Jenny the Dragon is dead.
I knew she was on her way out this morning when I went to feed her and she didn't almost jump out of the tank at the flakes like usual. She just stayed in the bottom corner breathing heavily and listing a bit to one side. It did not look good.
Five hours later and she's in the same spot, lying on the rocks now completely horizontal. I haven't gone so far as to check vitals. I can tell from here she is no longer with us.
I debated whether to dispose of her before the kids got home or to let them mourn her loss and experience a proper goldfish burial. We're going with the latter. I wonder if candles are necessary?
We have had a couple of fish kick off in the past, but those were unusual circumstances. Suffice it to say, I don't have the best of luck with Bettas. The first Betta was Heckle, he took a flying leap into the garbage disposal the summer that my X left. I could hear him flopping around in there but I couldn't reach for him lest I shred him against something sharp. I was left sobbing on the kitchen floor overcome with grief as I heard him struggling in the sink. In hindsight, I suspect my devastation had little to do with the fish at the time. The next Betta was Jeckle. Jeckle was a lazy fish. I was constantly tapping the bowl to make sure he was alive. One day, he just wasn't. Easily replaced though...the kids still have no idea they're caring for Jeckle Part Deux.
Jenny is a different story. She's a hyper Lionhead goldfish who measures more than five inches long and looks more like a miniature Koi than your garden variety, easily replaceable, won-it-at-the-school-carnival goldfish. There's no getting around this and I am not looking forward to it.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Not a ghost story, just creepy at the time
I was driving down the road tonight and noticed a cop car just past the hospital. I surveyed the terrain and surmised that he didn't have much to go after in the way of errant cars on the road.
At almost 8 pm on a Friday night I had a thought. "Anyone who would have been driving now is already where they were going to be. "
Split second later I felt a voice say, "You are where you were going to be."
That was weird to the point of being remarkable. I might have even ducked at the time. Supremely unusual.
I'm just sayin'.
At almost 8 pm on a Friday night I had a thought. "Anyone who would have been driving now is already where they were going to be. "
Split second later I felt a voice say, "You are where you were going to be."
That was weird to the point of being remarkable. I might have even ducked at the time. Supremely unusual.
I'm just sayin'.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Next!
So, I got a job today. This is in no way career-related. I walked into one of my favorite stores and saw the "Now Hiring Full and Part-Time Positions" sign on the door and talked to my favorite sales girl (who does not call me ma'am by the way, she calls me Silver even though I don't spend a ton of money there) and she said, "You'd be perfect for this!" and pretty much hired me on the spot. It's just a few hours a week, but its sickly perfect for my schedule and super close to home and just a holiday-style gig. I start tomorrow.
And honestly, I could not think of a more perfect place to position myself to meet single, straight men than a stationery store. Really, what a meat market. How do I manage to choose these things? I could have walked into a gym or Home Depot, but nope, I needed stationery and the stars aligned for this. Que sera.
In other news, I came across a thing I wrote in college the other day and it still holds true even so many years later. "I want to be the water in the paint with water paints. My friends can be the little brown dots in the sleeping color pictures waiting for the perfect amounts of me to bring them alive. I must be careful not to smother though, or the colors will smear and swirl making a muddled, ugly mess."
I am reminded of this whenever I meet a new person. I haven't smothered anyone lately that I know of, but it's happened in the past. It's nothing illegal of course, just a general "coming on too strong too soon" thing that has been known to turn casual relationships into former relationships with lightning speed.
This is probably why I can spot desperate souls like that guy from the boat this summer a mile away, 'cause I've been there. As much as I would love to just avoid the encounter altogether, sometimes you have to shut those types down before they get carried away. Women can take a hint with little things like avoiding phone calls and general coldness, well, some women can. The ones who can't...I find them supremely entertaining. With men though...unfortunately, the only thing that gets through to men is a blow to the psyche in the form of a hyper acidic, smart ass comment. For example, that boat guy from the summer was cut off at the knees when he called from across the way, "Hey, why didn't anybody get me a sandwich?" as those of us who'd brought food ate lunch. No one said anything for a second, so I turned to him and said with a wide-eyed smile, "Because nobody likes you." I know, it's awful, but it worked.
In college there was this alumni guy who was like 24 but still hung out at fraternity parties trolling for girls and he was getting kind of creepy with me. Innocent little 19 year old that I was said, "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure," he answered with a wink, "name it." "Why don't you date girls your own age?" I asked. "Uh…" he stammered. "I mean, aren't there any girls at your work you could ask out?" "Uh…they're all fat," he said, defeated. Out of context this might not seem to get the point across, but trust me, with the right delivery…problem solved.
Anyway, I'm meeting new people now and who knows what could come of it.
Healthy temper of enthusiasm and detachment required.
And honestly, I could not think of a more perfect place to position myself to meet single, straight men than a stationery store. Really, what a meat market. How do I manage to choose these things? I could have walked into a gym or Home Depot, but nope, I needed stationery and the stars aligned for this. Que sera.
In other news, I came across a thing I wrote in college the other day and it still holds true even so many years later. "I want to be the water in the paint with water paints. My friends can be the little brown dots in the sleeping color pictures waiting for the perfect amounts of me to bring them alive. I must be careful not to smother though, or the colors will smear and swirl making a muddled, ugly mess."
I am reminded of this whenever I meet a new person. I haven't smothered anyone lately that I know of, but it's happened in the past. It's nothing illegal of course, just a general "coming on too strong too soon" thing that has been known to turn casual relationships into former relationships with lightning speed.
This is probably why I can spot desperate souls like that guy from the boat this summer a mile away, 'cause I've been there. As much as I would love to just avoid the encounter altogether, sometimes you have to shut those types down before they get carried away. Women can take a hint with little things like avoiding phone calls and general coldness, well, some women can. The ones who can't...I find them supremely entertaining. With men though...unfortunately, the only thing that gets through to men is a blow to the psyche in the form of a hyper acidic, smart ass comment. For example, that boat guy from the summer was cut off at the knees when he called from across the way, "Hey, why didn't anybody get me a sandwich?" as those of us who'd brought food ate lunch. No one said anything for a second, so I turned to him and said with a wide-eyed smile, "Because nobody likes you." I know, it's awful, but it worked.
In college there was this alumni guy who was like 24 but still hung out at fraternity parties trolling for girls and he was getting kind of creepy with me. Innocent little 19 year old that I was said, "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure," he answered with a wink, "name it." "Why don't you date girls your own age?" I asked. "Uh…" he stammered. "I mean, aren't there any girls at your work you could ask out?" "Uh…they're all fat," he said, defeated. Out of context this might not seem to get the point across, but trust me, with the right delivery…problem solved.
Anyway, I'm meeting new people now and who knows what could come of it.
Healthy temper of enthusiasm and detachment required.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Incomplete list of demands
I got rear ended this afternoon. Not in an X rated way (get your mind out of the gutter), I was stopped at a light on FC road and some poor guy nailed the back of my car. I couldn't be mad about it though. First of all, my kids have done worse damage to the g-getter with their bike handlebars and secondly, this is the first time in a 20 year driving career I haven't been the one at fault in this type of situation. I am not a great driver. I would never be hired as a valet.
Anyway, after that I drove to a meeting in Norfolk and my mind wandered. I really wanted a cheeseburger and came up with a list of other demands in the process.
1. Cheeseburger – This is not your average cheeseburger. I want a half-pound burger, yummily seasoned and cooked to medium-well but still moist, juicy and slightly falling apart. It has to have cheddar cheese, dill pickle, raw onion and extra mayonnaise on a lightly toasted buttery bun. I want a thick, creamy chocolate milk shake to go with this and a side of wedge fries (the really greasy kind with the skins still on and lots of salt). Ketchup and mayo on the side. The imperative part of this cheeseburger experience is that I don't want to fall into a food coma or feel overwhelmingly sick afterward or like I just gained an immediate 15 pounds.
2. Beautiful Sam – I want to meet a guy, but not just any guy. I want to meet Sam again. I met him in Hometown Heroes on Shore Drive one night in 1999. I sat down with my Miller Lite and NTN Trivia Box next to the most beautiful man I have ever met in person. We chatted for a while; at one point I was so taken with his magnetic good looks that I actually blurted out, "You are gorgeous by the way." I was recently married at the time…I was fearless. He invited me to a Tom Petty concert. If I had known that at that exact moment my husband was deservedly getting the snot beat out of him by a few Navy SEALS in the parking lot of 5150 for being a complete assbag, I probably would have said, "Next Tuesday you say? Sure, pick me up at 6." Instead I said, "Thanks anyway, but I'm married, I don't think my husband would approve." I am such a moron. Anyway, I ran into him again at G.F. Keegan's at Hilltop 3 ½ years later. I knew it was him because I was awestruck by his looks from across the room. I said to my sister, "Oh my god, that is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in person…wait…I know that guy…that's Beautiful Sam!" Of course I crossed the room to talk with him. He remembered me well but he was with a girl and I was still married at the time. I haven't seen him since, but I haven't forgotten him either. If you know who I'm talking about, tell him Silver says, "Hi." Unless he's a real jerk...then tell him to email me immediately.
3. Money for just being fabulous – The only problem with this is that I'm not all that fabulous, so I don't know if I could pull in the millions I'd like. I have these momentary delusions of grandeur when I think I could be the next Oprah or something, but then I think, "Everybody probably thinks that. What's so great about me?!" Despite the fact that I am great at people, I would probably end up more like the next Sarah Palin. Cute, charming, but distinctly unqualified for a position in the national spotlight. I could always start with Mayor or PTA President or whatever. I mean, I'm in the PTA already; that's like the best springboard ever apparently. I am the quintessential "little sister" "girl next door" type with subtle (and occasionally powerful) sex appeal, a history of saying incredibly inappropriate things and being involved in minor scandals that would make me perfect for politics. The voiceover thing seems a bit out of reach, so I may just audition for a reality show instead. Big Brother casts in the spring. The kids have already told me they would support this endeavor. I'm thinking about Survivor too, the only drawback is eating the yucky stuff in the food challenge. Maybe the Amazing Race.
Five years ago, wanting leather pants might have been included on this list. Looking back on it, I don't think I ever really wanted leather pants. I wanted to have the option of wearing them and looking fantastic in the moment. Now I think leather pants are only reserved for people like Steven Tyler, David Hasselhoff, that magician who married Claudia Schiffer whose name escapes me at the moment and other celebrities who are really popular in Germany.
I also used to want to be a spy but that conflicts with the being famous thing in a major way. I'm really good at getting people to spill secrets though AND I'd be paid to tell them to important peoplefor the perceived greater good. How sweet would that be?!
After that, the list of demands fizzles. Plenty of other things I want, but most of them I could get on my own if I just had available cash and time. Like: Jump out of a plane (with a working parachute of course), complete home make over including furniture, drum kit, the ability to juggle, an annual month in a villa on the Mediterranean coast of Spain to perfect my Spanish and get a really good tan and to write a book with, for and about my Dad.
Anyway, after that I drove to a meeting in Norfolk and my mind wandered. I really wanted a cheeseburger and came up with a list of other demands in the process.
1. Cheeseburger – This is not your average cheeseburger. I want a half-pound burger, yummily seasoned and cooked to medium-well but still moist, juicy and slightly falling apart. It has to have cheddar cheese, dill pickle, raw onion and extra mayonnaise on a lightly toasted buttery bun. I want a thick, creamy chocolate milk shake to go with this and a side of wedge fries (the really greasy kind with the skins still on and lots of salt). Ketchup and mayo on the side. The imperative part of this cheeseburger experience is that I don't want to fall into a food coma or feel overwhelmingly sick afterward or like I just gained an immediate 15 pounds.
2. Beautiful Sam – I want to meet a guy, but not just any guy. I want to meet Sam again. I met him in Hometown Heroes on Shore Drive one night in 1999. I sat down with my Miller Lite and NTN Trivia Box next to the most beautiful man I have ever met in person. We chatted for a while; at one point I was so taken with his magnetic good looks that I actually blurted out, "You are gorgeous by the way." I was recently married at the time…I was fearless. He invited me to a Tom Petty concert. If I had known that at that exact moment my husband was deservedly getting the snot beat out of him by a few Navy SEALS in the parking lot of 5150 for being a complete assbag, I probably would have said, "Next Tuesday you say? Sure, pick me up at 6." Instead I said, "Thanks anyway, but I'm married, I don't think my husband would approve." I am such a moron. Anyway, I ran into him again at G.F. Keegan's at Hilltop 3 ½ years later. I knew it was him because I was awestruck by his looks from across the room. I said to my sister, "Oh my god, that is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in person…wait…I know that guy…that's Beautiful Sam!" Of course I crossed the room to talk with him. He remembered me well but he was with a girl and I was still married at the time. I haven't seen him since, but I haven't forgotten him either. If you know who I'm talking about, tell him Silver says, "Hi." Unless he's a real jerk...then tell him to email me immediately.
3. Money for just being fabulous – The only problem with this is that I'm not all that fabulous, so I don't know if I could pull in the millions I'd like. I have these momentary delusions of grandeur when I think I could be the next Oprah or something, but then I think, "Everybody probably thinks that. What's so great about me?!" Despite the fact that I am great at people, I would probably end up more like the next Sarah Palin. Cute, charming, but distinctly unqualified for a position in the national spotlight. I could always start with Mayor or PTA President or whatever. I mean, I'm in the PTA already; that's like the best springboard ever apparently. I am the quintessential "little sister" "girl next door" type with subtle (and occasionally powerful) sex appeal, a history of saying incredibly inappropriate things and being involved in minor scandals that would make me perfect for politics. The voiceover thing seems a bit out of reach, so I may just audition for a reality show instead. Big Brother casts in the spring. The kids have already told me they would support this endeavor. I'm thinking about Survivor too, the only drawback is eating the yucky stuff in the food challenge. Maybe the Amazing Race.
Five years ago, wanting leather pants might have been included on this list. Looking back on it, I don't think I ever really wanted leather pants. I wanted to have the option of wearing them and looking fantastic in the moment. Now I think leather pants are only reserved for people like Steven Tyler, David Hasselhoff, that magician who married Claudia Schiffer whose name escapes me at the moment and other celebrities who are really popular in Germany.
I also used to want to be a spy but that conflicts with the being famous thing in a major way. I'm really good at getting people to spill secrets though AND I'd be paid to tell them to important peoplefor the perceived greater good. How sweet would that be?!
After that, the list of demands fizzles. Plenty of other things I want, but most of them I could get on my own if I just had available cash and time. Like: Jump out of a plane (with a working parachute of course), complete home make over including furniture, drum kit, the ability to juggle, an annual month in a villa on the Mediterranean coast of Spain to perfect my Spanish and get a really good tan and to write a book with, for and about my Dad.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Mental Meandering
I've stopped drinking recently. Note the use of the word "stopped" rather than "quit." I'm not taking any moral high ground. This isn't even court-ordered. I am just so profoundly broke that I cannot afford my usual nightly escape. This turn of events does not suck as much as I thought it would. Slightly depressing, yes, but I begrudgingly concede that not hitting the snooze button 17 times every morning is a good thing. Even on nights like this when it's stupid amounts of late and I still can't turn my brain off to sleep…I'll wake up bright eyed at 6:22 tomorrow and get children happily off to school with requisite vat of coffee in hand (my hand, not theirs of course). I may walk a few miles after that, there could be lunges and free weights happening as well. That's another benefit to my accidental sobriety and unemployment; I have lots of time to work out again…I can't promise crunches though…I'm only human.
So anyway, I can't sleep and rather than allow the following topics to keep me awake any longer, I am sharing them with you…now they can keep you awake. You are welcome.
The Neverending Wine Glass: I attended "Supper Club" last Saturday night and experienced what I'll call The Neverending Wine Glass. The Neverending Wine Glass helped me turn into a complete idiot. Let's just say I was very talkative…even more than usual. Only some of what I said was making sense by the night's end (yeah, commence with the eye rolling…I was adorable). That's definitely a sign that the night is oooo-verrrr (and probably should have ended at least a couple hours before).
If I [am allowed to] participate in Supper Club again, two things will happen: 1) I will set an alarm to leave no later than 10 and 2) I will stick with beer.
Hanukkah: My gas tank light was on for DAYS and miraculously I was able to get from place to place anyway…sometimes in cases of extreme unction, well, maybe not extreme unction…but there was some kind of unction involved I am sure. This seems pretty significant. I was wondering if I should celebrate Hanukkah this year. I'm not eschewing the tree or Santa or having a crisis of faith, but I think lighting a menorah might be appropriate. This only sounds like I'm kidding.
Being Famous Anyway: I thought I was going to have a job by now. I thought that surely I would have been discovered as a major vocal talent by NOW. Not singing of course (that ship sailed after All City Chorus in 6th grade), voice overs for commercials. See, they said my voice has a "sellable quality" but because I lack professional experience they recommend a voice coach to get more polished. Crap. Even if I had the money, I really do not feel like spending $400 on a voice coach. Although, now that I think of it, I did spend $400 for bartending school a million years ago and that was certainly worth it (seriously, I could barely make a Gin and Tonic before 1996), maybe this will be the same. I need a job to finance my dream job. This is probably less unusual than I feel like it should be.
The Starter Wife: I really don't want to like this show. Call me crazy, but Deborah Messing strikes me as annoying…or at least I feel like she is. But then I watch her, and she's not as annoying as I remember her to be. Anyway, I caught a rerun of The Starter Wife two hour season opener and I think I have been effectively sucked in. Damnit.
Text Messaging: I don't fucking get it. I mean, how long do you text? When is a phone call appropriate? How long do you wait between texts? Do I text first after a few days or do I wait for him to man-up and start the next inane volley?
I have a book with a chapter about this somewhere, although I haven't been able to find it for over a month and now wonder if I maybe (shudder) threw it away. For me, the woman with random pieces of paper and other stupidity dating back to the previous millennium floating around everywhere, this seems completely implausible…but…I can't find that freakin' book ANYwhere. I think a higher power is hiding it from me. I think this means I am not destined to start dating someone via text.
Korean Air Lines: Why does this look like a commercial for Tiffany & Co.?
Brain Cancer: A rumor has spread that my X has brain cancer. I am not responsible for the rumor; in fact I find it funny because the whole idea of it is founded on the premise that he has a brain. However, it would take a wildly creative person to come up with a rumor about him that wasn't at least somewhat based in fact…so it's kind of true…but not really…and not fatal.
One morning in May I thought it might have been fatal for about three hours and I was shocked to feel a little panicked at the prospect. Shocked I tell you. Then I met him for lunch that day to find out the real story. What he actually has is a fatty mass in his head…apparently there's some vacant space in there that needed filling. Brain cancer…puh-lease.
But he wanted comforting words y'know, something to focus on for the long haul. So I told him "Don't worry. You'll die someday, just not from this."
New Friend: I just met someone online that I probably should have met years ago. I heard her name all the time, but it was in such a context that she became practically mythic to me and I thought…I could never approach such a person. I'm not worthy. I finally got over that uncharacteristic idiocy today (after eleven years mind you) and we emailed back and forth and…she seems really cool. No wonder all the guys I used to hang out with held her in such high regard. I am looking forward to meeting her in person. I have a feeling it will be an afternoon full of "me TOO!" moments…at least, that's how it's looking so far.
The Campaign: Now it's REALLY late and there's so much I think about that…I'll have to save it for another blog. I'll leave you with this though, notice how McCain has taken to hopping and waving on stage the last day or so? It makes him look really short.
So anyway, I can't sleep and rather than allow the following topics to keep me awake any longer, I am sharing them with you…now they can keep you awake. You are welcome.
The Neverending Wine Glass: I attended "Supper Club" last Saturday night and experienced what I'll call The Neverending Wine Glass. The Neverending Wine Glass helped me turn into a complete idiot. Let's just say I was very talkative…even more than usual. Only some of what I said was making sense by the night's end (yeah, commence with the eye rolling…I was adorable). That's definitely a sign that the night is oooo-verrrr (and probably should have ended at least a couple hours before).
If I [am allowed to] participate in Supper Club again, two things will happen: 1) I will set an alarm to leave no later than 10 and 2) I will stick with beer.
Hanukkah: My gas tank light was on for DAYS and miraculously I was able to get from place to place anyway…sometimes in cases of extreme unction, well, maybe not extreme unction…but there was some kind of unction involved I am sure. This seems pretty significant. I was wondering if I should celebrate Hanukkah this year. I'm not eschewing the tree or Santa or having a crisis of faith, but I think lighting a menorah might be appropriate. This only sounds like I'm kidding.
Being Famous Anyway: I thought I was going to have a job by now. I thought that surely I would have been discovered as a major vocal talent by NOW. Not singing of course (that ship sailed after All City Chorus in 6th grade), voice overs for commercials. See, they said my voice has a "sellable quality" but because I lack professional experience they recommend a voice coach to get more polished. Crap. Even if I had the money, I really do not feel like spending $400 on a voice coach. Although, now that I think of it, I did spend $400 for bartending school a million years ago and that was certainly worth it (seriously, I could barely make a Gin and Tonic before 1996), maybe this will be the same. I need a job to finance my dream job. This is probably less unusual than I feel like it should be.
The Starter Wife: I really don't want to like this show. Call me crazy, but Deborah Messing strikes me as annoying…or at least I feel like she is. But then I watch her, and she's not as annoying as I remember her to be. Anyway, I caught a rerun of The Starter Wife two hour season opener and I think I have been effectively sucked in. Damnit.
Text Messaging: I don't fucking get it. I mean, how long do you text? When is a phone call appropriate? How long do you wait between texts? Do I text first after a few days or do I wait for him to man-up and start the next inane volley?
I have a book with a chapter about this somewhere, although I haven't been able to find it for over a month and now wonder if I maybe (shudder) threw it away. For me, the woman with random pieces of paper and other stupidity dating back to the previous millennium floating around everywhere, this seems completely implausible…but…I can't find that freakin' book ANYwhere. I think a higher power is hiding it from me. I think this means I am not destined to start dating someone via text.
Korean Air Lines: Why does this look like a commercial for Tiffany & Co.?
Brain Cancer: A rumor has spread that my X has brain cancer. I am not responsible for the rumor; in fact I find it funny because the whole idea of it is founded on the premise that he has a brain. However, it would take a wildly creative person to come up with a rumor about him that wasn't at least somewhat based in fact…so it's kind of true…but not really…and not fatal.
One morning in May I thought it might have been fatal for about three hours and I was shocked to feel a little panicked at the prospect. Shocked I tell you. Then I met him for lunch that day to find out the real story. What he actually has is a fatty mass in his head…apparently there's some vacant space in there that needed filling. Brain cancer…puh-lease.
But he wanted comforting words y'know, something to focus on for the long haul. So I told him "Don't worry. You'll die someday, just not from this."
New Friend: I just met someone online that I probably should have met years ago. I heard her name all the time, but it was in such a context that she became practically mythic to me and I thought…I could never approach such a person. I'm not worthy. I finally got over that uncharacteristic idiocy today (after eleven years mind you) and we emailed back and forth and…she seems really cool. No wonder all the guys I used to hang out with held her in such high regard. I am looking forward to meeting her in person. I have a feeling it will be an afternoon full of "me TOO!" moments…at least, that's how it's looking so far.
The Campaign: Now it's REALLY late and there's so much I think about that…I'll have to save it for another blog. I'll leave you with this though, notice how McCain has taken to hopping and waving on stage the last day or so? It makes him look really short.
Monday, October 6, 2008
And on the seventh day...Skate Ramp!
I have a half-pipe in my backyard now. It measures 8 feet wide, 5 feet high and other dimensions as well. I found out it was coming on Friday. By the end of Sunday, I had neighbors in the backyard checking it out, taking pictures and even skating on it. That was only weird because sometimes I feel lucky if these people even speak to me at the bus stop in the mornings. Lucky is a relative term I suppose. Believe me, I've been around this town long enough to have been snubbed by better than them.
Perhaps I'm still in shock. I mean, as this was happening I just stood there watching and could not fucking believe it. I feel overwhelmed. I had to leave a couple of times during the day. It was still there when I got back. I still couldn't believe it.
Granted, it's cool, I like it. I've wanted the boys to have something like this for a while. The fact that my X is responsible for the construction of this project is just a smidge bizarre. It's like he picked the most superfluous unnecessary thing and made it the most immediate priority. He always does that though. (Fiction is so much more fun than reality)
I however am looking at the reality of this for the next few years and feel a general sense of, "Huh?" and "How much trouble am I going to get in because of this?"
Perhaps I'm still in shock. I mean, as this was happening I just stood there watching and could not fucking believe it. I feel overwhelmed. I had to leave a couple of times during the day. It was still there when I got back. I still couldn't believe it.
Granted, it's cool, I like it. I've wanted the boys to have something like this for a while. The fact that my X is responsible for the construction of this project is just a smidge bizarre. It's like he picked the most superfluous unnecessary thing and made it the most immediate priority. He always does that though. (Fiction is so much more fun than reality)
I however am looking at the reality of this for the next few years and feel a general sense of, "Huh?" and "How much trouble am I going to get in because of this?"
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Rambling
Okay, so I'm getting used to a new computer. Typing on a laptop is not AS difficult as I thought it would be but it's a hell of a lot more tempermental than I would prefer. Damn track pad.
Anyway I don't even know if I have funny stuff to offer lately. It just seems kind of weird and not as ironic as I would have hoped for.
Most immediately, earlier today a gentleman choose to register to vote based on my length of skirt (or rather, relative lack of length). He's going Obama, so…whatever works. J
This afternoon, I was sorting through clothes to consign and found that I have at least 200 pieces of boys clothing (not including coats) to sell. Mind you, I did not purchase these (nor are they stolen) but hell if I'm not going to spin someone else's tendency to hoard stuff to my ultimate financial benefit. And this is only winter stuff! Come spring, I'll have a whole other cache to unload.
Otherwise, I got emailed a link to a collection of cafepress t-shirts which were assumedly pro-Palin. I don't know if this person thought these were funny or if she was trying to provoke me. Of course I didn't take the bait but my advice, regardless of the sender's politics, is that I don't recommend she wear a shirt that says, "This little piggy wears lipstick/likes Palin/votes Republican," or any other "this little piggy" statement for that matter until she drops a couple of pounds. Ouch (I know).
Lately I am hooked on news channels. I don't know what my opinion is about the whole economic crisis. Perhaps if I had seven houses or more than $100K invested in the stock market I would be freaking out right now. I don't have debt. I don't have credit cards. I hear people talking about this and it's like they're speaking Spanish. I know some of it, but not enough to carry on an in depth conversation; sometimes I wish I knew more…but I'm okay right now. Suffice it to say, "Que triste; lo siento."
I kind of wonder why someone doesn't invent a virus that would do what we all thought Y2K would do. Just wipe out all the credit and all the debt and level the playing field.
Oh…yeah, too many firearms in play. Nevermind.
Anyway I don't even know if I have funny stuff to offer lately. It just seems kind of weird and not as ironic as I would have hoped for.
Most immediately, earlier today a gentleman choose to register to vote based on my length of skirt (or rather, relative lack of length). He's going Obama, so…whatever works. J
This afternoon, I was sorting through clothes to consign and found that I have at least 200 pieces of boys clothing (not including coats) to sell. Mind you, I did not purchase these (nor are they stolen) but hell if I'm not going to spin someone else's tendency to hoard stuff to my ultimate financial benefit. And this is only winter stuff! Come spring, I'll have a whole other cache to unload.
Otherwise, I got emailed a link to a collection of cafepress t-shirts which were assumedly pro-Palin. I don't know if this person thought these were funny or if she was trying to provoke me. Of course I didn't take the bait but my advice, regardless of the sender's politics, is that I don't recommend she wear a shirt that says, "This little piggy wears lipstick/likes Palin/votes Republican," or any other "this little piggy" statement for that matter until she drops a couple of pounds. Ouch (I know).
Lately I am hooked on news channels. I don't know what my opinion is about the whole economic crisis. Perhaps if I had seven houses or more than $100K invested in the stock market I would be freaking out right now. I don't have debt. I don't have credit cards. I hear people talking about this and it's like they're speaking Spanish. I know some of it, but not enough to carry on an in depth conversation; sometimes I wish I knew more…but I'm okay right now. Suffice it to say, "Que triste; lo siento."
I kind of wonder why someone doesn't invent a virus that would do what we all thought Y2K would do. Just wipe out all the credit and all the debt and level the playing field.
Oh…yeah, too many firearms in play. Nevermind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)