Still M T Headed

The Road to Fatsville is Paved With Good Intentions

2012-01-09T23:48:00.001-05:00

I was gonna be good, I swear.

I had spent a whopping seven(!) hours doing some major housework. I had miraculously transformed a disaster zone into a beautiful, nearly pristine bedroom all by myself. I craved a naughty fast food meal, and I deserved it! But no...I'll be good.

So, I go to the kitchen. I get out one of my "salad in a jar" specialties (hmm...I totally need to write about my experience with "salad in a jar"). I grab a cucumber, some carrots, an apple, and a jar of fat free dressing. I'm slicing and dicing my way to a healthy meal. I'm being so damn good!

But then, Heather comes upstairs. She and I have had a rough day spent trying to see who was the bigger bullhead (it's a tie). So, how can I possibly resist when she says, "wanna go with me to get some grub?"

That's how my Weight-Watchers 1-point "Good Intentions" dinner

turned into

a belly-busting 24-point reality. (But at least the drink was diet, right??)

In the end, I got to spend some much-needed time laughing with Heather, so it was totally worth it...no matter what the nasty Wii Fit bitch says tomorrow morning while I weigh myself.

And I have that salad all ready for my lunch tomorrow.

Grumbellies

2012-01-06T23:56:00.000-05:00

As if my unsatisfied taste buds didn't already make it clear, my belly is screaming with the borborygmi of hunger pangs.

Such is the life of a dieting computer-chair potato ('cause I never make it to the couch).

I decided to get serious regarding my efforts with Weight Watchers with the beginning of the year. Last year when I was tracking my "points," I was rarely hungry. I didn't even mind cutting way down on my fast food feasts. Oh, but last month when I went on an all-out food-fest, I must have corrupted all of my willpower. Now, every night, I'm scouting the cupboards for those elusive 0-point treats because I've already reached my quota by dinnertime. Let me tell ya, eating a can of green beans at 11 p.m. is just not what I'd call "a treat." Well, maybe if they were those amazing deep-fried green beans that T.G.I.Fridays sells, but when they come straight out of the can, they're just about as tasteless as their calorie count would indicate.

But I'm determined. I've lost 45 pounds...and gained back 8 of 'em. It's time to get that scale moving in the right direction, even if it means convincing my brain that green beans are a treat.

Checks and Balances

2012-01-02T23:32:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, it's just the little things that make me smile.

Like trying to balance my checkbook at almost midnight...and it came out to the cent.

Now if only there was any money left over so I could buy myself something to celebrate the achievement.

12 Months?

2012-01-01T22:52:00.001-05:00

My last blog post was in January!! That was January from a frickin' year ago. What the heck happened? Was there some sort of time warp that made me miss the last 11 months?

No...it was just the usual thing. Life got in the way. Or, to be more specific - teenagers, work, friends, and housework got in the way. Sheesh.

I used to love to blog. I made so many friends from keeping an online journal (yes, Andi, I'm talking about YOU!). So why would I slack off from something I enjoyed so much? Pure laziness. Just call me Queen Procrastinator.

A year ago, I was freshly starting a new Weight Watchers diet. To everyone's surprise (mostly mine), I stuck with it. I'm proud to say that I waddle just a little bit less when I walk nowadays. I lost 47 pounds...and gained back 8 of 'em. So here I am, new year, but same resolution. I'm back to tracking my points. Hopefully, I can get that Wii Fit Bitch to stop groaning and saying "That's Oh-beeese!" when she weighs me every morning.

I made some other small but surprising changes, too.

For the first time in my 43 years of slovenly living, I decided to start making my bed. Like, every morning. Sure, when I have a pretty girl sleeping in it, I decide to wait to make the bed until she finally wakes up for the day, but once my four-legged girlfriend finally stretches, purrs, and crawls out of bed to head for the litter box, I spend a minute or so making the bed look gorgeous. I'm at 27 days in a row. There is hope for my fellow slob-sisters everywhere!

One of the highlights of my year was having my dear friends, Michelle and Jim (and their daughter, Tessa) come to visit from Philadelphia. It was a week of lots of food, a bit of sight-seeing, a few Yu-Gi-Oh/Magic card games, and lots of "I want to see Marvin the Martian!" comments from the little one.

In the middle of the year, my work clientele practically exploded. I went from having two offices (8 doctors) to having six offices (21 doctors!). I've had to hire several more workers and things are going great. My mortgage company probably has a heart attack every month when I actually pay a couple of hundred bucks extra on the house payment.

Most surprising of all was that I gave up Facebook. The changes they made in September or so were just so damn annoying and I hated wasting my time trying to maneuver the site to read what my friends wrote. Try as I might to get friends to join Google+ (which seems to work just exactly the way Social Media should), very few would make the leap. The irony is that everyone said "I don't want to go to Google+ because nobody is there"...but nobody is there because nobody wants to go there until other people are there. Hmmph. I was recently coerced into coming back to Facebook...but just on a limited basis. Basically, I have time to make a quick post and glance to see if anyone has written anything interesting. But I refuse to jump hurdles to read posts, so basically, I'm becoming a "status updater" instead of a "commenter." I guess if my friends want me to read their updates, they'll have to post on Google+ where it is easy to read. It sucks, but I only have so much time to goof off and FB just makes it too hard to get to the good stuff.

Anyway...we're back to a new year and that means hopefully updating this old blog more than once every 12 months.

Diet Dessert Recipe

2011-01-25T21:30:00.002-05:00

I found this recipe in a fantastic cookbook (the name of which will remain anonymous so that I don't catch the attention of their lawyers). It was too good not to share:

Lemon Blueberry Cupcakes

Here's the easy-peasy recipe:
For cupcakes:
2 Cups Moist-Style Lemon Cake Mix (half of an 18.25-ounce box)
1 Cup Diet Lemon-Lime Soda (we didn't have Diet Sprite, so we used Fresca and it was just fine)
3/4 Cup Fresh Blueberries (divided)
1 Egg
1 teaspoon Baking Powder

For Frosting (and it was amazingly light and yummy!)
1 Cup Cool Whip Free - thawed
1/2 Cup Skim Milk
2 Tablespoons Lemon Sugar Free/Fat Free Dry Pudding Mix

Optional
12 additional blueberries for garnish

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Make the frosting first: combine pudding mix and skim milk in a medium mixing bowl. Using an electric mixer set to medium speed, mix for 1 to 2 minutes. Let sit for 5 minutes. Mix in the Cool Whip and refrigerate until the cupcakes are ready to be frosted.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the cake mix, soda, egg, and baking powder. Stir until blended and lump-free.

Spray a 12-cup muffin pan with nonstick spray. Evenly distribute cake mixture among the 12 sections.

Place half of the blueberries on top of the cake mixture in the cups (about 3 to 4 berries each). Bake in the oven for 8 minutes.

Remove pan from the oven and evenly distribute remaining blueberries among cups, pressing down slightly to keep the berries from rolling. Return pan to the oven and bake for an additional 7 minutes, or until cupcake edges are slightly browned.

Let cupcakes cool completely, then evenly distribute frosting among the tops. Add a blueberry to the top of each cupcake, if you like. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Makes 12 servings, each are 3 PointsPlus for Weight Watchers new program.

New Year, Old Resolutions

2011-01-01T22:24:00.000-05:00

It seems like every year, January rolls around and I say "this is the year!" My resolutions always involve my weight.

Sure enough, I started Weight Watchers again (though I'm too cheap to pay for the meetings). At first, I was just going to list everything I eat on my phone just so I could be cognizant of my intake. But, there are just so many wickedly cool Android apps for counting Weight Watcher points that I decided to go whole hog (so to speak).

Speaking of hog...when you weigh as much as I do, it's almost a daunting task to actually consume 31 freakin' points in a day. Yeah, 31. And that doesn't count any "weekly flex points" or "activity bonus points." Here it is, 10 p.m. and I'm munching on Ritz crackers just to try to hit my point level, and I still have 10 points left to blow.

I also decided that I could only use my excuse of "too much work to do" for so long before I had to accept that I deserve a little bit of fun time. So, I laced up my sneakers and did 30 minutes of Wii Fit. It's a lot of fun, but I seriously doubt that it has much benefit in exercise. It takes almost an hour just to get in the 30 minutes of countable exercise, but it's fun, so I'm gonna do it. Pictures will NOT be forthcoming as seeing me swinging my hips to imaginary hula hoops is not a pleasant sight.

I did have a pleasant surprise, though. I looked back to see what my weight was on January 1, 2010. On that date, I was 233.5 pounds. A month ago, I was down to 218. Woo hoo! Admittedly, the Christmas snacking hit me hard and I'm up another 5 pounds again at 223.5. But just realizing that I lost 15 pounds this year without trying at all (I certainly never had the time to exercise and I didn't diet at all) was amazing. The only change I made was that six months ago I bought those Skechers Shape-Ups shoes. I didn't think they'd help me lose weight, I bought them because they are comfortable. But I'm convinced that those missing 15 pounds are from the shoes. Now...I just need to stay away from the damn Christmas cookies so I can continue the downward slope.

Nookie Time

2010-10-26T20:16:00.000-04:00

I bought my B&N Nook ereader in March. That has resulted in a couple of changes in my life:

I no longer read magazines in the bathroom.
I no longer buy books (Nook lets me download ebooks from the library).
My TiVo queue has grown quite extensive as I prefer reading to watching TV.
I don't mind standing in line at the grocery store at all...it just means I get to read a page or two in my book.

But being the gadget guru, I'm always looking for the newest/best gadget out there.

After months of anticipation, Barnes and Noble finally announced the new version of their Nook ereader today.

Rumors were that it was going to be everything I wanted:

7 inches (instead of the 6 of the original Nook)
Full color e-ink screen (instead of original black & white e-ink)
Portrait or landscape mode (instead of just portrait)
Full screen touchscreen (instead of just the 1-inch strip at the bottom)

Well, it didn't matter that my Nook was functioning perfectly well. I knew I had to have it. I planned to drive to Akron to pick it up as soon as it was available.

Today, they presented the new Nook Color. What was announced was everything in the rumors...except...it is an LCD screen instead of color e-ink.

Nobody who has ever read on an e-ink screen will ever read books on an LCD screen. First, you can't even see the screen if the sun is out. Second, LCD screens flicker hundreds of times a minute...you just don't notice it, but your eyes do. That's why computer work gives folks headaches.

Here's a microscope view of an LCD screen versus an e-ink screen:

Here's a magnified view of an iPad LCD screen

And here it is on an e-ink screen

Plus, you can't read a book out in the sun on an LCD screen. Go ahead, look at your camera or cell phone and try reading when the son is glaring on the screen. On e-ink displays...no problem.

So, the bad news is that Nook Color is LCD.
But the good news is that since it is LCD instead of e-ink, I save $250.

So, no new Nookie for me. I'd like to have color, but since I mostly read novels, black and white is just fine. I will miss having the landscape orientation, though. Sometimes, it's just nicer having the display wider than it is long.

Purple Power

2010-10-20T20:33:00.000-04:00

Those folks on Facebook are always coming up with new ways to get a bunch of people to do something as a group.

We've had the "bra color for breast cancer" thing where you are only supposed to post what color your bra is (without any explanation other than posting the name of the color) and similarly the "purse placement" where you list the place in your house that you keep your purse (both of which I managed to be as sexual as possible by answering "nude" to the first one and "well, I don't like big ones, so I usually just go without" to the latter).

Today was "Wear Purple Against Homophobia." With all the lesbians I know, I'm surprised there weren't any "purple-people-eater" comments, but maybe I'm the only one with that sick of a mind.

All four of my family members wore purple, but what surprised me was how many of my friends - married, single, gay, straight, young, and old - did the purple thing, too. I have amazing friends!

Twilight Dreams

2010-10-18T23:05:00.000-04:00

Two years ago, mom offered to make me a quilt. All I had to do was pick a pattern and chose some colors and she’d do the hard stuff. Am I lucky, or what?

What I didn’t realize was how hard it would be to find a pattern I liked. I’m not a “traditional quilt” kind of girl and the concept of “scrap quilting” drives my brain bonkers. I like things neat and organized and orderly (and for those of you who have seen my housekeeping abilities…hush!).

I scoured mountains of quilting magazines and books, and then I found the one I wanted. It had the rather boring name of “Strips and Strings” or something like that. But I fell in love with the picture. It’s basically just a quilt that starts off in ivory/pale lavender and radiates darker towards the edges.

So, Mom started gathering material in varying shades of purple.

This is the center of the quilt.

See all those strips?

They become the individual blocks of the quilt. I watched my mom make this thing from start to finish and I STILL can’t figure out how she could take a bunch of solid pieces of material and create this masterpiece. She’s a quilting genius, I tell ya!

A few more of the darker strips going on the quilt.

The top is done!

Since the only place big enough to pin together a queen-size quilt is the middle of our living room floor…down Mom goes to her hands and knees. It’s awfully nice that Harmony and Melody are there to help.

And of course, Harmony wants to help hand-sew the binding on the quilt, too. (Melody’s there, too, but you can’t see her because she’s our “tunneling” cat and she’s buried herself under the quilt by Mom’s feet.)

And here it is…Twilight Dreams.

Gorgeous doesn’t begin to describe it. It’s ALMOST worth cleaning my room and making my bed occasionally just so I can admire it.

Covering my Assets

2010-04-02T18:49:00.002-04:00

Last week, I finally bought my Barnes and Noble Nook eReader. I was thrilled, but it didn't take long for me to realize that without a cover of some sort, it was just not practical to take anywhere.

I searched the Internet and found a few nice covers. Then I went to www.oberondesign.com and my search ended. They have custom-made journals and eReader covers in about 20 different designs. The first one I saw was called "Tree of Life" and I fell in love. I balked at the price, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. I showed Mom, fully realizing that she thought the Nook was a waste of money and she'd talk me out of spending even more moolah on a cover. Nope. She took one look and said "It's gorgeous! Happy birthday!" I ordered it that night.

Since they are custom made and they wouldn't receive the order until Monday, they said to expect the cover to ship between 14 to 21 days after ordering. So...I still had the Nook that couldn't really be carried anywhere because the screens would get damaged floating around in my purse. Mom to the rescue. She's a whiz with the sewing machine, so I asked if she could make some sort of sleeve for it. As usual, she took a rough idea and made something perfect. Not only did she let me pick the fabric, but she quilted it with a cushioning layer of batting and even took the tattered cover off of an old junk book to reinforce the front of the cover so nothing could poke the screen. She rocks.

The day after she made the cover, I got the email saying "it's been shipped!" Yeah...a mere 4 days after ordering, the item was already in transit. I received it today.

The front cover is gorgeous. They created a custom pewter button to hold the cover closed (and even sent a matching charm for free). The leather is incredibly thick and they even say there is no problem with folding it completely back - something I'd never do for fear of it cracking if they hadn't assured me it was okay.

This is one of their "wrap-around" designs which makes it just as gorgeous on the back as the front.

The Nook looks like it is barely being held in place, but Oberon has a video showing their "shake test" and trust me, it's secure.

I feel bad that Mom went to all of the work to make me a sleeve that I only used for one day. She's already been hired (for the price of "eternal love and back scratches") by Beth to make a netbook cover because Beth was so impressed.

Gonna Have Nookie in Bed Tonight!

2010-03-27T13:42:00.001-04:00

Given my severe lack of anything resembling a sex life, there are only three things that give me pleasure these days (kids notwithstanding):
1. Books.
2. Technology.
3. Food.

So, of course, when the eBook readers came out, I started looking at them. They were ridiculously expensive, too large to slip in a pocket, and the books were overpriced (between $10 and $20 no matter how long the books were available as cheap paperbacks).

I decided to go ahead and just use my cell phone as an eBook reader. Cool. It covers #1 (Books) and #2 (Technology) perfectly. Sit there reading a story while munching on a bag of Fritos and I hit the trifecta!

I've been happy...except for the cost of the books, of course.

But then, I discovered that Ohio's public libraries offer free eBook loans. Woo hoo!! About 10% of their selection are available as .mobi books (which you can put on any smartphone). Yay!! But it didn't take me long to realize that most of the books I really wanted to read were in ePub format, which would require reading on my computer (not gonna happen) or purchasing either a Sony Reader or a Barnes and Noble Nook reader. After checking them out, the Sony Readers are really junkie. The Nook is awesome, but overpriced ($258).

So the devil on my shoulder sat there whispering in my ear. "You know, you read a book every two weeks or so. Since these books are free, that savings over buying $10 books every two weeks would pay for that Nook reader." I never gave the angel on my other shoulder time to talk sense into me.

I drove up to Akron yesterday and bought it. It's amazing!! It does the eBooks and periodicals, of course, but it also displays my pictures, plays music and best of all, plays audiobooks. It's still a little large for me, (about the height and weight of a paperback, but much thinner) but I'll get used to it.

Here's a shot of King's Under the Dome on my cell phone and as a hardcover. Since I've already read it, I pulled up a different story (James Patterson) on the Nook for comparison.

The Nook is perfectly viewable no matter how bright the sun is shining on it which is awesome and that's one of the problems I've had with my cell phone. It doesn't have a backlight which is a bummer, but I can always clip a light onto the Nook.

So tonight, I'm gonna enjoy some Nookie in bed!

I just found the most amazing leather cover for it online...more about that another day.

Grandpuppies are Priceless

2010-03-18T11:12:00.000-04:00

Back in September, my dad called. I couldn't quite figure out what he was saying, because he was only able to utter a few words mixed in with gut-wrenching sobs. I finally understood what he was saying "Camshaft broke her leg and the vet says she has to be put down."

Cammie, an 8-year-old very overweight lab is my dad's life. This dog (his grandpuppy) is more important to him than anything. When the vet said they couldn't help her, he just couldn't accept that. They sedated her and the next morning we took her to a specialty animal hospital. They took better x-rays and determined that the break happened the length of her leg bone, rather than breaking it in half down the middle.

The vet agreed that with damage like this, it is definitely a case for putting her to sleep. But...with enough money, yes, they could fix her. Did I mention that Cammie is Dad's life?? They gave an estimate of $3,100 to place internal screws and rods and straps in addition to having two "external fixators" that would give extra support.

The problem was that the break was unusual (she was just standing up from a sitting position when it just snapped) in presentation and it usually happens from bone cancer, which is prevalent in her breed. They wouldn't know if she had osteosarcoma until they got the path reports back...two weeks after the surgery.

Dad readily whipped out his checkbook. She underwent surgery immediately and we went back in the next morning to pick her up.

It amazed me that she was able to walk (and was happy!) just hours after surgery. That Fentanyl patch they slapped on her was a miracle! The best news was that the surgeon saw no evidence of cancer. Woo hoo! The bad news was that the $3,100 estimate somehow went to $4,000. But oh well. When you see the picture of Cammie as she looks with adoring eyes at her Grandpa, it was worth it.

Two weeks later, she went in for a re-check. Bad news. The path report said that it was probable osteosarcoma. We were looking at a two- to three-month lifespan. It was just devastating. Dad said "then she'll have the best three months of her life."

We had to keep going back to the doctor every two weeks or so for x-rays. (Which were not included in the price quote. Hmmph.) She was able to hobble around fine, but she wasn't allowed to do any stairs. So how exactly are we supposed to carry a 120-pound dog? My dad always says "Where there's a Wood, there's a way." He attached a ramp to his house and made a portable ramp to get her in and out of his van (that has the license plate "CAMSHAF" because he bought the vehicle just for the dog!) and even transfer her from one van to the other.

So, she was very happy and obviously nobody ever told Cammie that she only had three months to live. Apparently they never told her she has cancer, either. Because it's been six months, she just had her final vet visit and he said "she's a miracle. There are no signs of tumors, she doesn't have cancer. Let's get this fixator taken off of her so she can be happy."

And she is.

Oh, and final tally - nearly $6,000. Worth every penny.

She's Driving Me Crazy

2010-03-04T18:15:00.000-05:00

Bugs scare me. Climbing more than 5 rungs on a ladder sends shivers down my spine. Getting a letter from the IRS could make me wet my pants.

But none of those is more terrifying than teaching my 16-year-old to drive. Wait...that's a bit of a misnomer. I'm not teaching her anything. I'm sitting beside her in a 4,000-pound lethal weapon white-knuckling my grip on the oh-shit handle while stomping on the imaginary brakes while screaming "look out! Too close!! AHHH!" while she calmly rolls her eyes and keeps muttering "you've gotta trust me sometime..."

When I say I'm terrified teaching Heather to drive, it's not an exaggeration. She's had her permit for a year and has only been driving probably 10 times in that timeframe, all because I'm too scared to take her.

I just saw that Honda has a driving simulator. You know...like they have for pilots, but this is intended for cars. Why haven't they been doing this for new drivers for years? Instead, they just let kids get behind the wheel and give their parents heart attacks.

I think insurance companies should pay the $66,000 and put one of these in every town. Let kids learn to drive before they actually start driving. And save me from needing a heart transplant.

Meanwhile, Heather just set up her appointment to finally have her first in-car driving lesson with the instructor at Frenzel's. I hope they take their heart medication.

Another year older, another year wiser...

2010-03-02T23:05:00.000-05:00

So, yeah. It's been a whole year since I've blogged. Did ya miss me?

I miss blogging. Facebook is fun, but there's only so much info I can give in a quick little update. I miss telling the story of my life, rather than just posting a snippet.

So, I'm back. I hope you are, too.

Stupid Cupid! Quit Ignoring Me!

2009-02-15T01:28:00.004-05:00

It's Valentine's Day, blah, blah, blah.

Since the cute little diaper-wearing, arrow-shooting midget apparently can't see the bullseye I painted on my tush, it's yet another year where I spend my day at my desk rather than in the arms of some cutie.

My daughters have been a tad more fortunate in love.

Beth drove to Bolivar so she could (ahem) "watch the sunset" with Captain Hormone. Yeah, I know. When you go to the Bolivar Dam to "watch the sunset," the chances are that you'll miss the heavenly splendor of the sky because the car windows are gonna be too fogged up with teenage hormones to be able to see anything.

Later, he made reservations to eat at Georgio's Grille. Since their dates usually consist of him coming to our house and sitting on the couch watching movies every Saturday, this date was a pretty big thing and Beth was just ecstatic. Unfortunately, she didn't think to hand her camera to anyone so I could have a picture of the two lovebirds together.

I got a text message from her shortly after she finished eating and said she had the steak and salad and they shared crabcakes as an appetizer. In her words, it was "foodgasmic!"

To which I replied "Yay!! If you had a foodgasm, that meant that there was no need for a real orgasm. That makes Mom a very happy camper!" Still...I counted the condoms to see if any were missing. He IS an 18-year-old horndog, after all.

Heather also got to spend some time with her boyfriend. I drove her to Canton so she could meet up with him at Borders Bookstore.

Yes, that is a kilt. If you knew Paul, you'd never be shocked. It's just him.

They went to see the movie Coraline in 3D. It totally messed with Heather's head...which is her way of saying it totally rocked. Dinner was McDonald's, which was exactly what Heather wanted. She wore a formal dress. No, I'm not kidding. Yes, she knew she was going to fast food. THAT's why she wanted to wear a formal gown. Only normal people wear jeans and a t-shirt to Mickey-D's. She's far from normal.

The date finished with a few ankle-thrashing hours spent at an indoor ice skating rink.

Oh, and in case you are wondering the answer to the question that goes through everyone's minds when seeing a guy in a kilt...

Nice girls ask.

Naughty girls find out for themselves.

Spending Spree...The grand finale

2009-02-10T22:15:00.001-05:00

My last of the grand purchases arrived yesterday.

Say hello to my new best friend: Tivo.

Wait a minute...surely I've mentioned my love affair with Tivo before, right? Oh yeah. The little guy entered my life in 2003, several years before cable companies decided to rent out their inferior generic DVR models (from what I hear, the difference between Tivo and the cable company's generic DVR is like the difference between a Prime Rib and a Big Mac. Sure, they'll both feed you, but if you want to enjoy the process, go for the good stuff).

Well, a few months ago when I bought the spiffy new flat screen HD TV for the family room, I just knew I was gonna spring for the newest TiVo model to go along with it, because the other four (yeah, four!) TiVo boxes I have don't do High Def TV.

My brand-spankin new Tivo HD XL arrived yesterday in all of it's Bloop-bloop-bloop glory. The fact that it records in HD is just one of the big features.

Heather is in Heaven because now she can watch YouTube videos from the couch.

What was first on the Tivo Queue? "Candy Mountain."

If you're not a teenager, you just won't understand. Unicorns, dinosaurs, and kidney-stealing Sesame Street letters with legs. I recommend you empty a couple of glasses of alcohol before watching.

Plus, you can download your Netflix Queue movies directly to the Tivo and play them on the TV. Yeah baby!! Start popping the corn, I know where I'm gonna be this weekend! Wii Fit be damned, I wanna turn into a couch potato!

But the best thing about the new Tivo HD XL is the recording capactiy.
Here's a screen shot of the Tivo that's currently residing in my office:\

It says at "basic quality" you can record up to 79 hours of TV. You'd think that was a lot, but considering how many days (or even weeks) go by before I get a chance to watch TV, you'd be amazed at how fast that thing fills up, especially since we do "high quality" for most recordings.

But the new box has a slightly higher capacity.

Yeah, that says it will hold 1,367 hours (compared with 79). You know what that means...Scrubs Marathon!!

Oh crap. I've gotta work. The couch potato marathon will just have to wait for the weekend.

Spending Spree...Condensed Version

2009-02-10T19:00:00.003-05:00

Yeah, yeah. I know. I've skipped all of the entries of my big spending spree. Here's the quick and dirty lowdown:

Part One: Bought Stephen King's Six Stories limited edition book on eBay. I wept with joy. But not until I put the book away, 'cause you just don't wanna get tears on a $1,000 book.

Part Two: New fancy schmantzy coffee table that lifts up and is ever so cool. I've used Pledge on it five times already. Considering my significant lack of domestic abilities (not to mention inclination), that's about a year's worth of dusting this week.

Part Three: New bed. Since my old headboard was a "Queen/Full" size but my mattress was a "Full," that meant my nightstand would stick out about six inches from the edge of my bed. Trust me when I tell you that I'm not the kind of girl looking for an extra six inches in my bed. 'Nuff said.

Part Four: Back to eBay for more books. I only need three more of Stephen King's books for my collection to be completely first editions. Naturally, they're the expensive ones. I find a guy who has 'Salem's Lot. He accepted my offer. Woo Hoo!! Unfortunately, the other two books that I'm missing are Night Shift (which runs about $800 for a first edition) and Carrie (King's first book, which is also in the $700 to $900 range). Way out of my league. I'll just have to be happy with my collection missing those two.

Part Five: ...Until I check the other auctions that the guy has. There it is, "Night Shift." He wanted $488 (which is a heck of a steal) and I offer $350. He takes it. Woo hoo!!!!

Part Six: And while I had been bidding on a beat-up copy of Carrie, someone came in and outbid me with only five minutes left. Well, I couldn't let THAT happen, so I upped my bid and emptied my wallet and now, I officially have a "Complete" collection of Stephen King first editions. Of course, I won't actually read these books. That's what paperbacks are for. Oh hush! You just have to humor me. I'm so happy!

Part Seven: Stay tuned...(pun definitely intended!)

Spending Spree...Part Two

2009-02-05T20:48:00.003-05:00

Another day, another dollar (or more).

Today's big acquisition was some furniture I picked up from a store in Canton. After redoing the living room, we decided the coffee table belonged in there, which meant it was time to buy a new one.

I knew exactly what I wanted. Unfortunately, "exactly what I wanted" just wasn't to be found around here. When I'd locate something I liked, they'd tell me it would take 6 to 8 weeks until it would arrive. Ummm, no. I'm part of the "I Want It NOW" generation, so that wasn't gonna happen.

Last weekend, I took Beth and her friend, Jordanne, to Canton so they could hit Jordanne's favorite store (a health-food store called The Raisin Rack) and Beth could hit her favorite store (Border's Books, of course). Meanwhile, Mom and I trekked our butts all over town. We went to cheapie stores like Big Lots Furniture, Value City Furniture, and nice places like Arhaus. Finally, we were down to the last place we could think of. It's an east coast furniture chain called Levin's Furniture. I'd seen their ads on TV and just presumed that they only sold junkie stuff.

We walked in and were blown away. The selection was amazing and everything seemed like decent quality. Their prices were cheaper than most of the "cheap" stores, too!

Within a minute of walking through the door, we had a salesman offering to help. That's always a good sign. I told him what I wanted and he smiled and said, "of course!"

There it was. The exact table I'd been searching for was sitting in the showroom. AND it was $100 less than the others I'd seen. Best of all, he would have it within a week.

Today was the arrival day, so Mom and I headed back to Canton. That, of course, meant we'd have to start out with lunch. Today we did the Quaker Steak And Lube restaurant. Everything was themed from a mechanic's point of view. Pretty cool.

Then, to Levin's. While their store is absolutely awesome, their loading deck is not. We've had snow and ice and as I'm walking down to ring the service bell, one leg goes forward and one leg goes back and splat! My fat ass is cracking the cement (or at least it felt like it). My knee is still throbbing. With all the money people pay for their furniture, you'd think they could find $20 to put down some salt, wouldn't you?

Fortunately, we had borrowed Dad's truck to bring the stuff home (did I mention that the coffee table isn't the only thing I bought? Oh, yeah, that'll be discussed in tomorrow's post) because the back of the truck was filled to the point where we had to tie stuff down so it wouldn't slide out. And the stupid salesman assured me that I'd have no trouble fitting it in my minivan. Idiot!

Heather helped me put the coffee table together. She was a tad irritated that I insisted on explaining the difference between a locking washer and a flat washer, but hey, she needs to know these things, so she was forced to listen.

The table is gorgeous. It matches the cherry wainscoting (which you can't see in this picture because of the couch) and cherry woodwork. See the little drawer down at the bottom? Perfect for our abundance of remote controls.

But the best part, and the thing that I REALLY wanted in the coffee table was the ability to use it as a laptop desk. The top lifts up and comes toward you as you sit on the couch.

How cool is that?

Oh, apparently Melody and Harmony like it, too.

Finally Back Home

2009-02-03T22:10:00.002-05:00

So Many Blogalicious Moments...So Little Time

I'm behind on my blogging, thanks to work.

I'm not, however, behind on my eBay scavenging. I've been a busy little bidder.

It all started with the previously-mentioned redecorating of the living room. Since Heather volunteered to put back all of my Stephen King books into the bookcase, I printed out the chronological list of King titles. Yeah, I'm anal when it comes to my books. Paperbacks go in alphabetical order based on author's last name, then by title. King hardcover books (which takes up way more than one double bookcase) go in chronological order. Which isn't as easy as it sounds, thanks to the rather prolific spewing from Stevie-baby's typewriter. Some years he published two or even three books, so you can't just go by the copyright page.

I printed the list of all of his books and Heather diligently placed them in the proper order. After placing the Green Mile on the shelf, she saw that "Six Stories" was next on the list. Beside that title, I had drawn a little frown face because this was a signed, limited edition book I bought back in 1999 for $135 (original price was $85 the previous year), but after money got really tight, I chose to sell it in order to pay some bills. I made a nice profit because it ended up being sold to some guy in Italy for $600. But still...every time I looked at that bookcase, I knew it was missing something.

After Heather finished putting the books back in their proper home, she came to me and said that she wanted me to take all of the rest of her Christmas money (about $35, I think) and use it to bid on a copy of Six Stories that she had found on eBay.

I smiled at her and said it just wasn't possible to get it. First of all, the copy she found was $800, and secondly, that was just the bidding price, not the final price. It could go way up. She understood.

But, of course, that book just sat there digging at the foggy corner of my brain saying "c'mon, DiAnne! You've been working hard. You deserve this!"

The sensible side of my brain rightfully took one look at the auction online and said emphatically, "NO!!" I'm happy to say I did not buy that book.

I bought a different one instead. :)

Yeah, I kept checking auctions and all of a sudden one came up with a "Buy It Now" price of $550 with free shipping AND it had the special hard traycase that was a $200 special order after the book was published. Hell, that meant that the whole thing cost less than what I had sold it for a few years ago. Most of the time, the book with the traycase sells for about $1,000. I had to buy it, right? Hell yeah!

It arrived a few days ago. Every time I walk by my bookcase, I smile. It's complete, again.

I've taught my kids well. If you don't blow your money on cigarettes, booze, and gambling, you can buy $1,000 books at bargain prices. Woo hoo!!

Here's Beth peering ever so carefully at the signature page.

Her boyfriend, whom I not-so-affectionately call "Captain Hormone" took one look at the book and said, "Why'd you pay that much for a book you can't even read?" And Beth questions why I say that he's totally wrong for her. Hmmph!!

We've Got a New Room!

2009-01-25T23:07:00.002-05:00

Sure. I could have spent the weekend typing, as usual.

I could have wiggled my hips to Wii Fit's imaginary hula hoops.

I could have even sat on the couch munching potato chips and root beer all weekend.

Nope. I got a burr up my butt and decided I had to spend the weekend painting the living room walls.

Of course, the first step would be moving the huge bookcases out of the room.

It literally took all frickin' night on Friday just to move one of them (which found a new home in my office). Saturday morning, I tackled the other bookcase, then moved all the furniture to the foyer and dining room.

Once I got started painting, though...

Oh, it was heaven.

I listened to Diana Gabaldon's The Fiery Cross on audiobook while Mom and I transformed the room from a mismatched, unorganized eyesore to a gorgeous room, thanks to $25 of paint. The room started off as pale robin's egg blue and is now a deep grayish teal. I discovered that the flash on the camera seemed to distort the color in some of the pictures.

Knowing that I was gonna get my butt kicked by Andi if I didn't blog about this, you'd think that I would have the foresight to take "before" pictures, but alas, my mind can only concentrate on one thing at a time. Where's the Ritalin when you need it?

So, here's the "after." Feel free to "ooh" and "ahhh" to your heart's content.

This first picture is about the most realistic one as far as what color and hue the walls look like now. The other pictures are all either too blue or too light.

This is my beloved "Stephen King bookcase." It represents years of terror and night sweats and so many goosebump-riddled memories.

The dining room is probably next on our painting to-do list. It's walls are the same baby blue that the living room used to have.

The couch has become Harmony's and Melody's new favorite spot to be. There's already a lovely patch of Harmony fur on the upper corner of the couch.

Speak of the devil, there she is!

OK, so I'm dead tired and now I still have to finish a LONG file for Dr. M. AND I ran out of vanilla syrup for my coffee. Drat.

Cheapest Bikini Wax Available

2009-01-16T22:58:00.003-05:00

What happens when you combine a big kitchen window
With a sweet fluffy kitten
When the temperature is 7 degrees below zero?

When it is that cold outside, even the inside of the window gets little ice crystals on it, as poor little Melody found out the hard way.

Yes. Sweet Melody literally froze to the frost on the window. Yeeowwwsh!!

'Tis Better to Give Than to Receive

2009-01-15T23:07:00.004-05:00

DISCLAIMER:
Consider yourself warned. This post represents DiAnne at her nastiest. If you want to maintain the false image of "Sweet DiAnne," you know where the "close window" button is. Oh wait...if you're reading this blog, that means you already know the "True DiAnne" and the aforementioned warning is not needed. Carry on.

Christmas is always a pretty laid back affair at our house. The kids open their gifts and we have breakfast, but that's about the extent of the plans. We take things pretty easy and that's the way we like it.

I'd have to say there is only one thing about Christmas that consistently pisses me off. Every year, I invite my brother and my father over for the opening of the gifts. They never really have any other plans, and if they are in town, they usually show up.

Unfortunately, Dad always feels the need to bring his girlfriend over. In the past, I always tried to be nice. Sure, I didn't like her and I'm sure the feeling was mutual, but I respected my dad's choice. As the years went on, though, "nice" turned to "cordial" which has now degenerated to "bare tolerability."

While she has never been "invited" for Christmas morning, a few times Dad pretty much insisted that she be there by saying "if she doesn't come, I'm not coming." I know his flawed reasoning is that he's just trying to make sure that everyone is happy. In actuality, of course, he makes his girlfriend miserable and he makes his daughter miserable. The only one he makes happy is his ex-wife because my mom takes great pleasure in pointing out (albeit privately to me) some of the ridiculous things she does and says.

It has become tradition for her to give me a small gift, as I do for her. This year, knowing that she had Dad run to Walmart on the day the new AC/DC album (okay, kids, that's what they were called when I was young. But fine, it was the new AC/DC "CD") was released, I found a hat for her which was pretty cool. It wasn't very expensive, but I felt it was something she would like.

In return, she gave me a candle.

Sure, the lid was a little dusty because it probably sat around for awhile, but hey, that's nothing that a quick wipe with a tissue won't fix.

In looking at this picture, I know what you're thinking...well, DiAnne must have liked the candle enough to light it. Umm, no. That's the way it was when I unwrapped it.

It also came with the fuzzy dead bug sitting next to the wick.

Oh, and what is the intricate design on the inside of the lid? Well, I do believe that would be dried fly feces decorating the cap.

Yeah. Really.

So, after having my daughters write their thank you notes to Dad and his girlfriend, I thought it might be really comical to send her one and tell her how much I absolutely adore the candle and I'd request that she tell me which store she purchased it from so I could run out and get another one.

But alas, my snarkiness doesn't extend to that degree of rudeness.

Convenient Alzheimer's

2009-01-08T10:01:00.002-05:00

For Christmas, among the other things I bought for those I love, I ordered a new laptop for Beth. It was perfect. The color is "plum" and it has all these cool features - web cam, fingerprint reader, etc. How awesome is that?

Since I ordered it from Dell, I was a tad concerned that I wouldn't be able to keep it a secret, especially since her school was closed for two weeks before Christmas and I wasn't sure exactly when FedEx would show up at my door. Fortunately, they have a tracking system online and after checking it repeatedly, I had it pinpointed that it was arriving the next day. Through some clever scheduling, Beth walked out of the house a mere ten minutes before FedEx showed up. Woo hoo!!

My plan had always been to have everything loaded on the laptop so it was ready to go on Christmas. I was going to have the wallpaper say "Merry Christmas, Beth!!" and have it sitting at the table waiting for her to discover after she opened all of her other Christmas gifts. I couldn't wait to see the surprised look on her face.

But alas, it was MY face that was surprised.

I took the machine out of the box and plugged her in. The touchpad didn't work, but I figured that was because it hadn't really loaded up yet. I plugged in a USB mouse and was able to get the initial setup started. Five minutes later, the mouse stopped working. Do you know how hard it is to work a computer with just a keyboard? Finally I just restarted the thing, because that solves all problems.

Nope. Same thing. No touchpad. Mouse worked for a few minutes and then croaked. Keyboard worked for a bit and then bit the dust.

Instead of setting up her computer, I spent two hours on the Internet trying to solve the problem. Among the things they had me do was to "reinstall Windows." Unfortunately, the computer froze midway through the reinstallation. Now, all that would happen is that it would go through a vicious damn cycle of starting up, showing error message, shutting itself down, starting up..."

At that point, I got to talk to an actual live person all the way from New Delhi. Two hours on the phone later, I finally said "STOP!! I've been messing with this piece of crap for 5 hours now. It's time to give up and send me a new one." He agreed. First, they had to send someone over to put in a new touchpad and a new hard drive. Yeah, like that's gonna fix it.

The worst part about someone coming to the house to fix it was that I couldn't get Beth out of the house again. So, a week before Christmas, the secret was blown. "Surprise!!" And she, of course, was blown away.

The repairman came and left and the computer was still trashed. I called Dell and they ordered a new one right away. It shipped, ironically enough, the day AFTER Christmas. So much for her Christmas gift.

Once it did arrive, though, it was perfect. I think her fingers have been glued to the keyboard nonstop since we opened the package. She's gonna be the first teenager on record to have carpal tunnel syndrome.

When it came time to return the trashed computer, my devious brother suggested that I forget to return the battery. Well, I think they would notice. However, after having the Christmas surprise ruined, I decided that would be worth having an extra AC adapter, right?

My "selective Alzheimer's" kicked in and I conveniently "forgot" to put the AC plug in the package, even though there was a convenient empty spot in the box for it. I'm hoping they don't notice. For now, she has a plug that is wired behind her desk and she has one that she can take with her when she needs it.

I'll Have the Pancakes With a Side of Tissues

2009-01-06T21:40:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, Mom and Beth accompanied me on my trek to Canton to buy a new computer monitor (so that I can return it tomorrow with Dad so he won't be wise to the fact that I can't return the original one I bought him a few months ago).

Of course, no shopping trip is complete without going out to eat for lunch. Our favorite place lately seems to be IHOP because they have scrumptious breakfasts all day.

As we sat down, Beth asked her grandma to explain a comment she had made earlier in the day where she said "I ran for you once."

Mom starts off by saying, "Well, for years and years, I couldn't even talk about this without crying, but..."

And that's as far as she got. She turned into a weeping, laughing, blubbering mess. The more she laughed about crying, the more the tears flowed.

Meanwhile, Beth and I are laughing at Mom's apparent inability to stop crying due to the retelling of a distant memory. Then, I started to cry just watching Mom cry.

So, what caused the sudden Weep-fest?

Mom was trying to tell Beth the story about how when Beth was two weeks old, I had to call her at work to tell her that Beth (who was a teeny preemie at the time) had suddenly taken a turn for the worse and they were rushing her from Aultman Hospital up to Akron Children's Hospital for immediate surgery.

Apparently, Mom answered the phone near her station at work (she was a basketmaker for Longaberger Baskets) and I could barely talk at the time because I was crying so hard. I finally explained the pertinent info and Mom hung up the phone and looked at her supervisor and said, "BYE!" and took off running. (Thus, the "I ran for you" topic of this story.) She didn't clean up her work station, she didn't say what was wrong, she just ran to the car. By the time she made it, she could barely breathe.

Then, she had to get to the hospital. She said she made the 20-minute trip in less than 10 minutes and was actually HOPING to get stopped by a cop so she could get a police escort. God help any officer who wouldn't escort her, I think she would have run him over at that point.

In the end, obviously everything turned out fine. But even knowing that the story had a happy ending couldn't stop the tears.

When we left the restaurant, the waitress finally came up to me and asked if everything was okay because she couldn't tell if we were laughing or crying. That would be both.

I'm Being Monitored

2009-01-04T19:49:00.002-05:00

I knew exactly what I wanted to get my dad for Christmas. While he's not a technophobe, he's not exactly on the cutting edge of technology when it comes to his computer, either. It was about 8 years ago that he bought his first computer and it came with a 15-inch CRT monitor. He's used that thing ever since.

Since his eyesight isn't the greatest, he has his computer resolution set as low as possible so he can have BIG enough words that he can see. Reading a web-based newspaper article on his computer can wear you out from all the left and right scrolling.

So, I ask my brother if he'd like to get him a new monitor. Dad's computer desk has a hutch with a small spot for the monitor. I debated buying a 19-inch LCD or going up to the 22-inch LCD. I finally opted for the bigger one because Dad's handy and he can make anything work. Sure, he'd have to cut into the hutch and probably install some brackets since the monitor was too large for the current space, but that's okay. He'd finally be able to see.

Later, when we discussed it, Brian said "just give him the smaller one, that way he doesn't have to mess with it." Hmmm. That made sense. After all, the 19-inch was still significantly bigger than what he had previously. Okay.

I still had the receipt and the monitor was still packed up and ready to go. I planned to take it back to Sam's Club during my next trip there so we could exchange it.

Then, the hamster wheel in my head started to turn. I went to Mom and suggested that she take the new 22-inch one and we give Dad hers. Now, that sounds awful, I know, but Mom had just bought hers a few months ago. We still had the box, and they were both just fine. It would save me a trip and it would get Mom a bigger monitor, which she could really use now that she was working on her computer for 8 hours a day sometimes.

We did the old switcheroo and everyone was happy.

Then Dad got it home and said, "it's so small!" What?? How can that be? His old smaller monitor practically filled the space. That's when he reminded me that he had speakers and a huge surge protector jammed in beside it. Oh. So, he wondered how much it would cost to return this one and get a bigger one. Crap.

Well, hell. I decided to just bite the bullet and I'll buy him the bigger one and I'll keep this 19-inch. Which is what I did. He's thrilled with the new 22-inch job and says it fits like a glove and looks like it was made just for the spot.

He just called and asked if he could take me out to eat this weekend up in Canton...that way we could return the 19-inch monitor. Oh, crappety crap!! He asked if I still have the receipt. Yepper, it's just, ummm, like several months old, and now it is too late to return it, but HE doesn't need to know that.

It'll be interesting what happens when I get to the Returns Desk with Dad and they say "you can't return this!"

Decisions, Decisions

2009-01-03T20:18:00.002-05:00

For the past four years, I've been struggling with finding enough transcription work to keep afloat. The sudden proliferation of electronic medical records (where the doctor clicks things on a computer screen instead of dictating into a recorder to be transcribed for the patient chart) has been the demise of my career choice. I've lost my last 6 or 7 clients for this reason.

It got so bad last year that I finally tried to find an in-office job, and was blisteringly unsuccessful in my attempts. I was borrowing money to pay bills and living on credit cards to some extent.

Finally, at Thanksgiving a year ago, I was hired by a Florida transcription company. There was plenty of work, but boy did my pay-rate go down. I went from charging 11 to 12 cents per line to receiving only 7 cents per line. I had a 1,000-line-per-day quota and it took me a good 10 hours to reach. For all you math whizzes out there, that equals $7 an hour with no benefits and I still had self-employment taxes to pay. It was not fun. But, it was steady work and I slowly caught up on my debts.

But then in June I got was called back to work a previous client, Dr. M and Dr. S. They are the best ever. The work is fairly easy, Dr. M makes it fun (when he burps, he's been known to blame it on the patient who is standing there in front of him aghast), and best of all, I'm back to making about $30 an hour.

On top of that, I started working for a friend who runs a mental health agency out of state. I'm only their "back-up transcriptionist" but it's pretty steady work and I'm so happy.

The problem is that my butt seems to be superglued to my desk chair. I wake up in the morning and go to work and stay here until I'm too tired to finish anymore and then go off to bed. My TiVo queue is filled with a dozen Desperate Housewives episodes that I've yet to have time to watch. Netflix copies of Boston Legal have been sitting here for three months waiting for time to spare so I can see what's happening with my two favorite whiskey-sipping flamingoes.

Last week, when Dr. P's office called and said they saved my resume from last year and they were hoping I could do their Canton office's work (3 doctors, but only one per day), I said yes before the hamster wheel in my head started to even spin. What was I thinking? When, exactly, did I think I would have time to take on another nearly full-time account by myself??

Fortunately, I had the forethought to explain that I would have to wait until the weekend to begin their work. That was fine with them. They were just happy for the help.

All week, I've had butterflies flittering around in my tummy at the mere thought of starting this account.

Finally, I made the executive decision...what good is earning another couple of hundred dollars every week if I don't have time to spend it? Now that we have the money coming in so I can buy the big-screen TV, I want to be able to sit down on the weekends and watch a movie with the beasties (but I get to pick the movie, those freaks are into gruesome horror flicks. eewww).

So, Monday when I should be turning in a week's worth of work, I'm actually going to be calling to apologize and admit that I can't take on the account after all. I feel like a real schmuck for this, but I know it is the right decision.

Was This Tragedy Preventable?

2009-01-02T23:03:00.003-05:00

I just read that John Travolta's 16-year-old son, Jett, died today. Apparently he had a seizure and hit his head on the bathtub.

My gut just wrenches at the thought of losing a child. Do you ever really understand that kind of loss until it happens? No.

Compassion for their grief aside, I have to wonder, as do so many others, whether Travolta's (and his wife, Kelly Preston's) religious beliefs have inadvertently contributed to this incident.

They are both Scientologists. While I don't claim to have a vast amount of knowledge in this particular religion (or any other, for that matter), a small handful of celebrities have brought some of the Scientology teachings to light.

Among the teachings is that most prescriptions are not allowed to be taken if you are a Scientologist, specifically psychiatric medications. However, the Web is filled with stories about members being kicked out of Scientology if they refused to give up their epilepsy medication.

In fact, Jett's Mom specifically said that she had her "home detoxified" as her treatment for Jett's seizures. While I'm skeptical that it would really work appropriately for such a serious medical condition, I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. However, at the time of her son's death, he was on vacation outside of the U.S. Was she able to "detoxify" (whatever that means) his environment everywhere he went? Not likely.

So, her beloved son had a relapse of a diagnosed medical condition that is almost always preventable with medication. Had Jett been on antiseizure medication, would he have had a grand mal seizure and caused the fatal trauma to his head? The chances are low.

Freedom of religion is an American right. Unfortunately, children aren't able to choose their religion. They generally have it forcefed to them by their parents until they are old enough to follow it or leave it. Jett will never be old enough to make that decision.

I'm Making a List and Checking It Twice...

2009-01-01T00:58:00.002-05:00

I'm Making a List and Checking It Twice...

Yeah, yeah. I know. Christmas is over, so why am I singing Christmas carols?

Well, the obvious answer is because I love to sing Christmas carols. You can hear "Oh Holy Night" bellowing from the top of my lungs 12 months of the year. Well, the first two lines, anyway. I can't remember the rest of the words, so I just keep repeating the intro ad nauseum.

But there's a different reason for the title of this entry.

New Year's is, after all, the perfect time for lists. Specifically, for lists of resolutions.

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours.

DiAnne's Resolutions for 2009:

Blog at least once a week. Daily is better, but weekly is more in tune with my severe free-time shortage. Don't let the fact that nobody actually reads this blog (let alone that nobody other than Unhinged and Beth make comments) deter my resolve. I need to write for me, not for the people who are(n't) reading.
Cut down on eating out. I'm just so damn lazy. When Mom hasn't already planned a meal, I immediately pipe up and insist we hit Burger King for some artery-clogging cholesterol-in-a-bun. The thing is, I don't even love the taste of fast food. It's just "easy." All it takes is a little planning ahead so we're not scratching our heads at 4 p.m. hunting for a quickie meal to stifle the grumbellies. I even have a deal where Mommie Dearest is willing to do most of the cooking. She just wants suggestions of what to cook. It sounds like weekly menus need to become a habit.
Be more diligent about my work schedule. Right now, it seems as if I spend a good 15 hours a day pecking away at the keyboard. But how much of that is spent actually working? After seeing how fast my inexperienced mom was able to whip out her batch of work yesterday and today while I barely got started on mine, obviously I need to become more focused. Anyone got any Ritalin they wanna share?
This little piggy will go "Wii, Wii, Wii" all the way home. That's right, I'm gonna push the coffee table outta the way and hula hoop my heart out on Wii Fit. I'm gonna plan for every other day, but I'll settle for twice a week (which is two days more a week than I'm doing now).

Geez, that's it? I could only come up with four things? That should make it easier to stick to 'em.

Tonight, I work. Tomorrow, I wiggle my ass to an imaginary hula hoop and eat leftover sauerkraut and pork instead of porking out at McDonald's. And since I just blogged about these plans, that means I've hit all four resolutions on the first day. Yay! Only 364 more to go.

Not Too Busy to Read

2008-12-01T11:25:00.004-05:00

To say I've been busy is an understatement. I'm working my butt off (unfortunately, that sentence indicates how much time my butt has been spent in my desk chair, NOT how much time it has been movin' and groovin' to the Wii Fit game).

To give an inkling as to truly how busy I have been, I recently decided to trim my bangs. I've done this a zillion times. This time, however, I decided that I didn't want to take the time to put in my contact lenses. I realized quickly that I couldn't evenly trim my bangs with my glasses in the way. So I took off my glasses. Ummm...not a good idea. Pictures will NOT be forthcoming. Thank God I work at home and nobody has to see my crooked bangs.

So, after working so much, I have one small bit of enjoyment at the end of the day. As I crawl under the covers, I flip on my bed light and grab the book off the nightstand. Per orders from Andi (and under threat of death by Beth), I've started reading the Twilight series. I'm halfway through the third book.

Last night, I decided to ditch the desk chair early and I was between the sheets shortly before midnight. I looked forward to at least an hour of Bella and Jacob and Edward lusciousness. I read a few pages and realized that I must be a lot more tired than I expected. I wasn't able to keep anything straight in my head. I reread the previous paragraph and then went on to the next page again...and it still didn't make sense.

A quick glance ahead brought doom to my bedtime ritual...not only had 32 pages from earlier in the book been duplicated, but 32 pages had also been omitted. ARRGH!! Evil vampires must have infiltrated the printing press JUST to keep me from finding out how Bella liked her present from Edward.

I'm off to Sam's Club to exchange this. No guarantees that I won't read the book while driving home. Yeah, I'm THAT desperate.

K-Tel Memories

2008-11-12T22:09:00.002-05:00

When I was a kid, the best part of the week was Saturday mornings. Dad would take one of us kids to the L&K Restaurant for breakfast. It was one of those great old diners that had a mini-jukebox on every table.

As I grew older and started to finally "get" all of the dirty jokes that were bandied about at school, I learned about the jukebox game. Basically, Dad and I would sit at the table waiting for the pancakes and bacon to arrive, and we'd pick out songs from the jukebox and see how we could turn a nice, wholesome song into something dirty by added "between the sheets" after the title.

Tonight, Beth and I were snooping through an old box of 8-track tapes. Yeah, 8-tracks. I've still got 'em. I can't play 'em, but these plastic boxes of history aren't gonna get buried in my landfill while I'm alive.

So, Beth and I started going through the songs. We came up with a few fun ones:

The Isley Brothers - "If You Can't Be With the One You Love, Love the One You're With" (between the sheets).

Barry White - "I've Got So Much to Give" (between the sheets).

Barry Manilow - "Looks Like We Made It" (between the sheets).

For the rather well-endowed fellows, they have:
Olivia Newton-John - "Deeper Than the Night" (between the sheets).

And for those who got the (ahem) short end of the stick, we have:
The Sweet - "Little Willy" (between the sheets).

And for those lonely souls who buy Duracell by the case, we've got:
The Beach Boys - "Good Vibrations" (between the sheets).

So, these were the ones that we grabbed from just a couple of random 8-tracks collecting dust in my garage. Got any other titles that would be good?

Never In My Wildest Dreams...

2008-11-04T23:01:00.002-05:00

...did I think America would make the right decision.

Thank you to everyone who stood in long voting lines.

Thank you to the people who knocked on doors.

Thank you to the people who decorated their lawns with Obama signs.

Thank you to Hillary for (finally) helping Obama's campaign.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

The hard works begin soon. But there is finally hope for America again.

What If?

2008-11-03T13:00:00.002-05:00

Election Day is tomorrow.

I've become a fanatic about watching CNN, checking out NPR's electoral map configurations, and even occasionally reading the one-sided networks of MSNBC and FoxNews just to see how each of them can twist a story to fit their narrow minds.

I've heard a lot about the fear of "The Bradley Effect" which, in a nutshell, says that white voters are too bigoted and prejudiced to elect a black person, but they are afraid to say that to someone, so they tell the pollsters that they will vote for him.

I don't worry about the Bradley Effect. Our nation has come a long way in the past 25 years and I think people don't see race as having nearly the stigma it used to. That, of course, is only true when comparing apples to apples and oranges to oranges. If you have someone like Richard Pryor going against someone like John McCain...yeah, you'll notice the race issue. But Barack Obama is just like all of the other Harvard graduates.

So...assuming America is no longer the prejudiced society that wouldn't REALLY for a black man even though they said they would back in 1982, let's play a little game of "What If?"

What if the Obamas had paraded five children across the stage including a three-month-old infant and an unwed, pregnant teenage daughter?

What if John McCain was a former president of the Harvard Law Review?

What if Barack Obama finished 5th from the bottom of his graduating class?

What if McCain had only married once and Obama had been divorced?

What if Obama was the candidate who left his first wife after a severe disfiguring car accident when she no longer measured up to his standards of beauty?

What if Obama had met his second wife in a bar and had a long affair with her while he was still married?

What if Michelle Obama was the wife who not only became addicted to painkillers but who stole them from her charitable organization?

What if Cindy McCain had graduated from Harvard?

What if Obama had been a member of the Keating Five? (The Keating Five were five U.S. Senators accused of corruption in 1989 igniting a major political scandal as part of the Savings and Loan Crisis in the 1980s and 1990s.)

What if McCain was a charismatic, eloquent speaker?

What if Obama couldn't read from a teleprompter?

What if Obama was the one who had military experience that included discipline problems and a record of crashing seven planes?

What if Obama was the one who was known to display publicly his serious anger management problem?

What if Michelle Obama's family had made their money from beer distribution?

What if the Obamas had adopted a white child?

If these things had happened, would Obama be anywhere even near McCain's 44% in the polls? No. He wouldn't have even been nominated. He would have been "too black."

This is what racism does. It covers up, rationalizes, and minimizes the positive qualities in one candidate and emphasizes negative qualities in another when there is a color difference.

Becoming a Bag Lady

2008-10-05T23:06:00.002-04:00

I recently learned that most recycling facilities refuse to accept plastic grocery bags. I decided to do a quick research on the reasoning behind this apparently nonsensical idea.

Well, it turns out the problem is two-fold.

First, most bags are NOT made of material that is readily recyclable. I believe that the Walmart bags that inevitably scurry along the the sides of the road in my area ARE recyclable as they have a big old "2" in the recycle triangle. My small-town recycler is very limited and only accept plastic marked 1 and 2, so it sounds like we should be good to go to getting these things out of the landfill and into the recycling program, right?

Wrong. The other reason that nearly all recyclers refuse the bags is because they are so thin and filmy, they get tangled in the machinery. The handles catch on the conveyer belts and they just cause so many problems that there are virtually no programs that accept them. (There are, however, specialty places that take them and remake them into a fake lumber which is beneficial.)

So, of course, the logical step is to follow in San Francisco's ecological footsteps and stop using the bags altogether. During my web prowl for ideas, I came upon a blog called QueerCents.com with a couple of great ideas.

Most folks mentioned how great canvas bags are. Yeah. They're good. But I grew up in the era where the only "bigger is better" thing involves television screens. When it comes to toting around stuff, I want thin, small, and lightweight. My mom solved that problem nearly 20 years ago.

She decided to make grocery bags out of "rip-stop nylon" (also known as "parachute material") which is incredibly strong and also, obviously, extremely lightweight. She made them just a smidge larger than a standard plastic Walmart bag, and when they aren't being used, they fold up so that six of them take up as much room (and even less weight) than a standard paperback book.

See all these yummy things? The next picture shows where I stuffed the bag to the brim with all that stuff from my cupboard. And hey, no teasing about the Poptarts. I have teenagers and they have their dietary requirements.

Ironically, the Walmart bag could only fit about half of the stuff that my bag held yet they were nearly the same size. Hmm.

Now, "rip-stop nylon" isn't cheap (about $8 a yard), but considering that places are selling thick, heavy, bulky canvas bags for nearly $10 apiece and mom can sell these for half that price, it's a pretty cool deal. And remember, these bags have been used and abused for nearly 20 years. Canvas can't hold a candle to that.

She's only made them for us, but heck, I think she should sell these suckers. They're better than anything else on the market.

The Happy Hippie Homecoming

2008-10-04T22:08:00.003-04:00

After the drama of Beth's homecoming preparations, I was a little frustrated that I had to leave home while Beth was in the middle of a First-Class Teenage Emotional Catastrophe, but it was still pretty awesome to have a little bit of "Mommy and Heather" time. I can't believe that my two teenage daughters are foolish enough to still enjoy spending time with their old mum. Yay.

We decided to go out to eat before I took her to Paul's house. We went to IHOP for some good old "Breakfast for Dinner" meals. Bacon IS one fo the four basic food groups, right? I know I felt like oinking on my way outta there, that's for sure. I guess it's true, you are what you eat. Oink.

As has become tradition at IHOP, while waiting for our meals, Heather has to do her duty as the Official Taste Tester of all the flavored syrups sitting on the table. Boysenberry is her pick. (I, of course, would like it a hell of a lot better if it was called girlsenberry, but I digress.)

After that, we had to walk over to Sam's Club where my recently disabled van was having a new battery installed. I had to pick up a few things, so Heather decided to get her dress and put it on in the store's restroom. Sure, she could have done it somewhere else, but heck, if you had an excuse to put on a party dress and be seen by a store full of customers, wouldn't you do it?

Heather looked amazing. She found a dress that looked like it was custom-made for her body. For some reason, all of my pictures made the dress look like it was raspberry colored, but it was really a maroon like in the photo from a couple of weeks ago (i.e. no make-up) above. While I wasn't thrilled about Heather's hair (the color is perfect for a Twilight Premiere Party, it wasn't exactly Cinderella-esque), but her make-up was pretty and she looked great.

We arrived at Paul's houe. Her boyfriend had on his suit and was just putting on cuff links as we arrived. Of course, since Paul is the consummate hippie, he had on a tie-dyed headband. His mom said, "Paul, you're not going to wear that thing on your head to the dance, are you?" Well, heck, how would anybody recognize him if he didn't have it on his head?

At Paul's school, just about everybody loves him for his quirkiness. He's just...Paul.

So, the Goth Princess and the Tie-Dyed Hippie headed off to dance the night away. I think Heather is STILL smiling from getting to spend that time with her beau.

By the end of the evening, he had shed his jacket and Heather stole his tie. The headband, of course, stayed firmly in place.

From "Handkerchief" to "Tissues"

2008-10-03T22:54:00.003-04:00

Homecoming - the epitome of every high school girl's dreams.

The big homecoming dance was last weekend. The biggest fear, of course, is that you won't be asked to the dance and you'll either have to go stag, or worse, not go at all. Fortunately, Beth and Heather have been dating their respective boyfriends for the past year. So, the issue of "Will I get a date?" was never a concern. That meant that Homecoming was gonna go off without a hitch.

Beth eagerly showed Corey her sparkly blue homecoming dress. He liked it, but he made the comment that "you might get in trouble for wearing it." Why? Because it had a bare back. After seeing the skimpy dresses that the other girls have worn, trust me, it wasn't going to be a problem. Corey wasn't convinced.

And once you put a fear in Beth's head, she obsesses. Compulsively. (Get it? An OCD pun!). She fretted about this dress for a week. Finally, she decided to get her friend's opinion. Sam liked the dress, but decided to offer Beth the dress that she had worn to homecoming last year. After their youth group activities on Friday, Beth and Sam came over and Beth showed me Sam's dress.

Beth looked like Cinderella. It was a baby blue satiny material with a "handkerchief hem." When she called her other friend, Elizabeth, to tell her about it, her mom offered her the use of some silver shoes that would just be perfect. Then, I remembered I have a tanzanite ring which I bought on my cruise that was just the perfect color to match the dress. Finally, we got out a blue aquamarine necklace that has been "Beth's favorite" bauble in my jewelry box since she was a little kid. Beth actually had tears in her eyes as she said, "This is like so perfect. It's like it was just meant to be. Everything has worked out exactly right. It's like fate intervened and made everything just the way it was supposed to be. I'm so happy!"

We took a picture with Beth's cell phone and sent it to Corey so he could see her new dress.

The next day was moderately chaotic as tends to happen with teenage girls, as they got ready for the dance.

All of a sudden, Beth slammed shut her cell phone and burst into tears.

It turns out that Corey finally saw the picture and texted her the message, "Why not wear the dress you wore last year? I think this new dress is kinda ugly."

What moron would possibly say something like that to the love of his life?

When Beth texted back that she was really upset about what he had said, Corey texted back "what the fuck ever." Yeah. He did. Ain't he just the sweetest?

That's when the tears started to gush. She was crushed. She was hurt. She was devastated.

And I was pissed.

She sat at the computer desk for two hours bawling her eyes out. See that mess of tissues up there? That's what was left AFTER she filled up the trash can with tissues.

A couple of hours (and the better part of a box of Kleenex) later, Beth was still undecided as to whether to even go. Thanks to Corey's apparent inability to act human, her night was ruined. It would no longer be this dream of showing up at her high school looking like a princess and having all of her former classmates ogle and stare and wonder why they hadn't noticed her before.

Finally, she decided she would still go to the dance.

Since I had to take Heather up to her boyfriend's house an hour away, I left Beth in my mom's capable hands in order to transform my little tomboy into Cinderella. Her hair was curled. Her fingers were jeweled. And her dress was shimmering. She looked awesome. She couldn't wait until Corey would walk through the door so he could see how nice she looked.

As soon as he entered the houe, Beth said, "See??"

He responded, "well, it's not as ugly as in the cell phone picture."

Yeah. He really said that.

So, she might have been Cinderella, but that boy is no Prince Charming, that's for sure.

Bloop Bloop Bloop thirty seconds at a time

2008-09-21T22:28:00.002-04:00

It's one of my favorite times of the year...

Fall Season Premiere week.

Old favorites are coming back to my family room...Survivor! Desperate Housewives!! Boston Legal!!

In the stone-age time of 2002, "Season Premiere Week" would involve ignoring phone calls during prime time, labeling VCR tapes and having different shows recorded on different TVs...and then collecting dust as I never watched the taped shows.

But in 2003, my life changed. I met the first man who ever made my life truly happy...

Mr. Tivo.

When I got my first Tivo, it was a fairly new gadget and most people didn't understand it. My mom certainly thought it was a waste of money. I admit, I never told her how much it actually cost. (ahem).

But it didn't take long before our family decided we couldn't possibly watch TV without a peanut-shaped remote in our hands bloop-bloop-blooping our way through commercials. Someone recently asked me if I had seen that new commercial for something-or-other. Ummm. Nope. Commercials are for the neanderthals who don't have a "fast-forward" button on their TV.

I scoff at the poor souls who actually believe their cable companies when they say "Our DVR is JUST LIKE TIVO." Yeah. And a Big Mac is JUST LIKE PRIME RIB! As someone who has experienced both Tivo and Cable's DVRs, there is no comparison. They both do the basics - record TV. But Tivo does it easier, better, and with features Cable can't fathom.

Record every show to my computer? It's a simple push of a button. Transfer the TiVo shows to iPod? One click.
Record a show in the living room and play it in my office? No problemo.
How about watching home movies on the TiVo?
Or better yet, send home movies to the Tivo at your friend's house in Iowa? It's pretty simple. As long as you get the real Tivo.

So...a year later, I bought a TiVo for each of the girls for Christmas. The following year, Mom got one for Christmas, too.

Yes, we're addicted. I'm even creating a spreadsheet with lists of which series gets recorded on which Tivo so that we can watch EVERYTHING! I'm totally anal about not watching a series unless I see every episode. I still have a full year's worth of "Dirty Sexy Money" saved on my office's TiVo queue because I missed one episode and haven't taken the time to watch it online. But I will. Just as soon as I get through Chuck and Heroes and Pushing Daisies and...

Hmmm.... My "To Be Recorded" list is in serious jeopardy of being renamed my "Recorded But Never To Be Watched" list.

Yawn

2008-09-12T06:39:00.002-04:00

Crap! Is it really 6:30 in the freakin' A M?? And I've already been moving around for a half an hour? Is this some sort of Twilight Zone episode?

No.

It's just my pitiful attempt at school-time parental duties.

Mom's 65-year-old arthritic back finally said "Gimme a break!" and she's been flat on her back in a Vicodin-induced stupor for the last 24 hours. Which meant that I actually had to set three alarm clocks (one of them in the bathroom so I'd be forced to stumble bleary-eyed and bare-assed nekkid through the hallway to shut it off instead of just rolling over and hitting snooze) to make sure the girls make it to school with all of their clothing intact and the morning fuzz scrubbed away from their pearly whites.

So, here I am, ready to go to to work. Andi gave me the wag of her finger not too long ago for going two months between blog entries. I hang my head in shame (which puts my forehead perilously close to the desk which will inevitably be a precursor to a quick little 20-minute "desk nap" if I'm not careful). So here I am.

Yawn.

Distracting the Itch

2008-08-05T19:25:00.002-04:00

Heather thought it would be oh-so-amusing to go for a walk, climb a tree and take a picture of the view from the treetops with her cell phone, thus scaring the happy crappy out of her acrophobic mommy dearest. I was totally freaking out seeing how high up in the tree she had climbed. I shrieked at her to get down. She laughed and laughed.

A week later, she scratched and scratched.

Yep, there was a nasty little bugger of a vine climbing that tree along with my daughter. The first few spots showed up right before Heather's boyfriend came for a visit. He's one of those outdoorsy types (working on his Eagle Scout project right now), and he took one look at her arm and said, "ummm, yeah. That's like totally poison ivy, dude." (I wonder if they have Boy Scout merit badges for being a hippy?)

Every day, the rash seemed to get worse.

It's been a challenge finding something to distract her to keep her from clawing her skin right off of her body.

Finally, she remembered how much fun it was to whack the mobsters while playing The Godfather on Wii. Yeah, go ahead, nominate me for Mother of the Year for letting my teenager learn the ultimate skills of extorting racketeers and using her Tommy Gun on innocent bystanders.

Still, it worked. I was thrilled that every time I looked at her, she had both hands on the Wii remotes rather than digging at her skin.

Then, she came to talk to me and I realized what happens when you become so engrossed in a video game that you forget to blink.

So, yeah. Red, itchy skin versus red, itchy eyes. Blink, dammit!

Overworked and Underpaid

2008-07-24T19:26:00.000-04:00

I've been working for a transcription company in Florida for about 8 months now. It's going well. Sure, it's not a perfect job, but hey, it's paying the bills, right.

Last week, my friend Carrie offered me a part-time job transcribing notes for her mental health facility. Cool beans. Extra money means Mama can buy more electronic gadgets. Woo hoo!

An hour after I got off the phone with Carrie, Michelle, a nurse with whom I worked at Dr. Gabrail's office, called me and said that her boss wants to hire me as a transcriptionist. I had my interview yesterday and it went extremely well. So, I'll be doing part-time work for Carrie and part-time work for Dr. Eicher. Cool.

Then I got a phone call from Ann who wants me to type an 8-hour interview between a son and his ailing father. I said yes. That 8-hour interview will take me roughly 40 hours to type...while working for the other doctors.

All this time, I planned to continue working for the Florida company because I hate to turn down work.

This morning's phone call, of course, changed that strategy. A former client called and said their transcriptionist just turned in her notice and they want me to start tomorrow. Tomorrow?? Holy shit!

So, I called Terry from Florida and turned in my notice. She took it very well and said I was welcome back anytime. I think my fingers may just fall off from too much long, hard dic at one time. Isn't that how John Holmes died??

How to Make Your Own Charcoal

2008-07-23T22:02:00.002-04:00

I'm a busy mama in the mornings. So it is with the utmost disregard for authority that I usually totally ignore the "do not leave toaster unattended" warning on the Pop Tarts box.

So, I'm sitting at Mom's desk knee-deep in the process of reformatting her computer when I hear, "Mom, your toast is burning." I didn't worry that much about it because I could always throw away the burnt pastries and start over.

Then I hear the tinge of panic in her voice as Heather says, "Ummm, they are on FIRE!!!"

I take off at a run and sure enough, there are flames within inches of the bottom of the cupboards. Heather was smart enough to avoid throwing water on an electrical fire (see, she really does pay attention to public service announcements!). Mom grabbed the baking soda and we quickly extinguished the flames.

Check out the pop tarts that were reincarnated into charcoal.

I had to use silicone potholders just to unplug the toaster because the plug had melted around the power strip. Meanwhile, the toaster is puffing away and filling the house with the putrid stench of burnt plastic. Ugh.

Unfortunately, the disgusting smell of burning plastic wasn't quite as easy to eradicate.

So, I guess when the experts say you should have a nice hot breakfast, this isn't quite what they had in mind.

Buying Voters

2008-07-14T12:12:00.002-04:00

Our election process is severely flawed. We have a great premise "let the people decide" but it has become a system where the person with the most money can buy the most votes.

We have "news" channels like Fox News which paints every story with a lovey shade of Republican Red. We have the religious channels which proclaim with great enthusiasm when discussing abortion that every soul deserves to live (unless, of course, the baby turns out to be a gay Muslim Democrat). We've got Jon Stewart (and yeah, I've got him TiVo'd) poking holes in all of the Republican concepts.

The election is won or lost through the media. It doesn't really matter where the candidate stands on issues. All that matters is how the media will spin their version of where the candidate stands on them.

Today, The New Yorker magazine came out with a cover cartoon of Barack and Michelle Obama.

According to the magazine, they were doing "a satire of the media propaganda surrounding the candidate." All I can see is that The New Yorker was encouraging the very propaganda they were supposedly ridiculing.

I Get Crabby When The Kids Go To Camp

2008-07-10T23:43:00.002-04:00

Last Sunday, I tearfully waved goodbye to my daughters as they went off to church camp for a week.

The tears were tears of joy.

Why? Because without two hungry teenagers in the house, suddenly I could afford to partake in my favorite pastime. Eating.

It started with Tuesday. King Crab Legs, baby!! I'm talking those super-sized suckers that have spiky legs the length of my own arm. I'm still drooling.

Tonight, it was Beth's favorite restaurant.

Don't let the picture of the (moderately) healthy ceasar salad fool you. My entree was grilled shrimp skewers dripping with garlic butter. Hopefully I'll still have garlic breath when they come home tomorrow and I kiss them hello.

Tomorrow, they're back. And I'm back to cheapo Mac & Cheese and Ramen soup.

The Word of the Day Is...

2008-07-07T20:00:00.000-04:00

OK, Kiddies, the word of the day is...
Irony.

Irony as depicted in this picture.

Yes, I went to Sam's Club and bought the Jumbo Size bag of Reese's Pieces.

And yes, doing my part to aid in the "Reuse, Reduce, and Recycle" effort, I saved the plastic container that my Alli Weight Loss pills came in.

And yeah, I stored my candy in it. Ironic, eh?

I'm a Foxy Lady

2008-07-06T20:02:00.000-04:00

A couple of years ago, I switched from Microsoft's "Internet Explorer" to Mozilla's "Firefox" as my web browser. I could give all sorts of good reasons for why I switched, but the ultimate answer is simply that all of the smart cyber geeks seemed to prefer Firefox.

Since then, I've upgraded to version 2.0 and last week I upgraded again to their newest version, aptly titled Firefox 3.0.

There are tons of security and performance improvements, but the upgrade was worth it for one reason only...

Full-page zoom.

Previously, I've had zoom capabilities for text but it was infinitely frustrating to my myopic eyes to try to figure out what was in a little picture. My 22-inch monitor was basically being wasted by many sites because the text and pictures would be fairly small with a big bit of nothingness off to the right.

Now, when I hold CTRL and move my scroll wheel, the whole page zooms in and out. I can read the tiniest print and check out the tiniest detail in pictures (Paris Hilton's underwear notwithstanding). It's awesome. And, of course, it is free.

Oh, and another nice benefit are the free add-ons that Firefox offers. My favorite is "AdBlock Plus" which eliminates ALL of those damn annoying animated banner ads.

Apt Commercialization

2008-07-05T21:09:00.003-04:00

In this day and age of TiVo (and fake TiVo wannabes), it's not all that common that I watch those 30-minute segments of inane commercials.

Yeah, yeah. I know. Commercials are a necessary evil. They pay for the programs we watch, after all. Though, I have to say, my exorbitant cable bill clearly indicates that I'm already paying for that programming, but I digress.

Still, the problem is that most commercials are annoying. The public is more than willing to watch good commercials. Heck, the best part of the Super Bowl is the ads, right? But for the most part, companies don't care. They think that repeating the same sentences over and over and over is the most effective way to have people remember their product. And even more irritating than that is when they repeat the same exact commercial twice in less than 5 minutes. Ugh!

I guess that's what makes good commercials so memorable. That's why 30 years later we still remember Mean Joe Green and his Coca-Cola.

And, of course, there are the Budweiser frogs.

Sometimes commercials are just so perfect, you wonder why someone didn't think of it sooner. Today, I heard a Visa commercial where a young couple finally decide to buy a new flat-screen television. Of course, being of the "Now Generation," they don't have the money for it. Rather than save up for their new purchase, they whip out the old credit card. And the song that plays as they dig themselves deeper into debt? It's Queen's "I Want It All (and I want it NOW)." How perfect.

Hey Beth, Keep Your Chin Up!

2008-06-26T23:12:00.002-04:00

When Beth was born (gasp! nearly 17 years ago!), she was over 2 months premature and spent the first 2 months of her tiny life living in an incubator. To touch her, we had to put our hands in these little holes inside the box where she was being kept warm and safe.

On top of that, I was a pretty sick chick, too. The pregnancy was toxic to me and my vital signs were wickedly out of whack. Because of that, I was completely bed bound for the first few days after Beth was born. After two days of not being allowed to even SEE my daughter, let alone hold her, I kicked up a temper tantrum nasty enough that the doctors felt if they didn't get me down to the neonatal ICU soon, my blood pressure would be through the roof.

So, to ameliorate the postpartum freak out I was about to have, they wheeled me into that bright, sterile environment while I was still lying flat in my hospital bed. Not the best way to finally see your newborn baby.

It was a few days before I finally graduated to a wheelchair. That meant I could reach my arm into one of those incubator holes and I could touch my baby's face for the first time. It's a feeling I will never forget. Check out those bruises on my arms! And see that teeny little bottle sitting beside the blue machinery? Just call me Elsie the Cow. Homemade milk, baby!

Since this was my first time really seeing Beth, I did the usual new parent thing and counted fingers and toes. When I looked at her face, I realized she had a bump on her chin. It was ragged and irregular. Since she was born by C-section, I assumed the doctor nicked her chin with the scalpel when he was taking her out.

It was probably ten years later when a doctor noticed it and told me it was actually a mole. Weird. It was "skin colored" and not round. Sure 'nuff, another doctor looked at it a few years laterand agreed it was a mole. He felt she should have it removed while she was young and could heal better.

Another few years later, I finally convinced Beth to have it removed. It would have been smart of me to take a picture of it, but too late! This is the closest I could get.

Monday, she went under the knife (for real this time - not just presumably being nicked by an obstetrician), and she is now beautifully bump-free. Or so I would assume. She's still bandaged up, but the surgeon said it would be barely noticeable after a few months.

My brave baby.

Do the Hippie Hippie Shake

2008-06-06T18:53:00.000-04:00

Recently, Heather got to spend a few hours with her boyfriend.

Paul, well, how can I describe Paul. I’d have to say that Paul is just a weird duck.

But as far as weird ducks go…Paul is infinitely likeable. He makes me laugh. He’s a total hippie. Yep, long hair, tie-dye headband and everything.

What I like best about Paul is the fact that he lives for himself. He doesn’t care what other people think about him. He’s just so completely sure of himself which is a quality I’m sorely lacking.

When Heather took Paul to her Youth Group meeting, a young 6-year-old girl noticed Heather was holding his hand. She went up to him and asked if he was a boy or a girl. Between Paul’s long hair and the fact that Heather had covered Paul’s fingernails with a pretty shade of blue nail polish, you can understand her question. He laughed and said he’s a boy. The poor little girl was mortified that she had asked, but I have a feeling that it totally made Paul’s day.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to just live life not worrying about people making fun of you or telling you how you have to live?

Don’t bother with mascara that always seems to flake off and turn my sclera bloodshot.

Choose your high school boyfriend based on who makes you happy, not who will allow you to rise a rung on the social ladder.

No need to wear a tight bra just to make my boobs land somewhere north of the equator just because everyone else thinks it looks better.

I don’t know about you, but as for me, until everybody else feels like they can be themselves, I guess I gotta follow the crowd. Oxymoronic, ain’t it.

Overdressed

2008-06-04T19:30:00.001-04:00

Now that we live right across the street from the city park and tennis courts, suddenly Heather finds the need to put on make-up and do her hair BEFORE going out to mow the grass. Sometimes, she even dresses up for the occasion.

I'm not kidding you, she actually took off shorts and a t-shirt and put this on just to mow. I have a feeling there was a cute shirtless teenage boy across the street whacking tennis balls and she wanted to catch his attention. (She's cute enough, she could have done it in sweat pants!)

OK, as per Andi's request (from the comments section), here, I present Heather's infamous "Panda Hair."

Overstimulated

2008-06-03T22:26:00.002-04:00

Who says that kids nowadays can't focus on more than one thing at a time?

For example, tonight, my daughter was talking to two different people on IM, had her email open, was listening to music through her MP3 player, was on the cell phone (with the house phone within easy reach) AND was reading a book in between sentences.

Now if only she could learn to chew gum and walk at the same time without tripping over her shoelaces, she'd be all set.

Welcome to Middle Age

2008-05-31T22:26:00.002-04:00

It's not every day that you turn 40. As a matter of fact, it's a once-in-a-lifetime event. But for me, it really wasn't a big deal. No party, no get-together with friends. It was just another day. And let's face it, when you have family like I do, that's all you need.

For starters, my Mommie Dearest continued our long tradition of bypassing the standard birthday cake routine. She made one of her incredible "birthday pies." It's an apple pie made with three different types of apples with slices of cheese melted in the middle. She even sprinkles a little sugar on the top crust so it gets crunchy. Damn. I think I just drooled on my keyboard thinking about it.

Not only that, but Mom also bought a silk iris plant for my office. I've always had an affinity for purple irises. A few years ago, mom quilted an iris wall-hanging which is hanging beside my desk. For mother's day recently, the girls bought a little silk iris which is on my desk beside my phone. Now, this full-size plant is perched in the corner. I need to get a stand for it.

Unfortunately, Beth made plans to spend the night with her friend, so she was gone. I was cool with it. I get 364 days a year with her, I can give up a night so she can have fun with her friend, right? Still, I hoped she'd at least least make me a card or something, right? Apparently not.

Since I knew I would be receiving a little bit of money from Dad and his girlfriend, I decided to use it to buy a new MP3 player. I decided to join the Mac Fanboys and got an iPod 80 GB. It's nice, but I sure do miss some of the features that I had on my Creative Zen (which Beth is going to be using now). The only reason I switched was simply because everything is "Made For Ipod." Hmmm, I wonder if I should buy a new car since a lot of them have iPod docks. :)

The one gift I really wanted was a drawing from Heather. I had asked her to draw a picture that was in Stephen King's "The Eyes of the Dragon." She said she would, but she got busy and kinda forgot about it. Oh well, that's okay.

Imagine my surprise when she came up around 10 o'clock at night and showed me what she had been locked away in her room working on. I love it.

After a wonderful, relaxing evening, I head off to bed.

Beth didn't forget, after all. This note was waiting for me. Man, she has a way with words.

Dying To Make My Girls Happy

2008-05-11T18:34:00.003-04:00

Recently, my girls have become obsessed with wanting their hair to be dyed. We've been lightening Heather's dishwater-blond hair for a few years now, but suddenly, she wants to go burgundy, and her sister wants it, too.

Once they finally convinced me that it would be so cool to have burgundy "low lights" in their hair, I relented. Last night at midnight, I stuck a shower cap on each girl's head and started the slow process of pulling strands of hair through the cap with a crochet hook.

Over two hours later, we were finally ready for the dye. Yes, we really were dying hair at 2 o'clock in the morning. I'm just nuts that way.

After the final rinse, the girls ran to the bathroom to blow their locks dry and check out the new 'do.

Unfortunately, according to Heather, it was a "hair don't" rather than a "hair do." She was so upset because she couldn't see much of a difference at all. Well, yeah, it was supposed to be subtle. I thought it looked nice on both girls (forgot to take a picture of Beth), but admittedly, it should have had bigger streaks.

So, this morning, we did it all over again. Another 2 hours of crocheting my girls hair followed by more burgundy hair dye.

I could hear Heather's scream as she was drying her hair. This time, though, it was whoops of delight (at least in HER eyes). She thought it looked totally awesome. I thought it looked way, way too much. Beth's was just about right, but Heather's was just too goth. Heather, of course, was quick to point out that "nobody is goth, Mom. This is Emo." I stand corrected.

A few Emo pictures later, and here's what we've got.

Oh, and the underneath side of their hair is still natural, which is pretty funky when they bend over.

Better Stock Up On Red Bull

2008-05-10T01:24:00.002-04:00

It's been a rough school year on my little Beth. As a sophomore, she's been working her little fingers to the bone trying to keep caught up on her classes this year and they've been pretty intense. She chose to bypass the easier classes and enrolled in Honors and Advanced Placement classes.

So, after being buried under mounds of books and research papers for the past 9 months, she's obviously planning on taking easier courses for her Junior year, right?

Umm, no. She's trying to take it up a notch.

She found out about a program that will allow a handful of high school juniors and seniors to attend classes at Kent State University while earning college credit and high school credit simultaneously. Yikes. She's been working her butt off trying to get in. Her grade point average is fine (3.888 - woo hoo!), but that's only one part of the selection process.

Unfortunately, she had to take the ACT test (similar to the SAT) while she had mono. The next week, she had to take the COMPASS test (another standardized college entrance exam). The mononucleosis bug still had her feeling like she was knocking on death's door, so obviously she was not on her best game.

But today, the postman brought the letter...she's been accepted!!

In the fall, my high school junior will also be a college freshman! Oh, and the very best part is that the program is 100% free. It's not based on income guidelines or student loans or anything. The state pays for the tuition and the books and everything. Woo hoo!

Now the problem is trying to figure out what she wants to do after graduation. I'm pushing for a broad nursing background because she can use that in a wide variety of careers, but she's not convinced. She's still trying to figure out her future. At 16, I guess that's pretty understandable.

It Must Be That Time of the Month

2008-05-08T23:38:00.003-04:00

No frickin' way.

It cannot possibly have been a month since I last posted. What the hell?

Yeah, yeah. I have the excuse of "too much work" and "I was busy" and "the house needed cleaned" and anything else I can think of, but none of the excuses are valid. Sometimes, I sit here and think "Oh, I wanna post a new entry" but as soon as I click onto Firefox so I can write the entry...well, some stupid article on my Google homepage will interest me and off I go into Cyber Land.

Then, of course, so much time has gone by that I feel ridiculous posting an entry talking about Heather's Winter Formal, especially since we're halfway through spring.

As if that weren't enough, I find myself avoiding my blogging friends. I see that my favorite little nutcase in Los Angeles has (gasp!) 7 blog entries which I haven't even read yet. Why? Because I feel guilty reading her stuff when I don't take the time to do mine.

Also, after posting my last entry, a long, lost friend from AOL Journals wrote to me to say hi. I was beyond thrilled to get her email. I couldn't wait to write back. Just let me finish typing this one document and then I'll respond. I've typed probably a thousand documents since then and still haven't written. And now I feel guilty for leaving her hanging.

So ya know what? Tomorrow I'm going to ignore the doctor and his big dic. I'm going to bypass Google News (all the news that is too mediocre to print). And I'm gong to let the laundry wrinkle in the dryer long after it has buzzed. (Umm, well, admittedly, I ALWAYS do that, so I can't use that as an excuse.) Tomorrow, I write an entry. And if it has to do with a Winter Formal, we'll just pretend that the white fluffy stuff blowing in the breeze outside my window is snow rather than the pretty petals dropping from my cherry tree.

What's My Tagline?

2008-04-12T17:37:00.003-04:00

Holy Crap! I've been Tagged!

Well, if Andi says to blog...then I must bloggeth (that's even in her vernacular!)

You’re feeling: Homicidal. My darling 16-year-old daughter has a boyfriend who seems to care a hell of a lot more for how his penis is feeling than for how his girlfriend is feeling. She's told me that she is not ready for sex, but she is convinced that if she doesn't have sex, she'll lose him. I'm feeling like it's just about time to get a pair of vice grips and make sure that he never wants to make that suggestion to her again.

To your left: An unfortunately empty wall. Usually, I have a quilted wall hanging of an iris there, but my Mommie Dearest is displaying it in the county Quilt Show at this very minute. This item is the one thing I would probably grab if the house ever caught on fire. Well, I might grab my kids, but only because they make such good tax deductions.

On your mind: Geez. I gotta clean my desk. Every time I sit here to type, I realize I should be cleaning instead. I swear, I'm gonna marry Mary Poppins one day so I never have to look at dust bunnies again.

Last meal included: Burger King has this new mega burger called the "Steakhouse Burger" and it's frickin' delish. It's so big that I actually left almost half of it uneaten (and for me, that's saying something). The meat is so good. It's not just your standard flame-broiled fare. It's got crispy edges and then they put these crispy fried onion crispies on top. I swear there was an audible sound of arteries clogging with every bite.

You sometimes find it hard to: Structure my time. Thus, the woeful lack of posts on this blog. I find myself eternally sidetracked during my workday, which means the "workday" turns into the "worknight" and I'm frequently still sitting at this blasted keyboard until after the beasties are in bed just so I can finally meet my quota.

The weather: After having a beautiful week of sun and 70 degree weather, alas, Beth's convertible top has once again been put up and the car is under a cover. Let's just hope it doesn't float away with all this rain.

Something you have a collection of: My collection of Stephen King first editions is extraordinary. Unfortunately, last year when I was suffering from Acute Empty Walletitis, I had to sell my prized book - a limited edition copy of Six Stories. I originally bought it for $125 and sold it on eBay for $600. Now that money is flowing a bit more evenly, I looked to see if I could snag a copy (only 900 copies were made), and sure 'nuff, eBay has three of them, ranging in price from $750 to $1,300. Looks like that little spot on my King bookcase will be staying empty.

A smell that cheers you up: Heather uses this awesome "Aussie Mega" shampoo and conditioner and when she gets her hair good and clean, I could follow her around like a puppy.

A smell that can ruin your mood: Cigarettes. Last year Ohio finally voted in a smoking ban and now I no longer have to hold my breath when entering restaurants, but unfortunately the ban only pertains to enclosed spaces which means all of the smokers are sucking on their cancer sticks just outside the door. Still, baby steps. Soon, all cigarettes will be gone. That's the only good thing that can be said of a Marlboro -- cancer cures smoking.

How long since you last shaved: Umm, can I plead the fifth? I actually took a picture of my overgrown legs to post on my blog, just haven't gotten the guts to do it, yet.

The current state of your hair: I'm about four months into the great "growing out my bangs" project. I'm at that funky stage where my face is just this huge pale mass of nothingness and I look longingly at every pair of scissors I see.

The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer): Not one, but TWO baskets filled with furbabies. When I first bought this massive desk for my office, I thought I'd take one of Mom's Longaberger (i.e. "expensive") baskets and use it as an inbox. Well, it didn't take long for Harmony and Melody to claim it as their own (frequently together). Now that they are bigger, I've picked up another similar basket and now they each take their own.

Your skill with chopsticks: Fair to middlin. When I was in high school, I dated a guy (I know, can ya believe it?) who was rather worldly. He was born in India, his father owned a bank in Kuwait, he went to school in London...anyway, one day we went to one of those Japanese type of restaurants where they make the food in front of you. It was such a thrill, he decided to introduce me to all sorts of different restaurants. One night before going to an authentic Chinese restaurant, he brought home some chopsticks and taught me how to use them. I remember using sunflower seeds (first in the shell, then just the bitty seeds) to practice. Fun!

Which section do you head for first in a bookstore: I'm a thrill seeker in the library if not in real life. I love the mysteries and thrillers. Ironically, even though I love Stephen King, I am not a horrror fan.

Something you’re craving: Mmm. cookies.

Your general thoughts on the presidential race: The best thing that ever happened to the Democratic Party was having Monkey Boy in the White House fucking up the country for the past 8 years. He's turned many staunch Republicans into Democrats.

Favorite place to go for a quiet moment: That would be "the library" in my house. Also known as the bathroom. I've got more reading material in the bathroom than I do anywhere else.

You’ve always secretly thought you’d be a good: When I was young, I thought I would totally rock as a teacher. I remember playing school as a kid and creating these elaborate lesson plans and making up grade books. Then, I had children and decided that when my own kids were rotten, it took every ounce of restraint not to throttle them. How would I deal with other folks' juvenile delinquents?

Something that freaks you out a little: The onslaught of Guatemalans who have moved into my small town. Ten years ago, there was about a 0.5% population of Guatemalans. Now, it is over 15%. Virtually none of them speak English. None have drivers licenses (but they all drive - without benefit of the knowledge of Ohio's traffic laws, nor the insurance necessary when their ignorance wreaks havoc on the other drivers on the road). They get someone to rent a house and they fill it with 20 people for a 3 bedroom house. I spent most of my life thinking I was not a prejudiced person, but now, I absolutely cannot stand how my lovely town has deteriorated because of these people who make up their own rules and won't abide by ours.

Something you’ve eaten too much of lately: Hershey Kisses. I've got a little stash of 'em in my desk drawer and I let them melt in my mouth while working. So far, my favorite are the "cheesecake" flavor, but the "chocolate covered cherry" flavor are pretty damn tasty, too.

You have never: Tried any illegal drugs. It's hard to believe in this day and age, but it's true. I'm afraid that if I tried something and liked it, I'd be hooked immediately. Let's face it, just based on my eating habits, obviously I don't know how to quit.

You never want to: Put on a bra. I swear the inventor of the brassiere was the same massochocistic man who invented Stilletto heels.

Have a Berry Happy Birthday, Heather!

2008-04-08T22:35:00.004-04:00

Fifteen years. Can ya believe it? I've actually let my daughter live to see her fifteenth birthday.

And, of course, the very best part about birthdays is that we all get to eat cake. Boy, did I do it up right this time. I knew I didn't have time to run to the store for anything, so I hoped we still had that box of cake mix in the cupboard.

Yepper. Lemon. Yummy.

Drat, no frosting. What is a cake without the coma-inducing sweetness of frosting? Oh wait, I've seen Bundt cakes with just a sprinkling of powdered sugar. That'll work.

Damn. That's gonna be a pretty boring cake. Hopefully Heather won't mind.

Wait a minute...the lightbulb above my head just flickered on and I remembered we had a small bag of frozen berries in the freezer. That'll perk up this boring cake.

Oooh! And let's add a drizzle of...

Hmmm. What can we drizzle on the cake to make the berries stick?

Pudding!

This was not only the prettiest cake I've ever made, it was damn near the best tasting, too. YUM!

Oh, and Heather's hair? That rat's nest is compliments from her ride home from Play Practice in Beth's convertible.

Silly Rabbit, Trix Are For Kids!

2008-04-02T23:29:00.004-04:00

It's a grand tradition in my household to try to out-trick each other on April first.

This year, I won.

You see, I'm a geek. A nerd. An gadget guru.

I'm also sneaky.

There is this handy little feature that is employed via Microsoft Word called "auto correct" which lets you type an abbreviation and have the entire phrase typed out (for instance, I could set it so it would type "still MT Headed" every time I typed "smth" if I chose).

I recently discovered that these same "auto correct" entries also work in Microsoft Outlook, which is the email program we all use.

So, sneaky little DiAnne decided to change Mom's Outlook entries so that every time she typed the words "the" or "and" or "I" it would spit out a lovely little message from me.

The email on the left is what it SHOULD have looked like. The email on the right is what showed up. She was quite confused, to say the least.

Can you imagine doing this to everyone in your entire office? Mwahhahaha!! I'm evil, I tell ya!

Blizzards and Butts

2008-03-10T23:32:00.003-04:00

Aww, my sweet Heather.

She spent the weekend shoveling the driveway after Ohio got walloped with 14 inches of snow over the course of 2 days. This was one hell of a bad time for our brand new $600 snowblower to bite the dust (instead of biting the snow).

I thought her act of kindness deserved a treat. How better to celebrate my Blizzard-Savior than with a Blizzard?

Off we drove to good old Dairy Queen. Only native Ohioans feel that driving through 14 inches of snow to get ice cream is a practical idea.

BLIZZARDS AND BUTTS - PART ONE
We sit down at our little booth. Well, let me rephrase that. Heather slid into her seat. I wedged my big old derrière into my seat. Really, don't you think that the geniuses who designed the tables and attached chairs at Dairy Queen would consider that their clientele might need just a smidge more belly room between the table and the attached chair than you'd have at a salad bar?

Heather plops a spoonful of Banana Cream Pie-flavored ice cream into her mouth and a very pleased sound of happiness escaped...from her rump. Yep, she farted. That tooter was loud enough that the Amish kids on the other side of the room even turned to look. Well, admittedly, they might have turned to look our way because both Heather and I were holding our tummies and cackling like hyenas. It's true what they say, farts are fun. Especially when the fart emanates from someone else.

BLIZZARDS AND BUTTS - PART TWO
After howling with laughter, we left the restaurant and headed to the van. But, of course, when a silly teenager spies a 4-foot high mountain of snow, what else could she possibly do but climb it to become Queen of the Mountain (that's why it was at Dairy Queen, of course). Climb she did.

And then fall she did. Right onto her rump. Yet again, I practically peed myself laughing with my daughter after she did something unexpected with her tush.

Kids are fun.

If I Strep For You, Will You Strep For Me

2008-03-07T23:25:00.002-05:00

You know you're in trouble when you walk out of the doctor's office actually wishing that the diagnosis was strep throat.

Unfortunately, after a grotesquely enlarged Q-tip was swabbed halfway down my daughter's throat, followed by another one up her left nostril, it was determined that she does not have strep throat.

The diagnosis - mono.

Crap.

In a month where she has a week of her high school's panic-inducing standardized tests, followed by a grade-busting AP History exam, and concluding with taking the ACT college entrance exam, now poor Beth has a debilitating virus that has turned my vibrant, hard-working teenager into a halitosis-festering lump of sweaty flesh.

The worst part is that there is apparently no treatment for mono (whereas if the diagnosis had been strep throat, a prescription of antibiotics would have had her back to normal (as evidenced by her fingers being glued to the keyboard and her ears eternally plugged by headphones) within a day or two. But since Mono is a virus, all we can do is wait it out for weeks or even months.

Empty Pockets

2008-03-04T22:57:00.002-05:00

For years, Ohioans have been waging a war with the local school districts. All over the state, the schools have been putting property tax assessments on the ballots to fund the schools.

The State has determined that this is unconstitutional.

The schools continue to do it.

Now with the incredible clusterfuck that has hit the economy for the past (ahem) 8 years, Ohioans have said enough. We're going to keep voting down these property taxes. Find another way to fund the schools, something that will be more fair than just hitting property owners.

My local school is a fantastic school. Indeed, it has earned an "excellent" rating the past several years. My kids have thrived.

My wallet, however, has not.

Last year they tried to put an "emergency" levy on the ballot which would cost $0.79 for every $100 valuation of your property. The citizens voted it down overwhelmingly.

Three months later, they held a special election just for that. Again, defeated.

Three months later, yet another special election, yet another defeat.

Now, again, three months later, they tried again.

And succeeded. I just did the math and it is going to cost me an extra $1,580 a year just for this damn extra school tax (on top of the "renewal levy" which was past last year that cost over $1,000 a year from me).

I'm livid. This is ridiculous. I'm being taxed out of my home. I pay my bills. I pay for the house. I pay for the new roof. The school just gets to reap the money.

I can't afford to keep my heat above 58 degrees at night. The school keeps their thermostats set at 70 around-the clock. Because they're spending MY money.

High-Tech Reading

2008-02-28T20:30:00.002-05:00

Not too long ago, Amazon.com created a nifty little gadget called the Kindle.

It’s basically a high-priced, high-tech e-Book reader. And when I say high-priced, I’m not foolin’ ya. The sucker costs $400 and all it does is display electronic books and magazines.

Now, when it comes to tech gadgets, I’m the guru. I love ‘em all. So naturally, I couldn’t wait to place my order with Amazon, right?

Wrong.

First, the price is ridiculous. $400 just for the machine? On top of that, you still have to pay for each book.

Secondly, this thing does nothing except display books. In this day and age, why would I carry extra stuff in my pockets?

Which is precisely why I love my cell phone. It does everything.

Of course, it is a great phone.
It’s a Pocket PC which means I can create and edit any Microsoft Word, Excel or Powerpoint document. Of course, it has it’s own keyboard, but it also has handwriting recognition on its touch screen.
It has a camera and a video and speech recorders.
It has GPS, Google Maps, and the Internet complete with broadband speeds.
It syncs with my Outlook calendar, contacts, and checks for email every 5 minutes.
And, of course, it has an eBook reader.

All this for half the price of the Kindle.

But does it work well?

Oh Hell yeah. I decided to try an old Stephen King book which I read over ten years ago. I figured that if I found myself having a difficult time concentrating on reading a book on a small 3 inch LCD screen, then it wouldn’t matter because I’d already know the story.

Well, it didn’t take long before I became totally immersed in the story. I forgot I was holding a cell phone and tapping a screen occasionally instead of turning a page. I was just totally hooked.

Then, the best part of the eBook came to light. I went to bed and instead of holding a 1,000-page tome while trying to make sure the light hit the page just right would make my arms just drop. Now, I hold a 3-ounce cell phone and read myself into oblivion. As an added bonus, I don’t even need to have my bed lamp on. When my eyes glaze over and I drift off to sleep, the phone shuts itself off after a few minutes. The next morning, I tap the screen and there’s the book, just where I left off. It holds the bookmarks in memory even through battery changes.

Amazon can keep their $400. I’m in love with my cell phone.

Their Concrete Angel

2008-02-17T22:06:00.002-05:00

I can't believe it's been 4 years since Eric passed away.

Every year, we purchase flowers to lay upon a concrete angel which I put in the front yard as a "memorial" for Eric since his actual grave is in Virginia Beach.

We say a few words, place the flowers on the angel, then walk away. It's not much, but it's one of the few things I can do to help keep Eric involved in his daughters' lives.

The next day, we got slammed with a snowstorm and the girls were without school for 3 days. The poor angel seemed to take the brunt of the storm.

I Wanna Be A Time Traveler

2008-02-09T01:17:00.000-05:00

For what it's worth, I know that Einstein had the same 24 hours in a day that I do. But he was a genius and I'm not. He was also apparently a hell of a lot better at budgeting those elusive 24 hours than I am.

As for me, I spend nearly every night typing my little heart out until well after most folks are snug in their comfy beds.

I get sidetracked. I click on Google so I can look up the proper spelling of a word (for what it's worth, the doctor keeps dictating "protruberance" and I knew it was really "protuberance" but I still had to double check) and suddenly an interesting headline on my homepage will catch my eye. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Even the UNinteresting headlines catch my eye when I don't feel like working. A half hour later, I finally get my fingers back to the keyboard and type a bit more.

Would I crawl out of my warm and toasty bed to look up a story on how the USB port design on the new MacBook Air laptop is woefully inadequate? No. But if I look up that stupid article at 2 p.m., then that means I've got to stay up an extra 15 minutes later. It's all about budgeting!

So, if I ever stumble across a good article on TechDirt or Wired about how to perform time travel, I'm gonna use my newly-budgeted 30 minutes of "surf time" to find out how to time travel. Because then, of course, I can get as sidetracked as I want and I'll still have all the time in the world to do the stuff that I have to do.

Maybe that means I might even post a blog entry more than once a week.

From a Fan to a Fanny

2008-02-03T21:41:00.000-05:00

One of the projects I've had on my self-imposed "honeydew list" (besides finding a honey to ask me to do things) is replace the ceiling fan in Beth's bedroom.

For the past year or so, if the fan was off (or on low or medium speeds), the lights would flicker like mad. Beth's room is scary enough, we didn't need to add the haunted house strobe light effect to make it worse. So, summer and winter, she'd run her fan at high speed just so she could have the lights on. We finally got around to fixing it.

Because I've apparently done some internal damage to my shoulder muscles/tendons recently, I struggle to have my arms above my head. No problem...Beth has a tallish boyfriend who could help.

I told him the good news - "Corey, guess what? You get to spend about an hour in Beth's room this weekend!" I neglected to tell him that the bad news was that Beth's Mom and Grandma would both be in there, too.

Indeed, Corey did the few things I asked, but most of the time, he just flopped on the Bed while I did what was needed and waited for my next request for help.

Just as I was finishing the last little task, Grandma happened to glance over and saw that Corey and Beth were flopped on the bed and Corey had his hand on Beth's butt so that his hand was actually cupping underneath. Grandma screamed at him. And I was appalled. If he did this while we were in the room, what the hell does he do while we're away?

Corey moved his hand and Beth laughed maniacally, but it was one of those laughs where you can tell she's really just covering up for that fact that she is uncomfortable.

Later, Beth said to me that she really was not happy about what he did, but Corey has a hard time accepting the word "no." Beth has a hard time being forceful about it. I don't think he's smart enough to understand that by making her uncomfortable, he's pushing her away, but I've been a teenage girl, and I know what she is feeling.

Corey's a nice kid. He adores Beth and she feels the same way toward him. But the fact that he's a 17-year-old boy who can only think about one thing drives me crazy. Get a life or at least get some interests other than my daughter's body!

Oh, and the ceiling fan? It buzzed wickedly after it was all put together. Drat. Later that night, I replaced the wall switch which operated the thing and all was fixed. That probably means the damn ceiling fan didn't need replaced in the first place...just the wall switch. Double Drat!

Leaving an Impression

2008-02-01T23:24:00.000-05:00

One of the best things about my job is the fact that I can roll out of bed and stumble bleary-eyed to my desk a mere 20 feet away. Heck, I don't even have to brush my teeth, if I don't wanna.

Usually I type for about an hour, sucking down my Senseo, until my body wakes up enough to hop into the shower.

After that, I have two choices. If I plan to go anywhere during the day, I put on my "uniform." That consists of a polo shirt onto which I've embroidered my company name. Heck, it's free advertising, right? On days I plan to stay home, I opt for pure comfort...sweat pants and a t-shirt. And since there's not an iota of comfort in a brassiere, it definitely doesn't come out of my dresser. That's right, I let my boobs hang low and wiggle to and fro.

Since Ohio was blanketed under a Winter Weather Advisory today, I knew my butt was gonna be Velcroed to my desk chair, so I stuck with the old "sweats and t-shirt" plan.

Unfortunately, plans don't always go...well, according to plan.

My doorbell rings.

Assuming it is someone soliciting for a charity or some other useless nonsense (yeah, I'm a hardened soul), I open the front door, only to find Dr. N, a client I've had for 5 years. And I'm standing there in jammie pants, no socks, a ratty t-shirt, and no bra. Yeah, that's me, I'm a true professional.

Ugh.

My Career in Money Laundering

2008-01-31T21:12:00.000-05:00

The other day, my daughter said she was finally ready to buy a new camera. The only problem is that she'd need to tap into her "sticky money" stash.

What, you may ask, is "sticky money?" Well...

Shortly before Christmas, my brother was visiting for dinner and I made the mistake of mentioning to Heather and Beth that they would have money after Christmas because Uncle Brian and Grandpa always give them each a hundred dollar bill.

I learned a lesson that day. Don't ever presume to tell Uncle Brian what he is giving to the girls. Because he won't. He promised then and there that under absolutely no terms would he give them a hundred dollar bill.

Flash forward to Christmas morning.

After opening everything else, Uncle Brian hands each girl a box. Hmmm. The box is way too big for a hundred dollar bill. I guess he told the truth.

After unwrapping the gift wrap, there was a layer of newsprint totally covered with clear packing tape.
Ten minutes later, they finally get to the next layer...another layer of newsprint covered with packing tape.

And another layer of newsprint and tape.

And yet another layer of newsprint and tape. Sheesh.

Finally, we see my brother's devious mind in action. The next layer is a bunch of single dollar bills adhesive sprayed to the outside of the box.

...And to the INSIDE of the box, too. The girls had to be extremely careful removing those dollars so they wouldn't rip.

The 99 dollar bills that were glued to the box was just wrapping, of course. Inside the box, it is stuffed to the brim with balled up newspaper, but we could hear something clattering at the bottom, so the girls carefully went through every piece of paper until they finally found their gift at the bottom...four quarters. See, he didn't give them a hundred dollar bill, he simply gave them a dollar. And it only took 30 minutes to open the gift.

Do you realize how sticky those dollars were? Sticky enough that we tried (unsuccessfully, I might add) to wash them.

Store clerks really don't like sticky money, we've discovered.

Fixin' To Get My Fix

2008-01-24T20:43:00.000-05:00

Virtually everyone I know has a drug problem.

Some folks can’t get through an evening with their kids without a glass or three of Chardonnay.

Others need some Doggy Downers to help them sleep at night (and invariably require Puppy Uppers to wake ‘em up in the morning).

Some have to sneak out to the patio to set fire to a cancer stick because the receptors in their brains have told them they can’t survive without a bit of nicotine.

So what is the most common drug people take in America? Oh, I don’t have any proof, but I have a feeling caffeine would be pretty damn near the top of the list.

Am I addicted to caffeine? Nope. I can yawn my way through a day and suffer with barely a symptom. But why go caffeine-less when my foamy cup of Senseo tastes so good?

When I'm not in the mood for a cup of Joe, I've found another novel way to get a quick jolt of Up-And-At-‘Em. May I introduce you to “Caffeinated Jell-O Shots.”

The premise is simple:

Take 2 boxes of Jell-O, a cup of boiling water, and 400 mg of crushed NoDoze pills and refrigerate to make a yummy treat.

Now if I only had some chocolate-covered espresso beans, I’d be all set.

So, is that a GAS fireplace?

2008-01-19T22:37:00.000-05:00

After an enjoyable day spent galavanting around town doing a bit of shopping, my mom and I decided to stop and have lunch at a decidedly artery-clogging but oh-so-delightful greasy food diner.

Later, we came home and chose to catch up on a few DVDs while basking in the glow of a fire.

As Mom was bent over adding another log to the fire, the culmination of a basket of onion rings, cole slaw, and a big old greasy burger finally caught up with her. Those nasty little gas bubbles gurgling in her tummy decided to make a hasty, not to mention rather loud, escape from the nearest exit possible.

I don't know which was louder...the sound of her flatulence or the sound of her cackling with laughter.

You know how people used to light a match to try to offset the odiferous remnants of their noxious rectal gaseous outbursts? Hell, we didn't need a match, we needed the whole fire!

Hospitals Make Me Sick

2008-01-09T19:42:00.000-05:00

In a weird set of coincidences, two of my aunts ended up at the hospital today, each undergoing surgery. Both of the surgeries were pre-planned. The hospital insisted that they each have rides to and from the hospital and also have someone from the family waiting inside of the hospital the entire time.

Okay.

The problem was that they won't tell you the time of the surgery until the evening prior to the procedure. That sure makes it tough on the family members to plan ahead. But ya know what? Good old Union Hospital doesn't care. They're the only hospital around and they know you're stuck and they'll get your Medicare dollars no matter how sucky their service is.

Fine.

So, yesterday they call. Aunt Jeannette's surgery is scheduled for 1:30. My mom agrees to take her. Aunt Margaret's surgery is set for 5:00. She doesn't need a ride since she's an inpatient, but she still needs family waiting at the hospital. No problem. Her son is going to babysit his grandkids in the afternoon, but he'll be done with that and meet her by 4:30 before she gets wheeled away for the deep sleep.

At 10:30, Mom gets a phone call from Aunt Jeannette. The hospital just called and they've moved her procedure up to 11:00, can she hurry? Sheesh. If WE tried to change an appointment time, they'd cancel the surgery and charge us $20 for an "inconvenience charge." But again, they're the only Chop Shop in town and they can do what they want.

Mom opts to spray a quick dash of perfume in lieu of her planned shower, but fortunately for all who meet her, she still takes the time to brush her pearly whites.

After returning from the hospital, we discover that instead of doing Aunt Margaret's surgery at 5:00 like planned, they wheeled her out of the room at 1:30 while she is protesting saying her son isn't there yet (now we know why patients need anti-anxiety meds before surgery - just so they can deal with the hospital's rigamarole!). Since nobody else was available, Aunt Jeannette (who had already been the victim of Union Hospital's questionable appointment rescheduling) ended up being the "designated family member" for Aunt Margaret's surgery until her son could make it. Hmmmph. What a way to recover, eh?

The Internet Generation

2008-01-08T20:55:00.000-05:00

Ten years ago, when schools started to actually suggest that kids would need the Internet for school work, parents and grandparents balked at the idea. "They can't make you have a computer!"

It turns out that they can. Sure, they can't insist that you have it in your house, but there are enough places with free Internet access (think library) that they indeed can insist the Web be a presence in your child's life.

Me, being the techno-geek that I am, never had a problem. I couldn't wait to get my first computer (a good old DOS system back in 1991), and have been upgrading my paychecks away ever since. My kids have always had computers in front of them. They used to be little Geek Wannabes, but now they are full-fledged gadget gurus just like their mom.

I've always heard people say that you shouldn't let your kids have the Internet in their bedrooms. I agreed with them...but still set my little beasties up with a system in their little dungeons anyway. My kids were good kids, after all. They wouldn't do anything bad. And I'd make sure that bad folks couldn't get at 'em.

Heh, heh, heh. Well, first my little 11-year-old showed me the error of my ways. If I didn't think Heather was smart before, she sure proved it by showing me exactly how computer savvy she was. Although I was apalled at her behavior, I admit to being very so slightly proud of the ingenious ways she had of bypassing my parental controls. Thus, she lost computer privileges for a year. The hardest year of her life.

Now, she's earned back Internet privileges with the caveat that she have this Web access sitting a mere five feet from her Mommie Dearest. I even switched rooms for my office just so she could have a desk set up for her Internet access.

Problem solved, right?

Ummm, that would be a no.

I do, after all, have two children. My darling 16-year-old has decided to start acting like a snot-faced teenager who doesn't have to follow the rules. The worst part wasn't necessarily which sites she was visiting, it was just how freakin' much time she spent on the computer. For a girl who has college class coursework in her sophomore year, she really didn't have a lot of free time to spare. Add to that mix a new boyfriend, and a slew of other folks who were all attached to her monitor via IM, and I barely ever saw poor Beth.

I kept threatening her. "If you don't sign off of that damn IM, I'm going to take it away from you!" Finally, I'd had enough. I reformatted her computer and she has agreed to NOT set up the Messenger service. In exchange, I'll set up an old piece-of-shit laptop in the rec room for her to use for IM.

There's only one problem with that concept. The POS laptop has the Blue Screen of Death on it. Ugh. Heather has been sweet enough to let Beth use her computer for the night since Beth has a rare evening of no homework.

I know, I know. Beth's a teenager. She can say that she won't use IM in her bedroom. I'm also fully aware that there are plenty of sites that will allow her to use IM without having anything installed on the computer. But she's also aware that I'm a heck of a lot more tech savvy than she is and if I find out about it, she loses the computer in her room completely.

Heather's proof that I mean it.

I'm Lost...But Trying To Find My Way

2008-01-07T23:19:00.000-05:00

After watching yesterday's episode of Desperate Housewives, I got to thinking.

With the abundance of reality programming coming to a boob tube near you in the upcoming months, I started to think that ABC screwed up (again) with their programming.

They've had 24 hours a day of programming to fill. Let's face it, they haven't really been doing a great job of it lately. I mean, 'cmon, which Neanderthal in the ABC Studios actually thought that Cavemen would make for Must See TV?

So, now that the strike has forced all of the networks to come up with creative programming, why didn't they have the foresight to do reruns of their GOOD shows?

They were lucky to have eight (I think) episodes of Lost filmed before the Writer's strike occurred. Great. But 8 hours of good TV is certainly just a drop in the bucket. And after last year's chopped up season (three mini seasons just so they could make sure to hit every Sweeps Week available) and the extra long wait for season 4, many loyal Lost fans have decided that they don't even remember enough about what happened last to put it on their TiVo Queue.

I'm not one of those. I'm looking forward to Season 4. But hell, I couldn't even remember anything about what happened last May when the last episode aired.

So why isn't ABC using this time of dismal programming to rerun the series in its entirety straight through. Half of their viewers use a DVR nowadays, so they could run maybe 2 or 3 episodes a week. Run repeats at odd hours, too. Just get the show back on the TV and keep pumping the fact that Season 4 starts in a few weeks. Anything is better than watching American Gladiator, right?

Fortunately, ABC DID do something right. They put the whole series up on the Internet...for free, I might add...just to accommodate the junkie in all of us. I don't have time to watch season 1 or 2, but I started season 3 tonight and plan to have a total rehash by January 30th.

Jack and Sawyer and Kate...come to mama.

Desperate for the New Season

2008-01-06T22:14:00.000-05:00

After last month's mega-cliffhanger ending on Desperate Housewives, I've waited and waited to see what would happen to poor Lynnette's husband and children.

Considering the havoc that the writers' strike has wreaked with the TV schedule, I thought ABC was pretty savvy with the way they were able to end the season early and still manage to leave viewers saying "ohmigod! What do you think happened??" Most of the TV shows that have had the forced hiatus have ended up just dropping the episodes where they were. And to be honest, I don't care if I catch up with them or not once the strike is over.

But I couldn't wait to take a return trip to Wisteria Lane, just to find out who croaked.

I was thrilled to discover that tonight would be a new episode of Desperate Housewives. According to www.tv.com (man, I love that site), it's apparently the last new episode for the foreseeable future. So why did those fools clear up every bit of the cliffhanger all in the first 5 minutes?

Now that Penny poked her head out of the rubble, followed by Parker, Porter, Preston and Kayla (is that her name? I can't quite remember) and finally Tom, I'm not the least bit anxious to find out what happens next. Everything has already happened. Why in the world didn't they save this episode for next season?

Fools.

Well, I'll still watch. I just won't be manic about it.

Just hurry up and bring back the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815!

Isn't Slavery Illegal?

2008-01-05T23:04:00.000-05:00

2007 wasn't such a hot year for me financially.

I had a temporary transcription account with a local Internal Medicine practice, but they kept reminding me that they were going to switch over to "electronic medical records" soon, which is precisely how I've lost my last 4 accounts. Sure 'nuff, come September, my fanny had a big old boot print on it as they kicked me out the door.

At first, I just tried to get a decent job.

A month later, I just tried to get ANY job. I went from making $25 an hour to applying as a minimum wage hack at a gas station. And STILL couldn't get hired.

Another month later, I was brushing up on my bank robbery skills because the bills were piling up and the bank account was dwindling. I started living by credit card. The fact that Christmas was coming was a joke. If I couldn't pay the house payment, I sure as heck couldn't fill stockings with gifts. Fortunately, my kids understood.

Finally, the planets aligned and the gods were smiling upon me. Not only was I offered a job, it was another work-from-home medical transcription job. YAY! Unfortunately, there were a bunch of delays and I didn't start working for them for yet another month. Finally, though, I started. It's a dream job. But let's face it, any job where I don't have to strap a brassiere around my dirty pillows is a good job.

The only problem is that they seem to have misplaced my paycheck. Again. I've worked there for four weeks and I've yet to see a single dime. And the boss is on the ski slopes stranded in Tahoe until the blizzard clears.

Looks like I whip out the old credit card once again.

She Who Giveth Shall Taketh Away

2008-01-04T21:16:00.000-05:00

Oh, my sweet little Beth. She's the kinda girl every mom dreams of having. She's fun. She's incredibly intelligent. She has compassion for everyone she meets. She's loving. And I never have to worry about her getting in trouble.

Ummm, well, scratch that.

She's still fun, sweet, smart, loving, and compassionate. She's also hip deep in Feces River.

I gave Beth permission to spend the night with her friend, Chelsie. Even better, I let Beth drive her car to Chelsie's house. She was on cloud nine. Of course, only angels can stay in the clouds, and tonight, Beth was no angel. She plummeted back to Earth and landed right on her rump.

When I gave Beth permission to drive, I gave her some rules. Not everyone would agree with me on these rules, but that doesn't matter. I'm the mom, which means I'm the keeper of the keys.

First Rule - Don't get behind the wheel unless you have already received permission from me to go somewhere.

Second Rule - You are too inexperienced to have your friends in the car with you, because they will definitely be a distraction. After you've been driving for a month or so, we'll probably let this rule go.

Third Rule - Call as soon as you arrive (or before you leave) so I don't have to panic needlessly.

So, Beth drives off to go to Chelsie's house. My heart was wrenching. I came in to the house and said to my mom, "I just wanna follow her and make sure everything is okay!" Of course, I didn't do that. Instead, I ran an errand for her sister. When I came back, though, I decided to bypass my driveway and head up the road for a mile just to make sure that Beth parked the car on the side street like I instructed and make sure she locked the car.

Hmmm. The car isn't there.

I call home and my mom answers the phone. "Did Beth call?" Nope.

Fortunately, being a child of the new millennium, Beth carries around a set of "electronic handcuffs" in her purse thanks to my overpriced Alltel family plan. I dial her number and she answers. "Where are you??"

I can hear the slight hint of panic in her voice. "I'm at the library. I told you I was going to stop here on the way to Chelsie's and my car stalled out."

Okay, that's reasonable. She has an old car and it's been having starter problems. "Don't worry, I'm just around the corner, I'll be there in 30 seconds." That's when her slight panic turned to full-fledged freak-out mode. She hung up and moments later I pull in to the library parking lot. She gets out of the car and I give the ignition a try, but it won't start for me, either.

She also informs me that she needs me to drive home to get her medicine which she forgot. "No problem, I've got the prescription right here. I'll just take you to Chelsie's right now and I'll get your car later."

Her cell phone rings. It's Chelsie. I'd imagine she's probably trying to figure out why Beth is 45 minutes late. I say, "tell her we're on our way."

Suddenly, though, Chelsie seems to be in more of a panic than Beth. Why? Because she's hiding in the trees a mere 10 feet from Beth's car. Without shoes. In the snow. Yeah, barefoot in the snow. Why? Because Chelsie's shoes are inexplicably locked in Beth's trunk. Did I mention Beth has a two-seater sportscar?

Chelsie says "don't leave!!!" So Beth explains that she's behind the trees. I glare at my formerly angelic daughter and I said, "SPILL IT!"

Beth just couldn't stand the thought of not tooling around town with one of her best friends in tow. When they get to the library, the car won't start (I call that karma...or car-ma, as the case may be) and she's stuck.

Since they need me to come and get the car started, Beth decided to try to hide Chelsie in the trunk. Umm, that'd never work. Even if Chelsie was the size of pre-preggers Nichole Richie, she wouldn't fit in this teeny trunk.

But when I call and say I'm on my way, Chelsie decides to make a run for it and hide so Beth can continue with her little charade. In the meantime, she loses her shoes. Beth, ever the little genius, decides to hide the shoes in the car instead of throwing them to her soon-to-be-frostbitten friend. Chelsie was willing to go along with this little scheme until she saw that I was putting Beth in my car and we were taking off for her house. A mile is a long way to walk barefoot in the snow, after all.

The keys, which Beth finally earned after 11 months of driving practice...they're mine. At least for now.

Oh Beth. I love you. I'm mad as hell at you, but I still love you.

I just don't trust you anymore.

Caucus Fever

2008-01-03T20:11:00.000-05:00

It's Caucus Night in Iowa.

I, of course, am not presently in Iowa. I'm in frigid Ohio watching the festivities play out on the Internet.

I'm amazed at how much more politicized my brain has become in the last decade. Sure, I've voted in every election since I turned 18, but most of the time, I just didn't really care that much. I figured the politicians were smarter than I was, and the newly elected official would do the right stuff.

Now, however, after 7 years of being Bushwhacked, my opinion has changed enormously. Now, more than ever, I know that the politician who gets elected isn't necessarily the right one for the job. It's the one who can (usually) buy the best vote. And after he (or she, of course) is elected, his decisions are based upon the desire of whichever supporter can come up with the most green. And by that, I certainly don't mean anything environmental.

By the time Bill Clinton was elected to his second term in office, I decided he was just about the best damn president this country could ever hope to have, which is ironic because I didn't vote for him during the first election. Was he perfect? Hell no. He did, after all, create the "Federal Defense of Marriage Act" for which I can never forgive. And he was a horrible husband. But he wasn't elected as a National Husband. He was elected as the National Leader. In that capacity, he excelled. He balanced the budget for the first time in...well, for the first time, ever. Unemployment dropped, wages rose, the stock market went through the roof. I longed to repeal the presidential term limits, just so Big Bill could preside over us longer.

Then, all hell broke loose because Bush entered the Oval Office. He systematically destroyed everything that had been accomplished. To say that our country is worse off now than 8 years ago is like saying that I need singing lessons...it's the understatement of the year.

Just about the only thing that Bush has done right is to turn a bunch of hard-nosed Republicans into Democrats. People who have never veered from the Republican Party have decided that they just can't leave their blinders on any longer and they've decided to jump ship and swim to higher ground. Let's just hope they keep that feeling next year.

So, back to Iowa. For the Democrats, it's virtually a 3-way tie. I like all three candidates and yet, I'm going to be disappointed if Hillary doesn't win. Not because she's a chick (and let's face it, I do have a thing for chicks). It's because everyone teased about how she acted like President when her husband was in the White House. I have a feeling she did have quite a bit to do with the success of the 90s, and I think she can work that same magic all over again. And the way the United States is right now, magic is just about the only thing that can help.

Her Rite of Passage

2008-01-02T23:38:00.000-05:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. My daughter is a teenager and that means she's gonna do it. After all, most teenagers Beth's age do it, right?

I know. But it doesn't mean I WANT her to do it. I certainly know I'm not ready for her to do it.

She says she'll be careful.

And I know she will. But I still don't want her to do it. I'm scared she'll get hurt.

She's still my little baby girl, so how can she possibly be ready for this huge milestone?

But no matter how much I want her to wait, it's time for her to grow up.

It's time for her to drive.

Yep, little baby Beth isn't so little anymore. She came back from the Bureau of Motor Vehicles today with a shiny new driver's license.

All of those weeks of practicing the maneuverability test (parallel parking) paid off. Not only did she pass that portion without any points taken off, she passed the regular part of the driving test with a perfect score as well.

Tonight, she took her first solo drive. She went from our garage all the way to the church for Youth Group and back. Not a single scratch. Yep, I checked.

Sigh.

Okay, Beth, do you suppose you could stop growing up so fast now??

Starting Over

2008-01-01T19:54:00.001-05:00

Say hello to the blogging newbie.

Well, not quite. I used to be quite adept at making the boring little minutiae of my life seem rather unboring in my little niche on the web. But for apparently no reason at all, my blogging fingers went silent and I disappeared.

Something amazing happened. My friends missed me. They emailed and said "come back!" I, being the coward that I am, came up with lame excuses for not writing. Worse yet, sometimes I didn't even respond to the emails. Why? Because I couldn't come up with a reason for not doing something I enjoyed.

I've wanted to start over, to reclaim this little piece of cyber property which gave me such delight for a few years. On this traditional day of starting things anew, I decided it was time.

Welcome back to me.