I got this from my friend who lives in South Dakota. Her whole family (and about 80% of the rest of the population) are farmers. If you've never had the honor of working on a farm, a REAL farm, trust me. This is pretty acturate! Them farmers is tough folk.
Plus, I've been traveling all week and my brain's too jumbled from all the turbulence to think of something witty to post.
~Recycled for your viewing pleasure~
Cheers!
A LETTER FROM A FARM KID,
Dear Ma and Pa,
I am well. Hope you are.
Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.
I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 AM but I am getting so I like to sleep late.
Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things.No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay.Practically nothing.
Men got to shave but it is not so bad cause there's warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food. But tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee.Their food plus yours holds you till noon when you get fed again.
It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "route marches," which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. (A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home.) Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
This will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting but I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it.You don't even load your own cartridges.They come in boxes.
Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I'm only 5'6" and 130 pounds and he's 6'8" and near 300 pounds dry.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter,
Carol
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
It's Friday- laugh, damn you, laugh!
It's FRIDAY!!! To celebrate I give you some funnies to start your weekend off right!
Top 11 excuses for NOT showing up to work....
“If it is all the same to you I won’t be coming in to work. The voices told me to clean all my guns today.”
“When I got up this morning I took two Ex-Lax in addition to my Prozac. I can’t get off the toilet, but I feel good about it.”
“I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour and the other half back an hour Saturday and spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time continuum loop, reliving Sunday (right up until the explosion). I was able to exit the loop only by reversing the polarity of the power source exactly e*log(pi) for the clocks in the house while simultaneously rapping my dog on the snout with a rolled up New York Times. Accordingly, I will now be in late, or early.”
“I have to go in for a blood transfusion… My stigmata’s acting up again.”
“I can’t come in to work today because I’ll be stalking my previous boss, who fired me for not showing up for work. OK?"
“I have a rare case of 48-hour projectile leprosy but I know we have that deadline to meet, so if you really want me to come in…”
“I am stuck in the blood pressure machine down at the pharmacy.”
“Yes, I seem to have contracted some attention-deficit disorder and, hey, how about them Skins, huh? So, I won’t be able to, yes, could I help you? No, no, I’ll be sticking with Sprint, but thank you for calling.”
“I just found out that I was switched at birth. Legally, I shouldn’t come to work knowing my employee records may now contain false information."
“The psychiatrist said it was an excellent session. He even gave me this jaw restraint so I won’t bite things when I am startled.”
“Constipation has made me a walking time bomb and I have to keep my back to an open window.
Also, these were too funny not to share....
What's in a name anyway?
Top 11 excuses for NOT showing up to work....
“If it is all the same to you I won’t be coming in to work. The voices told me to clean all my guns today.”
“When I got up this morning I took two Ex-Lax in addition to my Prozac. I can’t get off the toilet, but I feel good about it.”
“I set half the clocks in my house ahead an hour and the other half back an hour Saturday and spent 18 hours in some kind of space-time continuum loop, reliving Sunday (right up until the explosion). I was able to exit the loop only by reversing the polarity of the power source exactly e*log(pi) for the clocks in the house while simultaneously rapping my dog on the snout with a rolled up New York Times. Accordingly, I will now be in late, or early.”
“I have to go in for a blood transfusion… My stigmata’s acting up again.”
“I can’t come in to work today because I’ll be stalking my previous boss, who fired me for not showing up for work. OK?"
“I have a rare case of 48-hour projectile leprosy but I know we have that deadline to meet, so if you really want me to come in…”
“I am stuck in the blood pressure machine down at the pharmacy.”
“Yes, I seem to have contracted some attention-deficit disorder and, hey, how about them Skins, huh? So, I won’t be able to, yes, could I help you? No, no, I’ll be sticking with Sprint, but thank you for calling.”
“I just found out that I was switched at birth. Legally, I shouldn’t come to work knowing my employee records may now contain false information."
“The psychiatrist said it was an excellent session. He even gave me this jaw restraint so I won’t bite things when I am startled.”
“Constipation has made me a walking time bomb and I have to keep my back to an open window.
Also, these were too funny not to share....
What's in a name anyway?
All aboard the Huyndai Express! I'm on the road (AGAIN) this week and will be back to the regularly scheduled programming on Sunday! Here's hoping you find laughter and cheer this weekend!
Musing....
You never know *who* you might run into in the blogging world. It's amazing to me that with the sheer number of bloggers out there that-without looking- I would run into one I know. But I did.....
How does that happen! Weird kharma? Or fate? Perhaps it was destiny? Maybe it was just plain old science. But I am still surprised to have come across this person as I traveled through the very crowded blogging universe. I mean really, people are pretty easy to find when you are deliberately looking for them(I learned this a few months ago when I was "found" on MySpace!) but what about when you're not looking?
Weird.
It also makes me much more cautious about what gets said on a blog. Nothing can be a secret if it's posted on the web!
How does that happen! Weird kharma? Or fate? Perhaps it was destiny? Maybe it was just plain old science. But I am still surprised to have come across this person as I traveled through the very crowded blogging universe. I mean really, people are pretty easy to find when you are deliberately looking for them(I learned this a few months ago when I was "found" on MySpace!) but what about when you're not looking?
Weird.
It also makes me much more cautious about what gets said on a blog. Nothing can be a secret if it's posted on the web!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
News you can't use
I've come up with my own version of the "Darwin Awards" from today's top news articles...
ALLEN PARK, Mich. -- The body of a 41-year-old man was found in a wooded area next to a guillotine he built and used to kill himself, police said.
The man, from the Detroit suburb of Melvindale, was discovered Monday by workers from a shopping center near his home.
Allen Park Deputy Police Chief Dale Covert said the roughly six-foot tall guillotine was bolted to a tree and included a swing arm. Covert said police also found several store receipts detailing the materials used to assemble the device.
"I can't even tell you how long it must have taken him to construct," he said. "This man obviously was very determined to end his life."
Comments: OMG! How distraught must you be to BUILD A F-ing GUILLOTINE! And creative-- 2 snaps for thinking outside the box!!
FORT PIERCE, Fla. -- Police documents said a Fort Pierce teenager told detectives he allegedly killed his parents because he didn't want to disappoint them anymore.
According to documents released Tuesday, Jacob Brighton, 16, said he shot and killed his parents last month because he always felt like a disappointment to them. On the tape he says he did not have a job when his parents wanted him to, smoked marijuana and did not share the same "qualities or interests" as his father.
Comments: What disappointment they must have felt at the moment they realized their son was killing them. And how about just getting a job and not smoking marijuana. Didn't think of that did ya, genius. Hard to think straight through the haze?
NANUET, New York (AP) -- Stomping on garlic with your shoes on is apparently not the correct way to prepare food.
Dan Barreto, who sometimes ate at Great China Buffet, took this picture of garlic being stomped.
The Rockland County health department hit the Great China Buffet restaurant with two violations after someone took pictures of an employee stomping on a bowl of garlic with his boots in an alley.
The photographer alerted health inspectors.
"I go back there, and the guy's stepping on garlic," said Dan Barreto, who used to eat at the restaurant. "There he was just jumping up and down on it, smashing it up, having a good time."
The health department does not consider a person's shoe or boot a proper instrument to use in food preparation, senior public health sanitarian John Stoughton said Tuesday.
"It was a novel way to prepare food," he acknowledged.
Comments: "Huhhh Uh Uhh. Huhhh Uh Uhhh. Hey Beavis. Huhhh Uh Uhhh. He said instrument. Uhhh Uh Uhh.
Nyeah, Nhaahaa Nhaahaa. Instrument."
Ummm. Yeah. Real novel idea buddy. Thanks for making sure I never order garlic bread again.
HONOLULU -- A man accused of killing a pet pig may blame the pig as part of his defense.
Joseph Calarudda is charged with stabbing 300-pound "Porky" to death as its owners pleaded for him to stop.
Calarudda is going on trial this week for felony theft of livestock. One of his defenses may be that the pig was aggressive and dangerous.
Prosecutors said they hope to use video of Porky in a television commercial to show how peaceful he was around people. Porky also appeared in the ABC television series "Lost."
The trial could begin on Wednesday.
Comments: "Hey Ned- Shoooot! He's comin' right for us!"
The Pig's name was Porky? Really?
Well, pigs CAN be dangerous. Especially when they let fame and fortune go to their head. *Snicker* -Porky!-HA!
ALLEN PARK, Mich. -- The body of a 41-year-old man was found in a wooded area next to a guillotine he built and used to kill himself, police said.
The man, from the Detroit suburb of Melvindale, was discovered Monday by workers from a shopping center near his home.
Allen Park Deputy Police Chief Dale Covert said the roughly six-foot tall guillotine was bolted to a tree and included a swing arm. Covert said police also found several store receipts detailing the materials used to assemble the device.
"I can't even tell you how long it must have taken him to construct," he said. "This man obviously was very determined to end his life."
Comments: OMG! How distraught must you be to BUILD A F-ing GUILLOTINE! And creative-- 2 snaps for thinking outside the box!!
FORT PIERCE, Fla. -- Police documents said a Fort Pierce teenager told detectives he allegedly killed his parents because he didn't want to disappoint them anymore.
According to documents released Tuesday, Jacob Brighton, 16, said he shot and killed his parents last month because he always felt like a disappointment to them. On the tape he says he did not have a job when his parents wanted him to, smoked marijuana and did not share the same "qualities or interests" as his father.
Comments: What disappointment they must have felt at the moment they realized their son was killing them. And how about just getting a job and not smoking marijuana. Didn't think of that did ya, genius. Hard to think straight through the haze?
NANUET, New York (AP) -- Stomping on garlic with your shoes on is apparently not the correct way to prepare food.
Dan Barreto, who sometimes ate at Great China Buffet, took this picture of garlic being stomped.
The Rockland County health department hit the Great China Buffet restaurant with two violations after someone took pictures of an employee stomping on a bowl of garlic with his boots in an alley.
The photographer alerted health inspectors.
"I go back there, and the guy's stepping on garlic," said Dan Barreto, who used to eat at the restaurant. "There he was just jumping up and down on it, smashing it up, having a good time."
The health department does not consider a person's shoe or boot a proper instrument to use in food preparation, senior public health sanitarian John Stoughton said Tuesday.
"It was a novel way to prepare food," he acknowledged.
Comments: "Huhhh Uh Uhh. Huhhh Uh Uhhh. Hey Beavis. Huhhh Uh Uhhh. He said instrument. Uhhh Uh Uhh.
Nyeah, Nhaahaa Nhaahaa. Instrument."
Ummm. Yeah. Real novel idea buddy. Thanks for making sure I never order garlic bread again.
HONOLULU -- A man accused of killing a pet pig may blame the pig as part of his defense.
Joseph Calarudda is charged with stabbing 300-pound "Porky" to death as its owners pleaded for him to stop.
Calarudda is going on trial this week for felony theft of livestock. One of his defenses may be that the pig was aggressive and dangerous.
Prosecutors said they hope to use video of Porky in a television commercial to show how peaceful he was around people. Porky also appeared in the ABC television series "Lost."
The trial could begin on Wednesday.
Comments: "Hey Ned- Shoooot! He's comin' right for us!"
The Pig's name was Porky? Really?
Well, pigs CAN be dangerous. Especially when they let fame and fortune go to their head. *Snicker* -Porky!-HA!
Monday, September 10, 2007
Blending Families: Surviving the Step-Parent Role
by Jami Cameron
Taking on the task of helping raise a child who is not biologically yours can be a great experience, but can also be overwhelming. You are coming into a situation where a child sees you as an outsider, and may not be too happy with it. Until you came along, that child probably had fantasies of his/her parents reuniting, but you changed everything....
The bad news isn’t over yet – you have one ex-spouse who, more times than not, has a bitter taste in his/her mouth over the marriage and the role you will play in their child’s life.
Add all of these issues up, multiply that by the age of the child, and more than likely, you have a lot of work ahead of you. Don’t worry, you can do this. You owe it to yourself and to your spouse.
You Are Not My Mother/Father.
Anytime you start a family, there is a period of adjustment. The first months of your marriage and new step-parenting role will be the hardest. Everyone involved is learning more about each other – house habits, likes and dislikes, discipline ideas, etc. – which can be a lot to digest in such a short time. When faced with this situation, many in a family may lash out or grow impatient with one another, especially step-children.
While you are not biologically the child’s parent, you do play a very important parenting role in his life. Over time, hopefully the other parent will realize this, but don’t count your eggs before they hatch.
Here are a few suggestions for what to do when faced with hard situations:
The other parent is saying bad things about you (or their ex). This sort of thing is mean, and can break a person’s heart – especially if they are trying so hard to be a good step-parent. Don’t feed into this. The only reason why the other parent is doing this is to get back at the spouse, and ruin your relationship with their child. They are very insecure, and possibly didn’t want the divorce to begin with. Bottom line – the child will get to know you, and as they become older, will understand what the other parent is doing. It kills you now, but it will get better. Ignore the ugly words from the ex, and be sure to correct misinformation the child tells you that their parent said. Don’t say anything terrible about the other parent, take the high road. A good way to give the correction is “I understand that your mom/dad may think that about me, but that is not who I am. You know that. I love you and would never hurt you. They have a right to their opinion.” Always end the conversation with “your mother/father loves you a lot.” It may kill you to stick up for the ex-spouse, but it shows the child that you don’t have ill will towards the person they love.
And a few things to avoid all together:
Don’t ever fight with the ex. When things get heated, it may be your disposition to confront the other person. If that person happens to be the ex of your spouse, don’t do it. This can only lead to bigger problems in the future. Grit your teeth and bear it. Keep in mind that you aren’t required to have contact with them, so don’t.
Don’t ever say “I hate you”. No matter how hard it is to deal with your step-child, no matter how bad they are – never, never, never tell them you hate them. Not only will you sound like a 5 year old, but you can’t take that back once it’s been said.
Don’t ask them to call you mom. It isn’t your place to request a title to be called. If they decide to call you mom, that is their choice to make, not yours.
Don’t put your spouse in the middle. Any sort of riff in a family comes with its stress, but don’t make your spouse fight for you. Your relationship with his son or daughter is just that – yours. You can discuss the difficulties or issues and get his insight, but don’t make him fight your battles. This will only be an added stress, and possibly cause distance in your relationship.
There aren’t any black and white “this is the way to blending a family” rules. Everyone’s situation is unique. The only thing they have in common is they are divorced and are starting a new family including their child from the previous marriage. Nothing in life comes easy, and this is one situation that can take years to change.
Perseverance, hope, faith and love are the only qualities that can make blending a family a great experience. You have to want things to change, and work at changing them. Nothing comes easy, but when you see your step-child’s eyes light up at something you said, or you get a kiss on the cheek – it is the best feeling in the world – and it’s worth all the pain you have gone through to finally arrive at that happy place.
by Jami Cameron
Taking on the task of helping raise a child who is not biologically yours can be a great experience, but can also be overwhelming. You are coming into a situation where a child sees you as an outsider, and may not be too happy with it. Until you came along, that child probably had fantasies of his/her parents reuniting, but you changed everything....
The bad news isn’t over yet – you have one ex-spouse who, more times than not, has a bitter taste in his/her mouth over the marriage and the role you will play in their child’s life.
Add all of these issues up, multiply that by the age of the child, and more than likely, you have a lot of work ahead of you. Don’t worry, you can do this. You owe it to yourself and to your spouse.
You Are Not My Mother/Father.
Anytime you start a family, there is a period of adjustment. The first months of your marriage and new step-parenting role will be the hardest. Everyone involved is learning more about each other – house habits, likes and dislikes, discipline ideas, etc. – which can be a lot to digest in such a short time. When faced with this situation, many in a family may lash out or grow impatient with one another, especially step-children.
While you are not biologically the child’s parent, you do play a very important parenting role in his life. Over time, hopefully the other parent will realize this, but don’t count your eggs before they hatch.
Here are a few suggestions for what to do when faced with hard situations:
The other parent is saying bad things about you (or their ex). This sort of thing is mean, and can break a person’s heart – especially if they are trying so hard to be a good step-parent. Don’t feed into this. The only reason why the other parent is doing this is to get back at the spouse, and ruin your relationship with their child. They are very insecure, and possibly didn’t want the divorce to begin with. Bottom line – the child will get to know you, and as they become older, will understand what the other parent is doing. It kills you now, but it will get better. Ignore the ugly words from the ex, and be sure to correct misinformation the child tells you that their parent said. Don’t say anything terrible about the other parent, take the high road. A good way to give the correction is “I understand that your mom/dad may think that about me, but that is not who I am. You know that. I love you and would never hurt you. They have a right to their opinion.” Always end the conversation with “your mother/father loves you a lot.” It may kill you to stick up for the ex-spouse, but it shows the child that you don’t have ill will towards the person they love.
And a few things to avoid all together:
Don’t ever fight with the ex. When things get heated, it may be your disposition to confront the other person. If that person happens to be the ex of your spouse, don’t do it. This can only lead to bigger problems in the future. Grit your teeth and bear it. Keep in mind that you aren’t required to have contact with them, so don’t.
Don’t ever say “I hate you”. No matter how hard it is to deal with your step-child, no matter how bad they are – never, never, never tell them you hate them. Not only will you sound like a 5 year old, but you can’t take that back once it’s been said.
Don’t ask them to call you mom. It isn’t your place to request a title to be called. If they decide to call you mom, that is their choice to make, not yours.
Don’t put your spouse in the middle. Any sort of riff in a family comes with its stress, but don’t make your spouse fight for you. Your relationship with his son or daughter is just that – yours. You can discuss the difficulties or issues and get his insight, but don’t make him fight your battles. This will only be an added stress, and possibly cause distance in your relationship.
There aren’t any black and white “this is the way to blending a family” rules. Everyone’s situation is unique. The only thing they have in common is they are divorced and are starting a new family including their child from the previous marriage. Nothing in life comes easy, and this is one situation that can take years to change.
Perseverance, hope, faith and love are the only qualities that can make blending a family a great experience. You have to want things to change, and work at changing them. Nothing comes easy, but when you see your step-child’s eyes light up at something you said, or you get a kiss on the cheek – it is the best feeling in the world – and it’s worth all the pain you have gone through to finally arrive at that happy place.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Endless Love
I am truly inspired! I witnessed this weekend something that I just wasn't sold on anymore. The concept? That love can endure. It can thrive even after hurt, anger, time and space. If tended properly it can even flourish.
This weekend I had the honor of being in the wedding of my two best friends in Denver. I have known both the bride and groom for over 14 years and have weathered many hardships with them both. I met them first as a couple in an explosive relationship. It involved many nights where the bride would end up on my doorstep because they'd had a fight and she was moving out. We even once caught the groom with his "hand in the cookie jar" so to speak. They stayed together through several years of this but finally broke up.
While the bride moved to Denver, the groom stayed behind and we became very close friends. It felt strange at first, listening to the bride talk about her new love interest, the groom talking about his and as time went on (4 years actually) I almost got used to them being apart.
But, as life would have it, a day came when the bride, while visiting me, would run into the groom and they would hit it off again immediately.
Fast forward 4 more years to last night. The wedding. The groom blubbered worse than I did and the bride was glowing. These two are truly happy and in love. They've been together- off and on- for 16 years and they still can't get enough of each other. It made my heart smile to see it.
I've been a little jaded lately about whether love can really endure. Since my divorce, I've wondered if people are destined to cycle through partners their whole life and if love is just fleeting, at best. I sure hope not. And after this weekend, I'm open to the possibility of endless love. And I'm also hopeful of it's promise.
This weekend I had the honor of being in the wedding of my two best friends in Denver. I have known both the bride and groom for over 14 years and have weathered many hardships with them both. I met them first as a couple in an explosive relationship. It involved many nights where the bride would end up on my doorstep because they'd had a fight and she was moving out. We even once caught the groom with his "hand in the cookie jar" so to speak. They stayed together through several years of this but finally broke up.
While the bride moved to Denver, the groom stayed behind and we became very close friends. It felt strange at first, listening to the bride talk about her new love interest, the groom talking about his and as time went on (4 years actually) I almost got used to them being apart.
But, as life would have it, a day came when the bride, while visiting me, would run into the groom and they would hit it off again immediately.
Fast forward 4 more years to last night. The wedding. The groom blubbered worse than I did and the bride was glowing. These two are truly happy and in love. They've been together- off and on- for 16 years and they still can't get enough of each other. It made my heart smile to see it.
I've been a little jaded lately about whether love can really endure. Since my divorce, I've wondered if people are destined to cycle through partners their whole life and if love is just fleeting, at best. I sure hope not. And after this weekend, I'm open to the possibility of endless love. And I'm also hopeful of it's promise.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Chester Cheetah's WMD
Harry Callahan: I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?
Iowan accused of Cheeto attack
Police report: Evidence includes Cheeto dust
By Associated Press
Published: September 4, 2007
A man has been charged with a cheesy snack attack on his dad, police said.The weapon? A bag of Cheetos.Patrick Hamman, 22, of Des Moines, was arrested on a charge of domestic assault after he threw a bag of Cheetos at his father, Michael Hamman, hitting him in the face Sunday night.The bag hit his father’s glasses, causing a cut to the bridge of his nose, police said.The police report said “Michael’s T-shirt was also covered in Cheeto dust.”Police said Patrick, who lives with his father, admitted that he was on methamphetamine at the time of the argument.
Iowan accused of Cheeto attack
Police report: Evidence includes Cheeto dust
By Associated Press
Published: September 4, 2007
A man has been charged with a cheesy snack attack on his dad, police said.The weapon? A bag of Cheetos.Patrick Hamman, 22, of Des Moines, was arrested on a charge of domestic assault after he threw a bag of Cheetos at his father, Michael Hamman, hitting him in the face Sunday night.The bag hit his father’s glasses, causing a cut to the bridge of his nose, police said.The police report said “Michael’s T-shirt was also covered in Cheeto dust.”Police said Patrick, who lives with his father, admitted that he was on methamphetamine at the time of the argument.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was HOT like me?
The only thing I have to say about this is:
DUHHHHH!
Men want hot women, study confirmsStory Highlights
Dating study: Men base their decisions mostly on physical attractiveness
Men are much less choosy than women
Women are aware of the importance of their own attractiveness to men
WASHINGTON (AP) -- Science is confirming what most women know: When given the choice for a mate, men go for good looks.
In the dating game, men know what they want.
And guys won't be surprised to learn that women are much choosier about partners than they are.
"Just because people say they're looking for a particular set of characteristics in a mate, someone like themselves, doesn't mean that is what they'll end up choosing," Peter M. Todd, of the cognitive science program at Indiana University, Bloomington, said in a telephone interview.
Researchers led by Todd report in Tuesday's edition of Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences that their study found humans were similar to most other mammals, "following Darwin's principle of choosy females and competitive males, even if humans say something different."
Their study involved 26 men and 20 women in Munich, Germany.
Participants ranged in age from 26 to their early 40s and took part in "speed dating," short meetings of three to seven minutes in which people chat, then move on to meet another dater. Afterward, participants check off the people they'd like to meet again, and dates can be arranged between pairs who select one another.
Speed dating let researchers look at a lot of mate choices in a short time, Todd said.
In the study, participants were asked before the session to fill out a questionnaire about what they were looking for in a mate, listing such categories as wealth and status, family commitment, physical appearance, healthiness and attractiveness.
After the session, the researchers compared what the participants said they were looking for with the people they actually chose to ask for another date.
Men's choices did not reflect their stated preferences, the researchers concluded. Instead, men appeared to base their decisions mostly on the women's physical attractiveness.
The men also appeared to be much less choosy. Men tended to select nearly every woman above a certain minimum attractiveness threshold, Todd said.
Women's actual choices, like men's, did not reflect their stated preferences, but they made more discriminating choices, the researchers found.
The scientists said women were aware of the importance of their own attractiveness to men, and adjusted their expectations to select the more desirable guys.
"Women made offers to men who had overall qualities that were on a par with the women's self-rated attractiveness. They didn't greatly overshoot their attractiveness," Todd said, "because part of the goal for women is to choose men who would stay with them"
But, he added, "they didn't go lower. They knew what they could get and aimed for that level."
So, it turns out, the women's attractiveness influenced the choices of the men and the women
Thursday, August 30, 2007
I carry your heart with me(I carry it in my heart)
"I want you to be my mom!" said the Girl.
"Sweetie, you already have a mom." I said.
"I mean a mommy over here, at daddy's house." she responded
"Ohhh. I see. Well your dad and I aren't married yet. When we get married, then I can be your mom."
"Oh. Well I'll call you my future mom then- is that ok?" she asked me.
Is that ok. I can't think of anything MORE ok than that.
I Carry Your Heart with Me~ E. E. Cummings
I carry your heart with me(I carry it in my heart)
I am never without it(anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by
only me is your doing, my darling)
I fear no fate
(for you are my fate, my sweet)
I want no world
(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
I don't suck, you suck. Nuh uh, YOU suck...
From the backseat:
Girl: "I sort of got in trouble on Friday and had to go to my room."
Me: "Oh really. Why was that?"
Girl: "Well stepdad isn't playing at the fair anymore because he got fired. And I said, they must not have like the way you played. I didn't know that it would hurt his feelings and I had to apologize 3 times and write him a letter telling him how sorry I am. I really didn't know it would hurt his feelings."
Me: "Well, I'm sorry you got in trouble, but that probably was a little hurtful."
Girl: "Yeah, I know. Stepdad also said that Dad's band sucks and that their drummer is just average."
Wow! Talk about textbook displacement.
Girl: "I sort of got in trouble on Friday and had to go to my room."
Me: "Oh really. Why was that?"
Girl: "Well stepdad isn't playing at the fair anymore because he got fired. And I said, they must not have like the way you played. I didn't know that it would hurt his feelings and I had to apologize 3 times and write him a letter telling him how sorry I am. I really didn't know it would hurt his feelings."
Me: "Well, I'm sorry you got in trouble, but that probably was a little hurtful."
Girl: "Yeah, I know. Stepdad also said that Dad's band sucks and that their drummer is just average."
Wow! Talk about textbook displacement.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Here's the skinny
The time has finally come. I can no longer avoid it. I've spent the past 6 years battling my weight and I have finally won- sort of.
It's been a challenge too. I have always been thin. When I graduated from high school I weighed in at a whopping 110 lbs, and I'm 5'6". Even after 14 years I still only average about 120lbs. What's wrong with this you say? Well, for one thing, I'm not built like a runway model. I've been an athlete all my life- gymnastics, ballet and track- and was, at one point in my life, a body builder. I'm built lean and very strong. In fact, I could out "bench" most of the men I knew at that time- 190 lbs to be exact. Not too shabby for someone who weighs 110lbs! Putting weight on and keeping it on has always been a struggle.
The news lately has got me thinking. What if I were a celebrity. Would the paparazzi hound me for being too thin? Granted there have been times in my life where I looked in a mirror and thought "holy crap you look sick!" And I even had a parent- principle meeting in high school about whether or not I was anorexic-- My mom laughed her way out of his office, offering to have him pay our grocery bills for a while. People have pretty much always assumed that I was trying to be thin. That there simply must be something wrong with me.Well, at least until recently. The combination of being in a great relationship and being in executive management instead of in a branch (I work for a bank), have made my life much, much less stressful. So, after trying for long time to put weight on (and after months of eating hotdogs and drinking Budweiser), I've finally gotten to my sweet spot, 125lbs!!
The only problem with this is that I realized last night after a heathly walk in the park that I am in the worst shape I have ever been in. I highly doubt that I could lift the bar let alone bench press 190lbs anymore.
My solution- drop $700 on an expensive coat hanger, errr I mean Bow Flex! This seems to be a good solution since I hate cardio and love lifting weights.
Plus, my clothes are dying for change of venue.... We'll see, we'll just see.....
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Once upon a time...I woulda knocked your block off!
There once was a time when, lacking maturity and experience, I would have reacted differently to the dealings I've had recently with a few angry individuals. I wouldn't have been able to contain myself, keep my mouth shut, and keep my anger in check. Fifteen years ago, after enduring the comments I've heard spouted off by these folks lately, it would have come to blows.
I spent many years of my life battling assholes and injustices with my fists. I know- not too lady like, and certainly not a noble way to handle things. I couldn't STAND a person who thought they were so much better than someone else that they would treat them poorly. This was usually the school nerd, or the poor dirty kid that got made fun of all the time. If I heard it, you might as well have said those words to me. I was getting involved and you wouldn't like it.
I alway stood up for those who I thought could not stand on their own.
I was good at it too. There is a perverse pleasure in doing something that you're good at. I learned to fight young and often growing up. Being a military brat meant living in base housing and at that time, the 70's, it wasn't the nicest neighborhood around. When I was 4, a 16 year old neighbor girl "befriended" me. She spent the next year terrorizing and torturing me. My dad then taught me self defense moves that I have actually come to cherish. Unfortunately, they came in very handy in my high school fights.
By the time I reached the age of 16, I had been in a handful of "real" fights. No pulling hair or scratching here. Nope. I used my fists. And be the time I reached the legal driving age, I had used them several times on girls and guys alike. I never hurt anyone too bad. I was always cognizant of hurting someone to teach them a lesson, not permanently damaging them. But I'm sure I left mental scars instead, which is almost worse.
It wasn't until after getting the tar beat out of me by 3 girls at once that I started to realize what a total BAFOON I had become. Not because I stood up for myself and others but because I allowed ignorant, shallow people to make me angry. And the root of all my fighting was anger. I was anger at being picked on as child. I was angry at seeing others being picked on. I was just angry.
I also learned that I could speak my mind without it resulting in something physical. In fact, to have to degrade youself to a gross physical act to get your point across is not a sign of intelligence but ignorance. I can still stand up for injustices and for those who can not stand on their own. Only now if I decide to act, it's to perform an act of kindness. I've also learned that I can have the tools and physical ability to defend myself. This is ok. It's not ok to use these to dominate a situation.
Today, as I sat thinking about a few people in my life who LOVE to trash on me and my boyfriend, I thought- "Ooooh if only I could meet them on the street. I'd....". Fifteen years ago, that sentence would have ended quite differently than it would today. Today I, if provoked, would likely give them a peice of my mind (hey I'm not perfect!) If not provoked, I'd smile and make eye contact. I might even say hello. Then, I would let go of any anger I had and walk away.
Still I rise....
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I've been to: Reno Chicago Fargo Minnesota Buffalo Toronto Winslow Sarasota Wichita Tulsa Ottawa Oklahoma Tampa Panama Mattawa LaPaloma Bangor Baltimore Salvador Amarillo... "gasp" breathe....Tocapillo Barranquilla And Padilla....
Okay maybe not quite. But it sure feels like it lately. Now don't get me wrong- I enjoy wracking up the frequent flyer miles and I always said I wanted a job where I could travel. But you know the old adage, "be carful what you ask for. You just might get it."
It didn't really starting hitting me how much time I've been away from home until last week. While visiting beautiful Baker City, Oregon I awoke one evening, and like usual, had to look at the time (I do this repeatedly throughout the night, almost every night.) This evening things weren't quite right. I couldn't for the life of me figure out WHY in the world Tim would move my alarm clock to the opposite side of the bed. What the hell??? Ahhh, Duh! That alarm clock would belong to the Best Western.
I also started really feelin' all the miles when in 5 days I had traveled to 5 different states. I started out working in Oregon until Friday, back to Idaho, then Tim and I were off at 8:00 on Saturday morning to Nevada, only to then drive to California for Tim's gig- which didn't get over until 1:00am on Monday morning, to then get up at 2:30 am (yep, that's an hour and a half of sleep folks- not pretty) to drive back to Nevada to then fly to Spokane to give a presentation for work at 1:30pm that same day.
Please understand- I don't get to travel to exotic lands and far off places of adventure. No. I get to spend 3 days and 800 miles going to places like Enterprise, Pilot Rock, Pendleton, Burns and John Day. Haven't heard of these high profile tourist destinations? Exactly my point. But it's not all bad. The Best Western of Baker City gets balanced out with the Davenport in Spokane-which MORE than makes up for it!
Now I'm home, and I am ready for a few days of peace and quite. What will I do with all that time?
Hmmmm. I'm not doing anything this weekend. Maybe I'll plan a trip somewhere.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
The Pot Calling The Kettle Black ( to say something about someone else which is actually true of you yourself ... )
The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, Third
Edition. 2002.
pot calling the
kettle black
Criticizing others for the very fault one
possesses.
Story of the Kettle
The phrase "Pot calling the kettle black" is an idiom, used to accuse another speaker of hypocrisy, in that the speaker disparages the subject in a way that could equally be applied to him or her. In former times cast iron pots and kettles were quickly blackened from the soot of the fire. If personified into animate objects, the pot would then be hypocritical to insult the kettle's colour. The phrase "It takes one to know one" has a similar meaning. Chinese philosopher Mencius relates a similar story about a soldier laughing at another soldier retreating 100 steps, while retreating 50 steps himself.[1] There's a similar idiom in Turkish; "Tencere dibin kara
Edition. 2002.
pot calling the
kettle black
Criticizing others for the very fault one
possesses.
Story of the Kettle By Christine
When the pot called the kettle black, the kettle was somewhat offended. Until he thought deep and hard about the issue. "How could the pot call me black," he asked. "The pot is even blacker than me!"
The kettle marched right up to the pot and shouted "Hey you skinny-armed, pot belly piece of tin! How come you called me black!"
The pot, who hates confrontation, was quite put off by this. What was that good-for-nothing kettle doing yelling at me? That kettle is sooo judgemental How could he be the way he is. I am so much better than him. I would never be like that.
So, he yelled back "Hey kettle, you are so judgemental. I would never be that way. You should be like me."
The kettle looked sympathetically at the pot then, suddenly deeply sadden that the pot couldn't see it's own shoot and dirt. He came to realize that the pot was so busy scrutinizing and judging everyone else he couldn't see that he was just as black as the kettle. As black as anyone....
Pot calling the kettle black
from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The phrase "Pot calling the kettle black" is an idiom, used to accuse another speaker of hypocrisy, in that the speaker disparages the subject in a way that could equally be applied to him or her. In former times cast iron pots and kettles were quickly blackened from the soot of the fire. If personified into animate objects, the pot would then be hypocritical to insult the kettle's colour. The phrase "It takes one to know one" has a similar meaning. Chinese philosopher Mencius relates a similar story about a soldier laughing at another soldier retreating 100 steps, while retreating 50 steps himself.[1] There's a similar idiom in Turkish; "Tencere dibin kara
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Our Time
"I wish it need not happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandolph, "And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time given us."
JRR Tolkien
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Doesn't seem too stupid to me!
The "Stupid" 31 Flavors. Okay, inside joke from my previous post! :)
Tim's band, "The 31 Flavors"-- They're great; The camera woman (me) sucked!
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Say Cheese
Say cheese!
No matter what kind of day I've had I can always count on my buddy
to make me laugh. Weiner Dogs are s0000000 funny!
No matter what kind of day I've had I can always count on my buddy
to make me laugh. Weiner Dogs are s0000000 funny!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Happy Mother's Day
Today, like many, I celebrate Mother's Day with my mom. I hope you are all able to enjoy this day with your moms as well.For those who have lost their mothers, I give you this Dennis Franz quote from Allison Gilbert's book, Always Too Soon: Voices of Support for Those Who Have Lost Both Parents:
"Though I miss my parents dearly, I'm so glad that I miss them. If I didn't, it would mean that they didn't have as much of an impact on my life as they do. I would like to have the same sort of impact on my own children."
Happy Mother's Day!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Memory Lane, Small Town USA
I recently received an email from a childhood friend that took me down memory lane so quickly and so aburtly it unleashed a torrent of memories that I can't seem to now turn off. What this email did for me though was to make me realize that blessings are almost always in disguise. It took this letter from an old friend and nearly 20 years to realize how blessed I was to have "grown up" in a small town. I lived in a town of 100 people and "going to town" meant to drive 15 minutes to a larger town of 2000 people. At the time- I lived there from 3rd through 9th grade- it seemed torturous. Now I realize, I was so lucky to grow up in such a place.
I share with you the excepts of this email:
From: Layne
To: Christine
"I looked at your pictures on flicker and there are two kids, a boy and a girl. Are those Seans kids? He's married right. I heard that once upon a time he did get hitched. I think the only person not married is Darin McDonald. He lives in his dads old house in chamberlain. Just him and two cats. Ones name is Jackie and the other one doesn't have a name. He just calls it the white one because Jackie is all black. I bet you miss cruising up and down south main on the weekends in chamberlain. Down main street to the stop sign. Go left down the truck route and left up the hill. Stop, take a right at McDonalds and go down south main street at 25 miles an hour. Pull into the road that goes up to taco johns and make a u-turn and go back down south main until you get to the stop sign by the bank clock. Repeat as many times as you can before mid-night. They removed the bank clock a few years ago. Everyone was in a big uproar over that one. Someone had their kids set out on the corner with a dry-erase board one weekend and they kept writing the time on it every five min. or so. There was a kid on the corner for 4 or 5 days with that board. Really. When ever I go back there I can't recognise anybody. I don't know where everyone I used to know went. "
From: Christine
To: Layne
"Yep, those are Sean's progeny. You'll *LOVE* this: He married the sister of the local prosecuting attorney! Awesome!! Her dad owned (he died last year) the only hotel in town and they are related to everyone in town.After moving to Washington, Sean continued the same antics--as we ALL did--and was drinking alot and smoking pot and crashing his cars and motorcycles (that one actually cost him part of his arm!) When he met his wife he totally changed. Now he spends his time in the forest, either for work or to play, and with his family. He doesn't have email or I'd give you his address. I'll tell him about Darren for sure, he'll get a kick out that. I loved you trip down memory lane- thank you! My most vivid memories of you, besides being the friend that always flirted with and "sweet-talked" my MOM, seems to revolve around music. I can remember you coming over to the house and watching MTV with me. I loved that basement- cool and quiet in the summer, satellite TV, comfy recliners. First, it was MC Hammer. " Oh, you've got to see this guy! He wears weird pants and does a funny dance" you said. I think you even got up and tried to show me the "dance". Ohhh, Ohhhh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Can't Touch This....Then it was Faith No More and the crazy fire-fish-piano exploding-crazy guy>video that was "soooo coool!"- And it was. It's funny. While I lived their, I hated it. I couldn't wait to get out. Small Town, USA, nothing to do, only old people as the majority population- this sure lent itself to what, in the moment, seemed like "suffering", but now seems to be some of my fondest memories. To THIS day, when I smell Lilacs in the the spring, I am instantly transported to the Brooks' backyard where there were a line of huge Lilac bushes. I can see, as if looking down upon it all like a bird in flight, their house- big, white, 2-story colonial style house with a huge yard. I can see Joe and Sarah playing basketball outside on the court. Terry is in the garden and Kathleen is mowing the lawn. As fly further, I come upon the Hubbard household. Through the kitchen window I can Denny, staring at Kathleen and commenting about her shorts and long legs. Carla is in the kitchen baking, something, and Michael is in his basement bedroom doing "god knows what". Mandy is out in the yard kicking a soccer ball. Their freaky cat that was struck by lightning and live through a fire, is lying in the sun on the cement slab that was to be their garage, half finished for 10 years. As I cut across, I see the Mayer's house. The whole brood is on their way back in-doors because one of them got in trouble. Otherwise, they're all in that immense yard, riding on the motorcycle or swinging on the tire under that beautiful enormous tree. I think I see Billy crouched in the weeds across the street, aiming his .22 or B B gun at the Mayors house. I swoop around and pass the Keiner house. Here I see Bill Sr. out front mowing his lawn. He's wearing shorts, socks, and no shirt- His round belly directing the actions of the mower more than his hands. Mrs. Keiner ( I can't remember her first name) is yelling at Billy about something and he's ignoring her. I see your house out of the corner of my eye as i circle back around and come to the heart of the city, Main Street. There's the Bar, the Hotel, the Ballroom, ahhh I loved the Ballroom, the Fisher's hole, errr I mean house,>and the Coop. Of course there were all those empty, condemned buildings that we all love to play in so much, all along the way. Somewhere out there are you and Sean. Probably driving my dad's electric golf cart, beer in the back, through some mud hole like it was a 4X4. That>is what small towns do to you though, you get very creative and you do>things like "Mud Bogging with Golf Carts"! As much angst as it caused me at the time, including the travesty of living in a town with a name like Pukwana, it was actually a beautiful thing. That small town was my world and it was a beautiful world. I wouldn't trade it for anything!"
Today, I remember to count my blessings. Even those that I don't recognize yet.
I share with you the excepts of this email:
From: Layne
To: Christine
"I looked at your pictures on flicker and there are two kids, a boy and a girl. Are those Seans kids? He's married right. I heard that once upon a time he did get hitched. I think the only person not married is Darin McDonald. He lives in his dads old house in chamberlain. Just him and two cats. Ones name is Jackie and the other one doesn't have a name. He just calls it the white one because Jackie is all black. I bet you miss cruising up and down south main on the weekends in chamberlain. Down main street to the stop sign. Go left down the truck route and left up the hill. Stop, take a right at McDonalds and go down south main street at 25 miles an hour. Pull into the road that goes up to taco johns and make a u-turn and go back down south main until you get to the stop sign by the bank clock. Repeat as many times as you can before mid-night. They removed the bank clock a few years ago. Everyone was in a big uproar over that one. Someone had their kids set out on the corner with a dry-erase board one weekend and they kept writing the time on it every five min. or so. There was a kid on the corner for 4 or 5 days with that board. Really. When ever I go back there I can't recognise anybody. I don't know where everyone I used to know went. "
From: Christine
To: Layne
"Yep, those are Sean's progeny. You'll *LOVE* this: He married the sister of the local prosecuting attorney! Awesome!! Her dad owned (he died last year) the only hotel in town and they are related to everyone in town.After moving to Washington, Sean continued the same antics--as we ALL did--and was drinking alot and smoking pot and crashing his cars and motorcycles (that one actually cost him part of his arm!) When he met his wife he totally changed. Now he spends his time in the forest, either for work or to play, and with his family. He doesn't have email or I'd give you his address. I'll tell him about Darren for sure, he'll get a kick out that. I loved you trip down memory lane- thank you! My most vivid memories of you, besides being the friend that always flirted with and "sweet-talked" my MOM, seems to revolve around music. I can remember you coming over to the house and watching MTV with me. I loved that basement- cool and quiet in the summer, satellite TV, comfy recliners. First, it was MC Hammer. " Oh, you've got to see this guy! He wears weird pants and does a funny dance" you said. I think you even got up and tried to show me the "dance". Ohhh, Ohhhh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Can't Touch This....Then it was Faith No More and the crazy fire-fish-piano exploding-crazy guy>video that was "soooo coool!"- And it was. It's funny. While I lived their, I hated it. I couldn't wait to get out. Small Town, USA, nothing to do, only old people as the majority population- this sure lent itself to what, in the moment, seemed like "suffering", but now seems to be some of my fondest memories. To THIS day, when I smell Lilacs in the the spring, I am instantly transported to the Brooks' backyard where there were a line of huge Lilac bushes. I can see, as if looking down upon it all like a bird in flight, their house- big, white, 2-story colonial style house with a huge yard. I can see Joe and Sarah playing basketball outside on the court. Terry is in the garden and Kathleen is mowing the lawn. As fly further, I come upon the Hubbard household. Through the kitchen window I can Denny, staring at Kathleen and commenting about her shorts and long legs. Carla is in the kitchen baking, something, and Michael is in his basement bedroom doing "god knows what". Mandy is out in the yard kicking a soccer ball. Their freaky cat that was struck by lightning and live through a fire, is lying in the sun on the cement slab that was to be their garage, half finished for 10 years. As I cut across, I see the Mayer's house. The whole brood is on their way back in-doors because one of them got in trouble. Otherwise, they're all in that immense yard, riding on the motorcycle or swinging on the tire under that beautiful enormous tree. I think I see Billy crouched in the weeds across the street, aiming his .22 or B B gun at the Mayors house. I swoop around and pass the Keiner house. Here I see Bill Sr. out front mowing his lawn. He's wearing shorts, socks, and no shirt- His round belly directing the actions of the mower more than his hands. Mrs. Keiner ( I can't remember her first name) is yelling at Billy about something and he's ignoring her. I see your house out of the corner of my eye as i circle back around and come to the heart of the city, Main Street. There's the Bar, the Hotel, the Ballroom, ahhh I loved the Ballroom, the Fisher's hole, errr I mean house,>and the Coop. Of course there were all those empty, condemned buildings that we all love to play in so much, all along the way. Somewhere out there are you and Sean. Probably driving my dad's electric golf cart, beer in the back, through some mud hole like it was a 4X4. That>is what small towns do to you though, you get very creative and you do>things like "Mud Bogging with Golf Carts"! As much angst as it caused me at the time, including the travesty of living in a town with a name like Pukwana, it was actually a beautiful thing. That small town was my world and it was a beautiful world. I wouldn't trade it for anything!"
Today, I remember to count my blessings. Even those that I don't recognize yet.
Monday, April 2, 2007
Oh we're movin' on up...
...to the eastside. To a deluxe apartment, in the sky -eye-eye.
Yep, folks, after 6 months of talking about it, I finally moved to beautiful Boise!! It's hard to believe the time has actually arrived. It seemed like it was going to take forever and a day when the time would come, then all of a sudden-boom, it's here.
One thing I've learned through this is that it pays to have lots of large, muscular friends when you move. Which was the case on one end of the move, but not on the other.
It's been over a month since I've posted on this blog, and for good reason. I've been busy, damn it! But now that the move is behind me, I'm Baaackkkk! And I've missed you all terribly.
Let me tell you a little about my move. The first thing, I had 3 dogs. Yes, I said 3, and a cat. This wasn't going to work. No apartment in the world was going to accept me AND my entire brood. Also, having dogs that bark a lot makes selling your home nearly impossible. So, sadly I had to find a home for 2 of my dogs. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing since the two I gave up were Miniature Pinschers. If you've ever owned one or known anyone who has, you'll understand that last comment. They are ridiculously hard to house train. I got so tired of stepping in dog pee I could've screamed. They are also very high strung and bark a lot. All things that potential landlords just love-- no doubt. And my wonderful ex, being the responsible, caring individual that he is, just up and left me with all 3 dogs. So, after much deliberation, and sadness, I put an ad in the paper for a good home for them. Luckily, I found one that wanted both dogs- what a blessing (well for me anyways, I don't think the new owners really knew what they were getting into, or *stepping* into, so to speak.)
That horrible deed being done, I decided to try to sell my home- by owner. What a stupid mistake. I figured I had to at least try before succumbing to spending $8000 for a realtor. I gave myself 1 month to give it a try. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I don't believe that most Realtors do anything to earn that kind of money, but the truth is, after 1 month I had shown my house to only 3 potential buyer. I hired a realtor and the house sold in 1 week. Trust me, I learned my lesson on this one!
Once the house sold, I had to finally "face the music" and tell my boss I was quitting. I promised her 60 days notice. This wasn't exactly what I wanted to do but the world of banking is a very small and somewhat vindictive one. Not wanting to burn any bridges, I submitted to this request and agreed to help find and train my replacement. Ughh!
It's funny how the past 6 months seemed to drag on relentlessly. Especially since Tim and I had been trying to make our relationship work while living 300 miles apart. Weekend trips back and forth every 2- 3 weeks was really hard. Thank goodness we live in the technology age and we've been able to communicate virtually every day since we met, 1 year ago, through text messaging, email, and phones.
The sale of my house seemed to accelerated the pace of things for me 10 fold. I suddenly went from having FOREVER to wait to not having any time at all. Since I had given 60 days notice, and most houses close in 30-45 days, I knew I'd have to figure out where I'd live for a while. I also had to find an apartment in Boise as well. Which turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. I found a great 2 bedroom place that suits me and my pets. 
But, what about that 3-4 week gap where I still had to work at my old job with no home? Well this is where things get interesting.
I was invited to assist with a merger of a bank our company bought in Utah. I was asked to stay in Utah for 2 and 1/2 weeks to assist them. Ahh darn. A free hotel room for nearly 3 weeks. "Ahh Shoot, I guess if I have to, I'll make the sacrifice!" That covered a few weeks of homelessness for me. The rest, the last 2 weeks, I'll be staying with friends. Whew! That was tough.
Then came the actually move itself. I thought, "I can do this on my own- how tough can it be?" I got online and rented my Uhaul, called a couple of friends and "called in my chips" (well really I threatened them all that if they didn't help me I'd break down and actually call my Ex to help me. It's amazing how well that worked!) And I rented my new apartment so that I could move all my things in before I left for Utah.
The moving day came and I picked up my Uhaul. It looked so much smaller in person than on the web. I figured it had to be the right size, that the Internet would never lie. The website said this truck would fit a 3-4 room house. I have no concept of space, and how much of it my stuff takes up. I knew that moving from a 1600 sq ft home to an 1100 sq st home would be an adjustment. I had 2 whole sets of "living room" furniture since I had a family room and a living room in my house. I gave my very expensive formal living room furniture to Goodwill, so I didn't have a ton of stuff-- so I thought. After loading up half the truck it became glaringly apparent that everything was NOT going to fit. Too late to get another truck, so at the last minute, we unloaded the only Sofa I had planned to bring with me and carted it off to the dump. Even with that, I still had some things that just flat wouldn't fit on the truck. It was so full, I was afraid to open it when I got to Boise. Yikes!
Just to make things slightly more challenging (since I do love a challenge!) the apartment I rented is on the 3rd floor. I moved box after box up those damned steps. I thought I was going to die! Luckily Tim had a few big friends who could help for just a few hours with the real heavy stuff, so I didn't have to try to lug my TV and larger furniture up, but still it was back breaking labor. Something this banker does not do often or well.
It felt like I would never get it all done, but then suddenly, it was. It felt so strange to finally be moved in to my new home in Boise. This being not only a new home for me, but a new city and state for that matter. And after ALL these months of thinking and planning and pining, it was done! What now? I suddenly felt useless--but in an *oh so wonderful* way!
Now I sit in Utah, writing this post, so proud of myself for being so independent and able to do things on my own. Knowing that a world of greatness awaits me in only a few more weeks. What I thought would be an absolutely impossible task was done. And *I* did it! It's so gratifying.
And now I literally live in an apartment in the sky! Ohh I'm movin' on up.......Now if I could only get the "Mr. Jefferson" strut down.....
Friday, March 2, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Oh What a Week
What a week. You may have noticed that I haven't been around this small corner of the blog-o-sphere much lately.
I have officially caught the plague and have been home from work now for 2 days.For those of you who don't know me this might seem normal, but it's not. I don't miss work. In fact, I almost ALWAYs at least make it in to work. I figure I can try to work and if, once I'm there, I am in fact too sick to work, then I'll go home. This week I actually "called" in sick. That means, I'm really ill. Not just playing hooky. Boo Hoo. I've learned though that being single means having to take care of yourself when you're sick. No one to care if you need cough syrup or soup, no back rubs, no pity party. (I should re-phrase that. I have people who CARE, just no one within 5 hours of where I am now wasting away in my bed.)
On top of being sick, I also put my house up for sale this week. I've spent the past 6 months getting the house remodeled and repairs done so that I wouldn't have to die of embarassment every time the realtor parades some stranger through my home. Though there are still a hundred little loose ends that need to be taken care of--such as raking up the leaves that have been in my back yard since last fall, and cleaning out the garage-- I am running out of time, patience and energy. So, needless to say I finally hired a realtor.
What a racket! I DID try to sell my house as "For Sale By Owner" for a month, only to get just a few bites of interest; mostly people who buy houses as investment property. It was just too darn time consuming to do it on my own. On top of working endless hours every week and trying to work on "fixing up" the house on the weekends, I was also trying to show the property on my lunch breaks or after work. YIKES! Now, I can at least say I tried.
Having to pay a realtor 6-7% of the sale price is one tough pill to swallow though. Anyone out there who's a realtor, please understand that I know you work hard to sell the properties that you're contracted to sell, but even on my small, cheap, $140,000 house, it will end up costing me $11,000 with realtor and closing costs.
This sucks, but it's also compounded by the fact that prior to my divorce, we used the equity in the house to pay for some of the remodeling projects we had done, and to pay off credit card debt. Some mine, most my ex's. This means that I may end up having to bring money to closing in order to sell my humble abode. They say, hindsight in 20/20, and had I know my husband would decide to walk after 10 years together, I certainly would not have used this precious asset- my home equity-to pay off debt; debt that my ex accumulated from HIS first marriage-yada yada yada. Ughh- enough about the ex.
Lastly, work this week has been a terror. I have a very small staff where I'm at right now, and last week 1/2 (which equates to 2 people) of them quit. No, not a mutiny. But they both quit without notice. I have spent the past week reading, sorting, and grading resumes. I have 60+ applications to go through for these two positions. As a side note, about 2/3's of those applying for these somewhat "entry-level" positions, have a BA or even their Master's degrees. Goes to show that the job market is a tough place right now. There are a lot of people job hunting.
Once the resumes are selected, then comes the interviews. Then possibly a second interview, then the selection of an applicant, making the offer, running the background and credit checks, drug test, personality test, etc, etc. I know, I'm moving and going to work for another company, but I promised my boss I would leave my job ready to hand over, turn-key if you will. So, I unfortunately have to put some real time and thought into who I hire, even if I won't be there after they start.
And who do you suppose has to cover those two positions while we're trying to get them filled?? Well it's ME, Super Woman,of course! CAN YOU SAY, "BURNING TO CANDLE AT BOTH ENDS." It's really no wonder I'm sick.
On top of all that, I just spent Valentines Day without the one person in this world I wanted desperately to spend it with, and that just takes the cake for me this week. I haven't even seen Tim for a month. I am not one of those people who has a problem with being alone. Sometimes, I even relish being alone. I've never been someone who HAS to have a boyfriend. But when I do, I want to BE with them, especially on the most romantic day of the year. I know, boo hoo again.
I just can't wait until we actually live in the same area code and can see each other more than either of us probably cares to see each other! This is the motivation that keeps me going when I think about the daunting task ahead of me- selling my house, moving my stuff, starting a new job in a new State-- and doing a lot of it alone.
I imagine it's weeks like this that keep the travel industry afloat.
I think I need a Bahamavention! Or a Carribavention! Or a Cabovention! Anyone want to join me? Ok, but you have to pick up a paint brush or rake and earn your keep first! Or pay for the trip ;) 
Cheers!
I have officially caught the plague and have been home from work now for 2 days.For those of you who don't know me this might seem normal, but it's not. I don't miss work. In fact, I almost ALWAYs at least make it in to work. I figure I can try to work and if, once I'm there, I am in fact too sick to work, then I'll go home. This week I actually "called" in sick. That means, I'm really ill. Not just playing hooky. Boo Hoo. I've learned though that being single means having to take care of yourself when you're sick. No one to care if you need cough syrup or soup, no back rubs, no pity party. (I should re-phrase that. I have people who CARE, just no one within 5 hours of where I am now wasting away in my bed.)
On top of being sick, I also put my house up for sale this week. I've spent the past 6 months getting the house remodeled and repairs done so that I wouldn't have to die of embarassment every time the realtor parades some stranger through my home. Though there are still a hundred little loose ends that need to be taken care of--such as raking up the leaves that have been in my back yard since last fall, and cleaning out the garage-- I am running out of time, patience and energy. So, needless to say I finally hired a realtor.
What a racket! I DID try to sell my house as "For Sale By Owner" for a month, only to get just a few bites of interest; mostly people who buy houses as investment property. It was just too darn time consuming to do it on my own. On top of working endless hours every week and trying to work on "fixing up" the house on the weekends, I was also trying to show the property on my lunch breaks or after work. YIKES! Now, I can at least say I tried.
Having to pay a realtor 6-7% of the sale price is one tough pill to swallow though. Anyone out there who's a realtor, please understand that I know you work hard to sell the properties that you're contracted to sell, but even on my small, cheap, $140,000 house, it will end up costing me $11,000 with realtor and closing costs.
This sucks, but it's also compounded by the fact that prior to my divorce, we used the equity in the house to pay for some of the remodeling projects we had done, and to pay off credit card debt. Some mine, most my ex's. This means that I may end up having to bring money to closing in order to sell my humble abode. They say, hindsight in 20/20, and had I know my husband would decide to walk after 10 years together, I certainly would not have used this precious asset- my home equity-to pay off debt; debt that my ex accumulated from HIS first marriage-yada yada yada. Ughh- enough about the ex.
Lastly, work this week has been a terror. I have a very small staff where I'm at right now, and last week 1/2 (which equates to 2 people) of them quit. No, not a mutiny. But they both quit without notice. I have spent the past week reading, sorting, and grading resumes. I have 60+ applications to go through for these two positions. As a side note, about 2/3's of those applying for these somewhat "entry-level" positions, have a BA or even their Master's degrees. Goes to show that the job market is a tough place right now. There are a lot of people job hunting.
Once the resumes are selected, then comes the interviews. Then possibly a second interview, then the selection of an applicant, making the offer, running the background and credit checks, drug test, personality test, etc, etc. I know, I'm moving and going to work for another company, but I promised my boss I would leave my job ready to hand over, turn-key if you will. So, I unfortunately have to put some real time and thought into who I hire, even if I won't be there after they start.
And who do you suppose has to cover those two positions while we're trying to get them filled?? Well it's ME, Super Woman,of course! CAN YOU SAY, "BURNING TO CANDLE AT BOTH ENDS." It's really no wonder I'm sick.
On top of all that, I just spent Valentines Day without the one person in this world I wanted desperately to spend it with, and that just takes the cake for me this week. I haven't even seen Tim for a month. I am not one of those people who has a problem with being alone. Sometimes, I even relish being alone. I've never been someone who HAS to have a boyfriend. But when I do, I want to BE with them, especially on the most romantic day of the year. I know, boo hoo again.
I just can't wait until we actually live in the same area code and can see each other more than either of us probably cares to see each other! This is the motivation that keeps me going when I think about the daunting task ahead of me- selling my house, moving my stuff, starting a new job in a new State-- and doing a lot of it alone.
I imagine it's weeks like this that keep the travel industry afloat.
I think I need a Bahamavention! Or a Carribavention! Or a Cabovention! Anyone want to join me? Ok, but you have to pick up a paint brush or rake and earn your keep first! Or pay for the trip ;) 
Cheers!
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Not Just For Grandma Anymore!
Until the recent news about astronaut Lisa Nowak, who stalked and maced some poor lady for dating a guy who Nowak was infatuated with, I had truly under-appreciated the Adult Diaper. Think about all the possibilities:
1. Great for those long distance road trips
2. You no longer have to get up half way through a great movie to use the restroom
3. Of course it's easier to stalk someone you want to catch and mace
4. You no longer have to be frustrated when you have the window or middle seat on the airplane. "Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me. Oh sorry. Oops. Pardon me....."
5. Get stuck in rush hour traffic a lot?
6. Maybe you can't possibly miss the commercials during the Super Bowl?
7. They are just so darn sexy.
8. Addicted to playing Xbox?
9. When you're having a real lucky streak in Vegas?
What a great invention!! Of course 100's of astronauts can't be wrong! They swear by them. Especially if you need to stalk and mace someone.
1. Great for those long distance road trips
2. You no longer have to get up half way through a great movie to use the restroom
3. Of course it's easier to stalk someone you want to catch and mace
4. You no longer have to be frustrated when you have the window or middle seat on the airplane. "Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me. Oh sorry. Oops. Pardon me....."
5. Get stuck in rush hour traffic a lot?6. Maybe you can't possibly miss the commercials during the Super Bowl?
7. They are just so darn sexy.
8. Addicted to playing Xbox?
9. When you're having a real lucky streak in Vegas?
What a great invention!! Of course 100's of astronauts can't be wrong! They swear by them. Especially if you need to stalk and mace someone.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Single to SULLY In 7 Seconds
When did Single become synonymous with sully? Has it been true throughout history that bachelors are inevitably messy people? This question came to me as I begin the process of listing and selling my house. I have come to realize that it is a lot of work keeping your house clean enough to sell--especially when you live alone. But what about those "singles" who aren't forced to keep their happy abode neat? And please understand, I mean messy not necessarily dirty, though some of us are innately dirty as well (present company NOT included--I can handle clutter, but not dirt.)
Here's an example. I have a friend, who we'll call B for anonymity's sake, who is single--that is, he lives alone-- and has no children. The other day I went to his house to visit, and as I entered his front door, I was blasted with smell of rancid baby puke and floor cleaner.
I instantly recalled a conversation we'd had just the week prior about the jug of milk in his refrigerator that had an expiration date of sometime in October. Low and behold, the rotten milk ate through the plastic container and leaked down the front of the refrigerator and onto the kitchen floor (hence the floor cleaner smell.)
And this isn't a rarity with him, or me for that matter. If you opened my refrigerator today you would find 2 or 3 dishes with some now mysterious left-overs in them and probably some moldy cheese. And though I've never had food go so bad that it actually ate thought the container it was in, I've had my share of fuzzy fruit and lumpy milk.
But the refrigerator isn't the only problem. Just looking around my kitchen you will usually find dishes in the sink, the bread has gone moldy, and my potatoes have grown something resembling "little albino old man" legs. You know, those crazy little tentacles that oddly sprout from your potato when you're not watching.
If you were to then venture from my kitchen to my living room you'd find that my dog, Murry, has decided to annihilate a paper towel or wrapper that has fallen to the floor. He's a long-haired Dachsund, so he basically looks like an Irish Setter with no legs. He's such a "low-rider", that when he walks he proceed to carry everything under him, with him. So needless to say, my living room floor will sometimes be covered in leaves or those annoying "balls" that fall from the Sycamore tree I have out back.
From there you could see that my bedroom has a few articles of dirty clothes in the chair next to my bed (because of course the laundry hamper is full of clean clothes waiting to be folded and put away.) The bed hasn't been made and my 12 year old cat may have decided this day was a good one to puke up a hair ball smack dab in the middle of the room-- oh joy! The bath room is buried in all my hair and make-up "stuff" and I never seem to be able to get the damned toilet paper roll in it's proper place. It ends up instead on the floor next to the toilet.
I know a few bachelors who are "neat as a pin," as Senator Biden would say, so I don't know if messiness is a god given right of single people, but it sure seems that the majority of us live in a clean / messy dichotomy. Their house might be clean only for special occasions or there may be special rooms that are maintained while the rest of the house is a disaster. Or maybe you're the weekend warrior type (like me) who goes "balls to the wall" for 2 days each week and then just let it all slide the rest of the week.
Like I said earlier, I am selling my house for my move to Boise. This requires that every nook and cranny be clean and neat. After spending a week scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, and shampooing, I now know why people let this stuff go. It's alot of work. Especially alone-there's no "honey-do" lists; no delegation. Especially if you are like me and work A LOT of hours every week. I feel like I spend my whole life working and cleaning.
Well forgot that! I am too busy, too tired, and too bored with cleaning.
I hired Merry Maids today.
Ahhhh someone else can deal with being neat for me. Maybe being an un-tidy bachelor isn't so bad after all.
Friday, February 2, 2007
THE JOURNEY
The Journey
One day you finally knew
What you had to do, and began
Though the voices around you Kept shouting
Their bad advice -
Though the whole house
Began to tremble
And you felt the old tug
At your ankles "Mend my life!"Each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do,
Though the wind pried
With its stiff fingers
At the very foundations,
Though their melancholy
Was terrible.
It was already late .jpg)
Enough, and a wild night,
And the road full of fallen stones.
But little by little,
As you left their voices behind,
The stars began to burn
Through the sheets of clouds,
And there was a new voice,
Which you slowly recognized as your own,
That kept you company
As you strode deeper and deeper
Into the world,
Determined to do
The only thing you could do -Determined to save
The only life you could save.
By Mary Oliver
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Failure
You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing that we call "failure" is not the falling down, but the staying down.
Mary Pickford
ABOUT MARY PICKFORDFrom a very early age, MARY PICKFORD was determined to become a success. If she set her mind on something, Mary would not give up until she was in the door, and had the chance to prove herself. Whether she was surprising Toronto audiences at the age of five, auditioning for David Belasco, or convincing D.W. Griffith that she was worth more than any of the other stock performers in his Biograph company, Mary believed in her ability to overcome all obstacles.Her ambition may have stemmed from a need to survive in troubled times, but her innate talent is what made Mary Pickford one of the most incredible performers on screen, and her head for business made her one of the greatest perfectionists in the history of film.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Code Name: Tulip
I have a confession. I live a secret life. A life that only a handful of people know about. Its a life not many understand.
I am a video game junky.
This is something I usually don't readily share with many people. In my normal life, I am a 31 year old accomplished professional--an experienced business woman. To share that I love to gun down an opponent at point blank range on my 25' monitor is somewhat embarrassing, and maybe even considered juvenile to some. And this certainly would not be understood by one of my 70 year old clients. I don't even know that my 30 year friends can understand the pleasure I derive from *snipping* an opponent from a hidden vantage point.
Now, you could easily explain this strange phenomenon away by saying that I must just crave and enjoy the violence, and Lord knows, that for some odd, very unfeminine, unwoman-like reason, I do enjoy the violence. I like the blood and guts (the more the better), it's true; sick and true. But the truth is I like all sorts of video games. Give me a real good sim or strategy game, even a puzzle, and you're likely to lose me for hours, if not days. There's something more there for me then just the violence.
Like everything else in life (just kidding mom,) I can blame some of this habit on my parents. I grew up in a household that looked a little different than most of my peers. My dad not only bought us a video game system for Christmas, he sat down and played it with us. He eventually stopped buying them for us all together and just bought them for himself. To this day, he still plays and owns the latest and greatest Xbox. And though I think he's currently a little addicted (the pot calling the kettle black, blah blah) to gaming, it's one the the things I've always loved most about my dad. That, and the fact that he watches South Park with me, and once yelled at the top of him lungs from a Hampton Inn window "I am the Great Cornholio, I need TP for my bunghole!"
So its in my genes a little bit. And I grew up on video games. I started on a Colleco (sp) System when I was in the 3rd grade, and my friend next door had the Atari. We played games like Asteroids, and Pit Fall for hours on end. I graduated to the Nintendo in Middle School. This is when I first learned that I was pretty good at video gaming. I later moved on to the Super Nintendo and then, after high school, had an epiphany! My cousin introduced me to the genre of Computer Gaming, and shareware-god bless it! He turned me on to my still all-time favorite games, Duke Nukem. It changed me forever.
I grew up with video games and I am good at them too. I'm also a woman, and up until the last 10 years there weren't many of us out there--female gamers that is. Things are different now, especially with the existence of video game consoles, but we're still a minority. In high school I came to love the amount of respect I could command from an entire room of guys by beating them on the Nintendo. I began to harvest a lust for kicking the ass of some cocky guy who thought I couldn't play Serious Sam or Command & Conquer because I was "a girl."I loved racking up the *kills*. It became a competition. A huge Adrenalin rush, and yet extremely relaxing as well. When my marriage began going south a few years ago, gaming became an escape; a place where I could hide from reality. It wasn't a crutch, like a drug so much, but a conscious decision to not deal with the life in front of me-- a comfort from the stresses of day to day life.
My life is different today. I don't play video games quite as much as I used, but I do still play. I no longer feel the same need to live in fantasy, versus reality. But I do still love a graphic First Person Shooter. The bloodier the better.
I don't know why. Please don't think me juvenile. Please try not to judge me. And boy oh boy, don't dare cross my path on-line playing a game like Unreal Tournament. You'll recognize me by my code name, Tulip.
I am a video game junky.
This is something I usually don't readily share with many people. In my normal life, I am a 31 year old accomplished professional--an experienced business woman. To share that I love to gun down an opponent at point blank range on my 25' monitor is somewhat embarrassing, and maybe even considered juvenile to some. And this certainly would not be understood by one of my 70 year old clients. I don't even know that my 30 year friends can understand the pleasure I derive from *snipping* an opponent from a hidden vantage point.Now, you could easily explain this strange phenomenon away by saying that I must just crave and enjoy the violence, and Lord knows, that for some odd, very unfeminine, unwoman-like reason, I do enjoy the violence. I like the blood and guts (the more the better), it's true; sick and true. But the truth is I like all sorts of video games. Give me a real good sim or strategy game, even a puzzle, and you're likely to lose me for hours, if not days. There's something more there for me then just the violence.
Like everything else in life (just kidding mom,) I can blame some of this habit on my parents. I grew up in a household that looked a little different than most of my peers. My dad not only bought us a video game system for Christmas, he sat down and played it with us. He eventually stopped buying them for us all together and just bought them for himself. To this day, he still plays and owns the latest and greatest Xbox. And though I think he's currently a little addicted (the pot calling the kettle black, blah blah) to gaming, it's one the the things I've always loved most about my dad. That, and the fact that he watches South Park with me, and once yelled at the top of him lungs from a Hampton Inn window "I am the Great Cornholio, I need TP for my bunghole!"
So its in my genes a little bit. And I grew up on video games. I started on a Colleco (sp) System when I was in the 3rd grade, and my friend next door had the Atari. We played games like Asteroids, and Pit Fall for hours on end. I graduated to the Nintendo in Middle School. This is when I first learned that I was pretty good at video gaming. I later moved on to the Super Nintendo and then, after high school, had an epiphany! My cousin introduced me to the genre of Computer Gaming, and shareware-god bless it! He turned me on to my still all-time favorite games, Duke Nukem. It changed me forever.
I grew up with video games and I am good at them too. I'm also a woman, and up until the last 10 years there weren't many of us out there--female gamers that is. Things are different now, especially with the existence of video game consoles, but we're still a minority. In high school I came to love the amount of respect I could command from an entire room of guys by beating them on the Nintendo. I began to harvest a lust for kicking the ass of some cocky guy who thought I couldn't play Serious Sam or Command & Conquer because I was "a girl."I loved racking up the *kills*. It became a competition. A huge Adrenalin rush, and yet extremely relaxing as well. When my marriage began going south a few years ago, gaming became an escape; a place where I could hide from reality. It wasn't a crutch, like a drug so much, but a conscious decision to not deal with the life in front of me-- a comfort from the stresses of day to day life.
My life is different today. I don't play video games quite as much as I used, but I do still play. I no longer feel the same need to live in fantasy, versus reality. But I do still love a graphic First Person Shooter. The bloodier the better.
I don't know why. Please don't think me juvenile. Please try not to judge me. And boy oh boy, don't dare cross my path on-line playing a game like Unreal Tournament. You'll recognize me by my code name, Tulip.
I'll be the one pickin' ya off from a mile away, with a smile.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
2006 Best Headlines
THE YEAR'S BEST (actual) HEADLINES OF 2006...enjoy!
Crack Found on Governor's DaughterImagine that--Which end were they looking at?
Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert SaysIsn't that something?
Police Begin Campaign to Run Down JaywalkerMaking punishment fit the crime
Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?Whaaat??
Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over
What a guy.Miners Refuse to Work after Death
Those unions, what will they gripe about next?
Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant
See if that works any better than a fair trial.
War Dims Hope for Peace
It DOES have that effect, doesn't it?
If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile
This headline PEGGED the obvious meter...
Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures
Who would have thunk it...
Enfield ( London ) Couple Slain; Police Suspect
HomicideThey may be on to something.
Red Tape Holds Up New BridgesYou mean there's something stronger than duct tape?
Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery ChargeLightning has that affect on some people...
New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test GroupWOW. Weren't they fat enough?
Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in SpacecraftThat's what he gets for eating those beans.
Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
...and they taste just like chicken, too.
Local High School Dropouts Cut in HalfChainsaw Massacre all over again.
Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors
Boy, are they good at basketball, too.And the winner is....
Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead
Not one of them complained, though.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Dedicated to Dirty Dan
I was going to save this poem for another day when my "Lame-Brainedness" kicked in again like it did Saturday and I can't think of anything interesting to write about. However, I learned recently that Dan over at Dan's Blah Blah Blog has never heard of Shel Silverstein. And this has been one of my favorite poems since I was a kid.
Forgive me for flooding this blog with poems from Shel-- But I had to dedicate this one to my dear friend Dan! Please visit his site, you'll understand the irony of this poem! The only simularity is the name-- I hope !
DIRTY DAN
Oh I'm Dirty Dan, the world's dirtiest man,
I never have taken a shower.
I can't see my shirt--It's so covered with dirt,
And my ears have enough to grow flowers.
But the water is either a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I'm musty and dusty and patchy and scratchy
And mangy and covered with mold.
But the water is always a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I live in a pen with five hogs and a hen
And three squizzley lizards who creep in
My bed, and they itch as I squirm, and I twitch
In the cruddy old sheets that I sleep in.
If you looked down my throat with a flashlight, you'd note
That my insides are coated with rust.
I creak when I walk and I squeak when I talk,
And each time I sneeze I blow dust.
The thought of a towel and some soap makes me howl,
And when people have something to tell me
They don't come and tell it-- they stand back and yell it.
I think they're afraid they might smell me.
The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to sleep,
And the garbage flies buzz me awake.
They're the best friend I've found and I fear they might drown
So I ever go too near a lake.
Each evening at nine I sit down to dine
With the termites who live in my chair,
And I joke with the bats and have intimate chats
With the cooties who crawl through my hair.
I'd brighten my life if I just found a wife,
But I fear that that never will be
Until I can find a girl, gently and kind,
With a beautiful face and a sensitive mind,
Who sparkles and twinkles and glistens and shines--
And who' almost as dirty as me!
-Shel Silverstein, "Where the Sidewalk Ends"
Forgive me for flooding this blog with poems from Shel-- But I had to dedicate this one to my dear friend Dan! Please visit his site, you'll understand the irony of this poem! The only simularity is the name-- I hope !
DIRTY DAN
Oh I'm Dirty Dan, the world's dirtiest man,
I never have taken a shower.
I can't see my shirt--It's so covered with dirt,
And my ears have enough to grow flowers.
But the water is either a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I'm musty and dusty and patchy and scratchy
And mangy and covered with mold.
But the water is always a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I live in a pen with five hogs and a hen
And three squizzley lizards who creep in
My bed, and they itch as I squirm, and I twitch
In the cruddy old sheets that I sleep in.
If you looked down my throat with a flashlight, you'd note
That my insides are coated with rust.
I creak when I walk and I squeak when I talk,
And each time I sneeze I blow dust.
The thought of a towel and some soap makes me howl,
And when people have something to tell me
They don't come and tell it-- they stand back and yell it.
I think they're afraid they might smell me.
The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to sleep,
And the garbage flies buzz me awake.
They're the best friend I've found and I fear they might drown
So I ever go too near a lake.
Each evening at nine I sit down to dine
With the termites who live in my chair,
And I joke with the bats and have intimate chats
With the cooties who crawl through my hair.
I'd brighten my life if I just found a wife,
But I fear that that never will be
Until I can find a girl, gently and kind,
With a beautiful face and a sensitive mind,
Who sparkles and twinkles and glistens and shines--
And who' almost as dirty as me!
-Shel Silverstein, "Where the Sidewalk Ends"
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