldn't accept the idea that his friend did this to him. I can't help thinking about my inability to accept things; friends who disappoint, the deaths of my parents, etc will be my demise. Sorry...I know, so morbid but it is what it is.

Thoughts for a Wednesday Lunch Time

Okay...I'm taking a break from work and feasting on my Healthy Choice meal. It's pretty good actually. Not a bounty of food but it will do the trick until around 3 o'clock. At 3:45 I'm out of here, heading for the eye doctor. I hate going to the eye doctor. I hate it more than going to the gynocologist. Seriously, I'd rather have my cervix dialated. At least with the gyno, he's in and out and over with in no time. The OD, not so fast. He's fiddling around, poking bright shiny things into my soul, dropping acid into my eyes. Okay, it's not acid but it burns like it is. In case you don't know, I'm photophobic. This is not a fear of having my picture taken but the fear of light. Seriously. Here's a secret...if you want to mug me, you don't need a gun. Just use a flashlight. I'm totally defenseless.

I am a pain in the ass!

If you think this, you're not breaking any new ground here. You're just not; no trail blazing for you.

I have a tendency to beat a subject to death. I do it all the time until I clearly understand what it is I'm discussing or until I feel satisfied that you know where I'm coming from. If you want me to stop, just nod and wholeheartedly agree with me. If you can't muster up the wholeheartedly part just give back to me what you believe I am trying to say; allow me to throw in my two-cents and then say you understand. If you don't sound convincing, I'm probably not going to stop until you either walk away or you do sound convincing.

I will sometimes ask for information with the anticipation that what I'm asking will come up. It might not. but I want to be prepared. This may strike you as me asking you unnecessary information. You may feel I'm wasting your time because maybe it won't come up. You may call in unnecessary; I call it being pro-active.

You can't blame me for showing due-diligence. Yes, I may have asked you something two days ago and you didn't have what I needed then. And I may ask you again for it two days later because things change all the time. Yes, you may have told me you'd get it to me as soon as you had it, but I can't rely on that. You have to know, people have said that to me on many occasions and they didn't come through and because I wasn't diligent in getting the info, it shined poorly on me. I can't allow that! Sorry.

This is how I roll.

My Summer Vacation

Aw remember when your summer vacation lasted the whole summer? Yeah, me either. I know, I should have chosen the teaching profession rather than being the semi-professional paper pusher in the managed cared arena. We all have choices. But dang....one week or even two weeks is just not enough.

Here's a recap of my time in sunny Western NY. I've got to tell you, as lousy as the Buffalo area is weatherwise in winter; it's just as beautiful in July. Sure there have been some bummer summers but, fortunately for me, this isn't one of them.

I flew into Buffalo at 12:30 am on Friday, 7/16th. That night I had my 31 year high school reunion. It wasn't a formal reunion-reunion....not a sit down dinner with an open bar; none of that. It was just a bunch of classmates who have reconnected on Facebook, getting together on a planned date at a planned time. It was held at The SouthShore in Angola. The SouthShore is the "old people's" bar..next to Mickey Rats...the 20-something bar that doesn't seem so long ago was our bar. That was back when we all had clear tanned skin, slender builds and aguilty. I can remember referring to The SouthShore as the old people's bar. When I went to Mickey Rats, which didn't happen very often as a 20 year old, and I'd see an older man there glaring at me through barley-hops colored glasses, I'd think he didn't belong there. Yeah, it's a free country but there are just some things you got to let go.

It was great to see so many people I knew in high school. Mostly all the skinny girls are still slender, the bigger girls are either still big or bigger with the excepti0n of a couple (Arlene and Jean, you two look so great!) but the men are basically all bigger. Yeah, there are some exceptions there too, I'm sure. But men, generally, gain the weight regardless how thin they started out as. All in all, we all have to make that journey to SouthShore.

On Saturday, July 18th, I took Jon to his guitar lesson in Hamburg. I looked around at all the guitars; plucked a few and could feel the draw to learn it. I think I'd rather learn the banjo though. It seems to be more my thing; like preferring to drive a VW Bug. After that Jon and I went to Walmart. I turned him on to popcorn chicken which we ate while waiting in the check out line. I discovered that I like bringing new things to people...even fat laced deep fried chicken chunks. He rather enjoyed them. We finished up the cup container during the drive and I could see out of the corner of my eye as he matched my snatching...I took one, he took one, I took one, he took one.

Later that day, I stopped off to see Mrs Nelson, the octogenarian mother of my childhood friend, Lori. I picked up Lori too. We sat on Mrs Nelson's patio and chit chatted for a hour. Later that night, my family ordered Chinese food from China King; Oriental delights from the heart of Angola, NY.

On Sunday, July 18th...my true reason for being here...was Kate's graduation party from high school. Despite the accommodations including only a Johnny on the Spot, it was a good time. Yeah, it's Kate's party and I'm sure she and her friends wouldn't even have to step foot into the tin hut but me; not so much. (That SouthShoreness shines through) It was good to see many of my relatives; ones I only see at weddings, funerals and grad parties.

On Monday, Jim drove me out to see Mama Mahoney. He stayed a bit but left me there. I visited with her for a while and then she let me take her car for the evening. My plan was to have lunch the next day with some of the girls from Jaeckle, my employer prior to moving to Oklahoma. But one of the ladies couldn't make it so I moved it to Tuesday evening.

All week, I've been working on a wall hanging. Jim has a ton of t-shirts he wants to get rid of; some have sentimental attachment. I told him I'm make a wall hanging out of them. So I've been working on this all week...a little here; a little there.

On Tuesday, Jon and I went to Ace, The Dollar General and picked up lunch at Pasquales for Jon, me, Kate and Devin, Kate's boyfriend. Then I went to Getzville, to bring back Mama Mahoney's car. I visited with her a while. Jim picked me up and he and I went to The Anchor Bar to meet up with Chris, Janice, Mickey and Phil from Jaeckle. Janice is the only one still working there. The Anchor Bar is where chicken wings were invented. It was good to see them. I had the chicken wings, mild; I should have ordered them BBQed.

July 21: Meet my friend Sally at Tim Hortons. When I was a kid, I used to babysit Sally's kids. Now those kids are all grown up. Hard to believe they are that old and procreating too.

Tim Hortons is relatively new to Angola. It wasn't here when I first moved to Oklahoma. I worked some more on the wall hanging and then Jim, Kate, Jon and I met up with Ed, Marlene and Amanda at the Colony House in Irving. I had the Colossal Beef on Weck. It was exactly that. Later Jim rented "Men Who Stare at Goats.' We didn't finish it. There was 90 minutes I'll never get back.

Thursday, July 22nd: I was back to Tim Hortons for their chicken ceasar salad wrap; this time with Tami, Jim's soon to be ex Mother in Law. It was nice to catch up with her. Even though Jim and Debi have split up, Jim will always be connected to her family...this is a good thing.

I took Jon to Ed's and Kate and I went to the mall. She had rec'd a $50 gift card for JC Penneys. She did well, buying off the sales rack....like her ol' Aunt Eva's been telling her to for years. Personally, I'd like to shop at the thrift store but Kate...not so much. That evening, Jim and I went to Ed's house for pizza and wings. Jon was there still. Kate had other plans. I even jumped with Amanda on her trampoline. That was fun.

Friday, 7/23....Jim, Jon and I met Uncle Bob at Applebees for lunch. Uncle Bob is my dad's only brother. He is 87 years old but he's in great shape; still drives. He's sometimes hard of hearing but then some times he surprises me with having heard something that was said from across the table. I had this God awful headache and asked Jim and Jon to cut their shopping short. All I wanted to do was lay down; which I did when we got home. Jim rented "Dan in Real Life" which he and I watched on his back patio. This was a movie we liked. My headache subsided. :)

And that's it. In a nutshell.

Is there a defense for speeding?

I got stopped for speeding on Thursday night. Yeah, me; the one who is a stickler for obeying the rules; the one who gets mad when someone speeds by me in a huff while I'm doing the speed limit. When I saw the cop lights on behind me and the siren demanding I pull over, my first thought was that something had malfunctioned on my car...a brake light was out or he must want to talk to me about something that only I can help him with. Something...but not speeding. Speeding didn't even cross my mind when I asked him if I was doing something wrong.

He took my license and insurance card and said he'd be back as he went to his car. I imagine, but I have no direct knowledge of this, that he was calling in my license number to see if I was a perpetual offender of the rules. Surely he'd come back to me with a warning...surely. Not a chance. He claims I was doing 50 mph in a 40.

So how do you defend yourself? What comes to mind I think are things surely to get me in more trouble.

"Sorry sir, I just wasn't paying attention."

"I was on the phone with my husband."

No, those don't sound like good defenses, even to me. I might as well tell him I was putting my make up or texting my friend. Awww....

This is going to cost me $161!

Can I go to court and just apologize? Can I explain to them that I'm really a good law abiding citizen and if they lowered the fine it would be the right thing to do?

Or do I just pay it? The officer said it won't effect my insurance since it's not over 10 mph. Aw...grrrrr....crap. My bad.

Oh the benefits of having a blog!

It's my blog and I'll cry if I want to...cry if I want to.

Aw...yes, I sometimes write what's on my mind and yes, sometimes it means I'm just spouting out at the finger tips. But this is the beauty of having a blog. You say what you feel and yes, it's based on my own preception. It's my thoughts. And yes, there are other sides to the story. Things that bug me, for example, the Chinese food bit below, can, no doubt, be totally justified...whoever brought in the food could have been out and about on their lunch hour and decided at the last minute to get it; she could be a person that doesn't like to partake in the responsibility of placing other people's orders...there's a whole host of reasons but since I don't know them....I see what I see and I write about it as I see it. That's the amazing thing about having your own blog! Truly.

Now, unlike Jay Leno who I thought was totally unfair to Monica Lewinsky during whole "I did not have sex with that woman!" debunkle, a blog not only presents my opinions but I allow comments! So if anyone disagrees or thinks I'm being one-sided (which truly I am) they are so welcome to share! Yeah...I encourage it!

Aw...feeling annoyed...sorry for the rant...but...

It's best I write it here than keep it bottled up, right? Or worse, beat my dog...or my husband. lol...

Things that erk me at the moment:

I'm the one who always organizes a Chinese food lunch; asks everyone if they want in and we get it delivered. I have done this several times and I don't mind doing it...managing the orders and the money and lugging it all up the stairs to our office after it is delivered. But when I see people eating Chinese in the break room on a day I didn't do it; it bothers me. Would it kill you to ask me if I want any? Isn't turnabout fair play?

People who say you're wrong when you call something by a different name. When you call something red but it's really burgundy. Give me a freakin' break. It's kind of red. It doesn't change the context of the story. What's up with that?

People who brag about how great they are as parents. Aw man...it's your job! If you want accolades wait until Mother's Day. Make your kids pay you back when they are out on their own making the big bucks. Yeah, keep a running tally about how hard you had to work so you could buy your daughter a $300 prom dress. EeeeGads...that's insane. I'm sure raising kids is hard..I don't know this from first hand experience but I can imagine. Oh, and one more thing...kids like boundaries. I know I have no experience in this but it's been proven that if you work really hard and give your kids everything they want; it's not the best thing. Just so you know.

People who monopolize the conversation with stories of people they don't know ..... the lady at Walmart, etc. Okay, if it's an amusing story share it but there has to be an end to it; a punchline. And don't be reiterating the same thing over and over. Time is valuable especially at work. So let's move on.

Management who believe only their time is valuable. When you (as a peon) are in the middle of a conversation with someone and someone in management walks up to who you are talking to and just starts talking to them totally disregarding your very existence. That's down right rude!

Okay...I think I'm better. :)

How much can you do?

I'd like to think that management would understand that a worker can only do so much; that there are limits. Unless you, as a dedicated employee, are willing to grease a few palms or unzip something, there often are times when it's just out of your hands. Even greasing and unzipping might not change that.

If you're a dedicated employee and you make your best effort to get the job done, that has to be enough. One can't make anyone do something just because you want it done. If your job depends on others to do their part and they have no real incentive to get it done, they just might not. If that makes a poor reflection on you, you need to let management know.

That's all you can do.

Exactly how Fast is ASAP

Friday afternoon, my HR director emailed me asking for me to write up a Job Description. I'm a busy girl these days so I emailed her back asking for the drop dead date she needed this by. She said, "ASAP" but then she added..."early next week." I'm relieved she qualified it for two reasons: I didn't want to stop what I was doing and if she had just said ASAP, I would have stopped what I was doing to get this done ASAP.

It got me thinking how the term, "As soon as possible" can mean different things to different people. My first instinct was to drop everything and start working on this but then she clarified so I didn't have to after all. I wonder if my boss asked me for this, would I have even asked for a due date or just got it done? If someone in one of the offices asked me for something ASAP, would I still feel the urgency.

I know a lot of times I do do things right away because I know it's simple enough to do it and be done with it and because some times I just feel it's something that if I don't do it - pronto, I might forget.

Maybe this is why a boss, or someone in authority, would rather not become "friends" with an employee. This may explain the resistance to "accept me" as a "friend." Okay.....we'll go with that. :)

What's Shaking?

Just sitting here at the old HP with the Compaq keyboard contemplating life. Nothing too earth shattering going on. Work is busy as all get out which is good. I like busy. I like the mornings to fly by right smack into a late lunch which leads to what amounts to leaving early. It's not really early but it feels like it is. It's like rubbing mayonnaise on your aching muscles. There's no medical proof that mayonnaise will make your muscles feel better but if you believe it is making you feel better; well, that's half the battle.

I took out of the library an audio book called, "Happy for No Reason." I've been listening to it on the way to work...well, trying to. So often I call my brother, Jim, while I'm driving to work (don't worry Oprah, I got a headset) so that cuts into my audio listening time. Not that I'm complaining; I'd rather talk to Jim. Also, I'm having a love affair with my XM radio. There's a gizzion stations on XM. I've never loved talk radio so much. One of the draw backs to most of the talk stations though is that for every five minutes of programming there's five minutes of commercials. Except for one station that I love, POTUS. There are few commercials there and the content is so good. I suppose it's good to me because I love President Obama and it's definitely Obama friendly. Although Pete Dominic will disagree with the President if he feels it is needed. Anyway, I was listening to "Happy for No Reason" while out at lunch today. Aw...all the happy talk made me sad so I gave up on it and listened to The Highway...Country music with few commercials too boot.

I want to be one of these happy persons. I think, mostly I am, just for some reason, right now I'm in a funk. No clue....not really. It is said that money can't buy you happiness and I believe that to a certain point. There is such a thing as too much money. I believe that...but I still think money can buy you peace of mind. How can you not be happy when you know you're not going to be thrown out of your home or you have enough food and all the other "needs" are and will be met. That to me is peace of mind. Not that you can't be living by the seat of your pants and still be happy....many do it but it depends on your mindset.

I find it interesting how the children of celebrates say they want to "make it" without the help of their famous parents; they want to be a celebrity in their own right. They move out on their own, get a job waiting tables while they do auditions....just like anyone else trying to make it in the biz. The one thing they don't say is that they know, if they fail or if it takes them longer than they imagined, they're not going to starve or be homeless. They have the luxury of a back up plan. If push came to shove, there's a loophole.

The other day, a member of management emailed that she thought I was doing a good job on a particular project. I was totally amazed by this. I wanted to print out the email and affix it to the break room refrigerator. I know, what am I 8? But, this truly made me happy. And yes, I know....you're not supposed to depend on someone elses validation of you....I so get that but it was good. And I couldn't help but mutter under my breath..."well, it's about time."

That's fine..

I emailed my boss and told her I'd be late on Thursday morning since I had to take Phil to the airport for his trip to see his mom. I knew her response would be, "that's fine" because it's always "that's fine." Fine...kind of an interesting word. I'd like to ask her, "is that 'fine' as in sunny with clear skies, as in a 'fine day?"

Or 'fine' as in "this is a 'fine' mess you've gotten yourself in?"

Or 'fine' as in outstanding like a 'fine wine?"

Or 'fine' as in thin like 'fine hair' or small like "fine sand?"

I know I'd be upset if she answered, "fine" to the question on whether she thought I was competent enough or smart enough to handle a project. That would not be fine with me! For sure! Is fine, only satisfactory?

Can I go with "Fine, take your husband to the airport, take your time, it's all fine!" I think I will. :)

My lunch hour is over...well, that's just fine!

The things that stick with you...part II

Part I (click here)
I had an ah-ha moment last time when I was writing about this. I know that my apprehension with doing a forward roll stemmed from the fact I discovered years later after complaining of back pain and a full body x-ray that at some point in my childhood, I broke my back. I have a compressed fracture on L4. I have no recollection of hurting myself except for a time when I was at my dad’s company picnic…I must have been 7 or 8 and I slid down the slide on the park playground and hit my lower back on the ground. This must have been when I caused the fracture. I know, one would think I wouldn’t be able to walk; I have no idea how it could be that I could. There was never a time when I was so incapacitate I couldn’t walk.

Yes, I know, K and I were both kids and kids do stupid things for stupid reasons. I can even remember a situation where I intimidated someone weaker than me only in an effort to look stronger. K just did it all the time. I am fascinated with why I kept coming back for more.

Once L, another girl in our grade who I was friends with had a slumber party in her basement. This time she invited me and K. I don’t recall anyone else there. We had this quasi stage set up in L’s basement where we were to act out songs we played on the record player. I had no idea what K was looking for when she came up with this idea. None. Looking back, it was a sort of an MTV kind of thing, although MTV was far from even being a brain child of someone in the future. I picked, “I’ll Honestly Love You,” by Olivia Newton John.

I was sitting at the café table we had set up. Across from me was an empty chair. On the table was a flower in a vase. How do you make a song like this come alive without someone to sing too? This was my plight. K and L were watching me intently. The music started, I had to do something so I lip synced Olivia’s words to an imaginary lover seating across from me. I poured by heart out; declaring my undying love to his man of my dreams. I was 14, what did I know?.

“Maybe I hang around you, a little more than I should. We both know I got somewhere else to go.” I removed my focus from the chair to the flowers,

“But I got something to tell you that I never thought I would but I believe you really ought to know…” I looked back to the empty chair and poured by heart out via lip syncing better than Millie Vannellie. The song ended. I honestly thought I did a good job considering what I had to work with.

Once again, I was on the receiving line of K’s approval and once again there was venom coming out of her mouth, “What was that? What? You honestly love the flower?” Yeah, once again I was crushed.

You’d think I’d not want to be this girl’s friend. You’d think when I saw her, I’d be running in the other direction. K never called me…never that I could remember. I was constantly walking passed her house and would just happen to see her and if she looked my way, I took it as an invitation to approach.

Finally I must have gotten the message because my encounters with her were limited in high school. I was friends with L more and she apparently knew K’s ways and as long as K wasn’t friends with L, I was good. In high school, K was fairly popular. She didn’t hang out with the cheerleaders, not many of them but she was friends with some on the squad. Her older brother was kind of a rebel and I think he didn’t even finish high school at our school. K was kind of a free spirit.

For our first day of high school she wore these knicker type pants that weren’t yet in style but she apparently wanted to be on the cutting edge. I don’t think she was super confident or at least she didn’t come across to me as over-confident. Through out high school we were cordial but that was it. I didn’t press the issue.

We graduated in 1979. I went on to college, K chose to work for a year and then go to another college. Our paths rarely crossed.

In October of 1982, I was walking uptown to a place to pick up a hamburger. It was dark and I remember almost tripping over something on the sidewalk in front of K’s house. I didn’t give it much thought though until my walk back when I stepped on what turned out to be walnuts and twisted my ankle and down I went, hamburger flying and my wrist smashing into the sidewalk. I was stunned at first. I could hear the older brother in the house yelling at the dog who was barking up a storm at my commotion.

“Shut up!” J said. I yelled out for someone to help me but no one heard me. I got up, held my right hand up with my left hand but I was unable to move it on its own power. It hurt like hell. I somehow scooped up the brown bag containing my hamburger and walked home.

It turns out my wrist was so severely broken that surgery was required.

My father had a friend, Mitch, who was an attorney. Mitch said we had a case against the landowners and the walnut tree owners. I wasn’t keen on this…suing my neighbor. Mitch claimed it was only the insurance companies we were suing, not the people. I agreed to go through with this…I wasn’t working but I was trying to find a job and having a broken wrist wasn’t going to make that happen any time sooner. Plus there was the pain and suffering. I could be all dramatic and bring up the fear that had gripped me when I laid there helpless in front of K’s house, yelling for help and no one came to my aid. I could hear the brother yelling at the dog but apparently he couldn’t hear my over the dog’s barking. And there were hospital bills, the ER, the OR, the overnight stay. So I went ahead with the law suit.

I had another ah-ha moment recently when I realized it wasn’t all those reasons why I wanted to go through with the suite; it was the fact that I still wanted to be connected to K and her family and if this was the only way to do it; I would.

Of course, I didn’t expect to be in a deposition, face to face with K’s dad and Mr. S, the tree owner. But there I was.

Months later, I talked to another neighbor who told me that K’s family hated me. Me? The exact opposite of what I was hoping. No, I know you can’t sue someone and expect them to like you but “hate” seemed a bit harsh. It wasn’t too long after that that I told Mitch to settle. The idea of anyone hating me was more than I could take.

(To be continued)

New Bike

I was thinking that I need to get a bike. Well, half thinking I would. After dropping Becca off at the groomers, I came upon a sign that said, "Bike Sale" so I made the right turn into the development to see what it was all about. Sure enough, there was a bike sale. Apparently just a private citizen...not a store...was selling used bikes. I stopped still not convinced I'd actually do it and talked to the man. It was his "jobby"...acquiring bikes, fixing them up and selling them. I tried out a 10 speed. It felt weird. I hadn't been on a bike in at least 12 years. I didn't care for the 10 speed. He had a no speed...an classic red ladies bike with fat tires and brakes on the pedals. It was nice. I hymned and hawed about it. Called my husband who had no idea I was even thinking about getting a bike so he left it up to me. I decided I had to do it. It was $75...not a huge investment but still. So the man delivered it an hour later. She's a beaut!

Some things you can't shake...

Yesterday I noticed on Facebook that one of my friends had become friends with another classmate. I’ve been out of school for over 30 years but when I saw that M was friends with K, I still felt this …..Oh, I don’t know, I think we can safely call it anger and maybe a little jealousy. I don’t know who asked who to be friends but I know I won’t be asking K. If she wants to be friends maybe I will but I’m not instigating this. Now, how high school is this? Holy Crap; have I not grown up?

The thing is, K and I have some unfinished history.

K moved into my neighbor just before we went into junior high (7th grade). There were other kids in the neighborhood who were basically vying for friendships with K and her brothers and sisters. I was kind of the shy geeky kid with wild hair and crooked teeth that my folks didn’t believe needed attention. I was up against some tough competition in the “Win K’s Family Over” contest. Needless to say, I had a chance but I just didn’t measure up.

Aside of being geeky and dorky I was uncoordinated. I recall a time when K and I were hanging out in her back yard. I imagine K was doing cartwheels or maybe another girl, L was over too and they were doing backbends or whatever it is kids do on summer days. I couldn’t do any of those things. When K discovered that I couldn’t even do a forward roll she had a field day. What kid can’t do a forward roll? This was so absurd to her. I wanted to do one; I really did but I was fearful of hurting by back…I mean really fearful of it. K was determined to get me to do one. She kept pressuring me. “Even babies know how to do a forward roll,” she teased. I stooped down, put my hands on the ground. I could envision myself ducking my head down into my chest and just doing it but I couldn’t and I felt helpless but to not just confess my fear. At the time I knew of no fear that laid dormant in K. She was from Buffalo…from the actual city; not Norman Rockwellville. Her parents moved to Angola to escape all the violence of the big city. And then K would become all caring and lull me into a false sense of friendship. She broke the process down for me. And so I did what she said. I tucked my chin in and launched myself slightly with my feet and rolled; touching back of head, shoulders, back and back to a sitting position. “Yes! I did it!” I yelled out so proud of myself. And I looked a K, standing on one foot, with her hands on her hips. “It’s just a stupid forward roll,” she said as she walked away.

I don’t recall why, but by the time school started K didn’t like me at all. She made it clear we were enemies. She told me this after she shared a secret: that when you go into a new school, there’s initiation and since we were going into Junior High we could be assaulted by students from the high school. In Buffalo, there had been reports of kids spraying Nail in classmate’s hair. It just might happen in our school too. The first day of school I was a nervous wreck. The idea of going into Junior High, to a new big school didn’t faze me. The thought of K and her sister D who was going into 8th grade did. In gym class I remember visibly shaking.

God, I remember wanting this girl to like me. I rarely witnessed myself get jealous over boys. I never set my sights on one because I always felt they were all out of my league. K constantly reminded me of this. She was always on some mission to “fix” me. Even her sister D, joined in. One day I found a homemade halter top in my mailbox. Apparently I wasn’t showing off enough skin for their standards. K was always demeaning my choice of clothing. It was never good enough. And for some reason I wanted to be this girl’s friend. It became a challenge. I remember walking up to the Variety Store in town and seeing a greeting card there that really tickled me. It was an Easter card. There was a cartoon bunny on the front and it read, “I hate to break it to you, but there is no Easter bunny.” In the inside it said, “Santa Claus ate him for Thanksgiving.” I thought it was so clever. I didn’t have much money as a kid but I bought it and then I wondered who I should give it to. Of course, I decided on K. I filled the card out at the store and, with pride, brought it to K’s house. Why I expected anything more, I have no idea. It was like the forward roll all over again…just a stupid card. I constantly set myself up. They say that’s a sign of insanity…doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Aw man, if I could turn back time.

Well, having said all this, I know that if K requested me to be her friend, I would cave; I would confirm her. My mom always told me I’m too forgiving and people walk on forgiving people but I know I can’t help that. That’s just the way I am. I am sure the reason is simply that just about everyone has messed with me in one way or the other and if I didn’t forgive, I simply wouldn’t have any friends. It’s so absurd that the ones who hurt me or rejected me at one time are the ones I want so much to be friends with. There are dozens of people in my life who haven’t done me wrong and yet, they for some reason don’t matter as much. How crazy is that? Maybe I am insane.

Coach :: Handbags

Coach :: Handbags
At these prices can I get the "Assistant Coach?"

And now for some levity

How can the word "anxious" mean both worried and eager? I don't get it. If you say, "I'm anxious to meet you," will they think you are worried about it? I'm anxious to find out what my next move is on a project I'm involved in but I'm not the slightest bit worried. I'm looking forward to it actually. I don't get it.

If someone asks, "How was your day?" and you respond, "It was super. How was yours?" Why don't we use an apostrophe after the 's'? Shouldn't it be "how was your's?" I mean, the person owns the day since it is his or her day too. So what's up with that?

Aw..the things that keep me up at night. :)

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.