Happy New Year!

Your Merry Christmas may have depended on what others did for you, but your Happy New Year depends on what you do for others.

Be safe.

Hey God

PrompTuesday is back and for this Sandiegomomma has a doozie. She asks the following -
Write a story about this guy. Or a poem. Or a rumination. Give him some background, some context. And because I couldn’t leave well enough alone, I’ve provided this song snippet — one of my top 10s — to shadow the photo. I don’t know — the two seem to go together. Hopefully, one or the other will inspire you.

Hey God – You there? I need some help. I need 90 days before she lets me see the kids. It’s been 59 days and I know I am more than half way there, but today is harder and I don’t know why I’m struggling. I miss my wife, my kids, and my home. I can’t sleep, I can’t stop crying, and I really just want to go back to being ten again when things were so much easier. I know, I know…it's time to grow up, things change, and I got to get it together. I’m working on it, really I am, and I just need a little help. You think I should ask the blonde taking my picture what her name is? Maybe another day because for now I gotta walk the line.

Rudolph

It would appear that I am fitting into the Christmas holiday just perfect because my nose looks just like Rudolph's nose.

It all started late Christmas afternoon when the rugrat's temperature spiked to 104.7! Can you say YUCK! I was very proud of myself because I didn't freak out and run him to the emergency room. I managed to lower his temperature myself with a cool bath, wash cloths, and Tylenol. The next day we saw the on call doctor and we got him on an antibiotic regimen. That evening the dreadful illness got a hold of me and laid me O-U-T! Then it hit hubby who actually called into work sick today, which is a pretty big deal for him because he never, never, calls into work sick. We are still not at 100% but it's getting better. Luckily it did not get our 11 year old and now he is with his mother and probably free and clear...knock on wood. [On another note, don't forget to remind me to tell you all about Christmas breakfast with my husband's ex wife and family. It was pretty cool and even ending with a hug!] So, needless to say this wave of illness was very, very yucky! This brings me to my next point and subject of my last post...

Why get a flu shot? You know, I never got flu shot until the rugrat came. His pediatrician freaked me and tapped into my neuroses telling me that anyone around the elderly or an infant should always get a flu shot because the flu could be deadly for them. So flu shot I got the last two years. However, after this bout of illness I will seriously contemplate not getting a flu shot next year because I don't remember the last time I was this sick. Today, I talked to my grandfather who said, "Take some brandy and hot water and you'll be fine in the morning." I laughed when he said it. He rebuffed my laughter with, "No, no, no it's true. Try it." You know what...it sounds tempting.

Tell me...

why get a flu shot if you're going to get the flu?

I hope, I hope, I hope...

Is this the making of a doctor or what?

Remember this

Balls

The stage was set...Santa dropped off the mail truck at about 2:30 a.m. Christmas morning.

The next morning...

"What is it?" he asks looking perplexed.

"It's a mail truck!"

I couldn't sleep the night before because I was so excited and I haven't felt like that since I was 10! It was an awesome feeling! The excitement turned adreneline got me up, out of bed, and showered before he woke up Christmas morning. That is huge because I don't do mornings - I think having to get up in the morning is a conspiracy the government is conducting - It's amazing what children do for us isn't it?

Merry Christmas!

It's a Wonderful Life

We watched it tonight while preparing for tomorrow's breakfast, me and the hubby. There is something about this movie that does it for me EVERY single time. I really love that hubby likes it too and it gets him as well. Tonight he reminded me that he had never watched it until me and that made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

I remember first watching it in the seventh grade. All the kids were excited that we would be watching a movie for two hours and not doing any classwork. I remember it like it was yesterday. It still affects me the same every year.

If you have never seen it, I suggest you do. It makes me realize just how extremely important every single person is and to be thankful for them. Because in some way each and every one of us is affecting the other.

Blessings to all.

Christmas Countdown

Christmas breakfast is at 10:30 a.m.

36 hours and counting...

Christmas Traditions

We have started our own Christmas tradition. It started last year as a trial run and this year we are doing it again - Christmas breakfast! I mean BREAKFAST! Eggs, bacon, french toast casserole, bagels, muffins and other baked goods, with fruit, juice, coffee, and whatever grabs your fancy. It is an open invitation to all family and friends. They need not bring a thing. Just come, eat, and be merry. We only ask that they let us know a couple of days ahead of time so we know how much food to have.

Among the attendees this year - my husband's ex wife. Nice.

Show of hands from anybody that will be sharing Christmas with your spouse's ex? I think I'm kinda nervous. Any tips? Although she has got to feel a little nervous too don't you think? Either way I think it's good for our 11-year-old. His mom and dad together on Christmas. He'll like that. What do you think? I think it will be kinda cool...yah that's why we did it. It's not like it hasn't happened before. This ought to be interesting.

On another note, I got three more days before he gets the mail truck. Oh my gosh...I could eat him up every time he lowers his head and whispers into his hand, "mail twuck." He is simply scrumptious!!

Army of Women

The Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation and the Avon Foundation, a global leader in breast cancer research, joined forces to launch the Love/Avon Army of Women.

Our revolutionary initiative has two key goals:

*To recruit one million healthy women of every age and ethnicity, including breast cancer survivors and women at high-risk for the disease, to partner with breast cancer researchers and directly participate in the research that will eradicate breast cancer once and for all.

*To challenge the scientific community to expand its current focus to include breast cancer prevention research conducted on healthy women.

Join us in this movement that will take us beyond a cure by creating new opportunities to study what causes breast cancer—and how to prevent it.

My Secret

Sandiegomomma had a PROMPTuesday a few days ago. She asked -

Tell me a secret. Of course, I’d prefer it be a true secret. And about you. But I know where that can lead, and perhaps you’re not prepared for it. So let me addendum this: If you’d rather, write about someone who has a secret. Maybe a character you’ve concocted. Or someone in your family or a friend has a secret that you tell us all about fiction-style (or not, even better!).

But I couldn't come up with a secret to divulge. I got some good ones too, some of them I suspect people would think pretty juicy, but that is why they are secrets.

Anyhoo...I promised myself I would do every PROMPTuesday and I'm gonna try my best to stick to it! Soooo...in upholding my promise to myself my submission for last Tuesday's prompt is this -

I put a poll up asking for readers to vote. E-card or Traditional card. I got one vote! ONE! Why didn't anyone vote? Sheeshh! It's not that difficult. You just hit the radio button. You didn't even have to read my explanation. Still I got one vote! My secret - the one vote was me!

PHHTTTT!

me likee

We were most definitely about due for a new camera. That last one was from seven years ago and we paid way too much money for it! This one was about $100 and fancier to boot! As much as I hate to admit it...this camera was a must. Go through Christmas this year without a camera? Preposterous!! The rugrat is just now getting IT. Know what I mean? He is so excited about Christmas and I love it, love it, love it. He gets excited when we plug in the Christmas tree and the lights come on. That's what I call being excited about Christmas. It's like reliving it all over again myself...the magic, the spirit, the thrill...it brings back some really great memories for me. What's really cool is that now I get to be on the opposite side of the magic. I gotta say...it's awesome! Amazingly, I'm more exciterated than I've ever been and it is not all about me.

Oh my Gah!

Eight days before Christmas...

Houston, we've had a problem!

Magic!

I think this is going to be my favorite Christmas. Jake will be three in January and for the first time TOTALLY into Christmas. This was his third year with Santa and when he saw him he gave him a hug...so incredibly cute!

Months ago we were at The Toy Professor, a toy shop in the mall, when he found a little metal mail truck. He was fascinated with it, which was unusal because usually he likes the train table in the back of the store. However, on this particular day something caught his eye and he spent the whole time with that mail truck in his hand. We had a heck of a time getting him to put it back and leave the store without a complete meltdown. Since then when he is asked what he wants Santa to bring him he replies in a whisper, "mail twuck."

I picked it up Friday. I think I am more excited than he is. I can't wait!!!!!

Traditional or E?

This weekend's family holiday party came with some gifts for the wee one. I find most people do not send thank you cards for the holiday, but do for birthdays. For holidays we usually reciprocate to the giver with a gift as well. However, this time it was a little different. Our children received gifts from a few older couples who we did not buy gifts for (we were informed to not get them anything). Even though we were told about the set up and to not get them a gift I still felt a bit awkward not having anything for them. So I thought about the following...

I took some pictures of the rugrat playing with the gifts he received. I found this great place to send E-cards with pictures. It's called Smilebox. You can either pay $2.99 a card or have the same card sent for free, but with a little advertising on the side bar. I am trying to convince myself that this is a good idea for the following reasons:

1) It is cost effective.
2) The recepient isn't stuck with a picture of a kid they see maybe once a year.
3) They get to see that the child actually played with the toy.
4) They receive a colorful animated holiday picture and note.

Answer me this readers...Traditional card with printed pictures or E-card with pictures? Please go to the side bar and cast your ballot.

What if?

Do you see one of the books I'm currently reading over there? It's the The MOM Inventor Handbook. I love the entrepreneurial spirit. I embody it! I have a notebook where I write all sorts of ideas. I always say, "You never know. It just takes one idea and BAM!" That is the dreamer in me. It is always possible, okay sometimes not probable, but always possible. Yep...that's me! I wouldn't want to be famous or incredibly rich. I don't want much. I just want to pay off my house and be able to take a nice family vacation once a year.

This past weekend was pretty exciting for me! We were at a family holiday party. My husband's father's cousin is this guy. He also invented some sort of surgical stapling system. This guy is awesome! He is so inspiring and encouraging. I love talking with him. We talk about needs, turning into ideas, turning into inventions. I love hearing his story...How he walked into the office of the Vice President of Marketing for Johnson & Johnson with his dinosaur flossing tool and within five minutes she said, "How do we get this on the market?" So awesome!! To me that is what dreams are made of. He is always willing to hear what I have to say and keeps insisting that I forge ahead, it will come, and not to worry. Isn't that encouraging? He says, "Invention happens out of necessity" and that is so very much me. I am always imagining some sort of contraption to get done what needs to get done. Whether it's figuring out how to fix something in the front yard or baking, I'm always thinking something up. I chatted with him this weekend about some of this, that, and the other. He suggested we meet up after the first of the year and offered to make a trip to LA for a meeting.

I am incredibly and officially stoked!!

That's one tired reindeer

Tickle me...

There is a factory in Northern Minnesota which makes the Tickle Me Elmo toys. Lena is hired at The Tickle Me Elmo factory and she reports for her first day promptly at 8:00 am.

The next day at 8:45 am there is a knock at the Personnel Manager's door. The Foreman throws open the door and begins to rant about the new employee. He complains that she is incredibly slow and the whole line is backing up, putting the entire production line behind schedule. The Personnel Manager decides he should see this for himself, so the 2 men march down to the factory floor.

When they get to the factory floor the line is so backed up that there are Tickle Me Elmo's all over the factory floor, which are really beginning to pile up. At the end of the line stands Lena surrounded by mountains of Tickle Me Elmo's. She has a roll of plush Red fabric and a huge bag of small marbles. The 2 men watch in amazement as she cuts a little piece of fabric, wraps it around two marbles and begins to carefully sew the little package between Elmo's legs. The Personnel Manager bursts into laughter. After several minutes of hysterics he pulls himself together and approaches Lena ...

"I'm sorry," he says to her, barely able to keep a straight face, "but I think you misunderstood the instructions I gave you yesterday...your job is to give Elmo two test tickles."

Born 1940 - 1980

I have received the following email many times as I am sure many of you have as well. I read through it every single time because it reminds me just how much easier the world was. I miss it. I miss it for my kids.

Firstly, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.

Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no child proof lids on medicine bottles, doors, or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.

As infants & children we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts, or air bags.

Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread, real butter, and drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day and we were actually OK and returned home.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes after running into the bushes a few times, so we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, DS, 500 channels on cable, videos, DVDs, CDs, cell phones, personal computers, Internet, or chat rooms. WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door, rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

I believe our new generations feel they have a certain sense of entitlement. They are growing up faster at a younger age. They are expecting more because we have more. They don't relish in the simplest joys anymore.

Don't you think the new generations are missing out a bit? I do.

Cringe

I was over at Mommy Pie's today and she was talking about the words she cannot stand. I won't repeat them here so I can prevent this . I wouldn't want her or anyone else with the same aversion to those certain words to have to read them or repeat them in their head.

While reading all about her word aversions I realized that I don't have a real aversion to any words except for c**t and n****r. Those are some gross words! They're kind of curse words, so they don't count. All other words, no problem at all. Sex, poop, body parts, bodily functions...no problem. Need a sex talk with your youngin? I'm your gal...totally not a problem. I think that stems from having to know everything about my own parent's sexual relationship due to the nature of my father's illness. When you have to hear and understand the dynamics of your parent's sexually activities, you can pretty much get past anything.

HOWEVER - What I do have is a HUGE aversion to those wooden spoons that come with ice cream cups or applesauce...BLEGH. I'm shuddering just typing that. Know which ones I'm talking about? It's like using a napkin to wipe your tongue...GROSS! It gives me the heebie jeebies. I can't even watch someone else using one. Unfortunately for me, my almost three-year-old is in that - trying different foods and if he doesn't like it he wipes his mouth out with a napkin - stage. Of course my reaction to this throws him into a fit of deep belly laughter and eggs him on to do it over and over. YE-UCK! Although I must admit the pure uninhibited laugh gets me over the heebie jeebies pretty quickly. How could it not?

A Holiday Limerick

So Mrs. Sandiegomomma is cranky and she has bestowed upon us the duty of a holiday limerick. Uggh! She writes -

What I regret perpetuating upon your writerly person is this: For today’s PROMPTuesday, please compose a holiday limerick.

As you may or may not know, and probably could care less to have knowledge of, is that a limerick is a five-line poem, often obscene in nature (although Hickory Dickory Dock is considered limerick-esque. Unless like so many nursery rhymes, that one too has its roots in blood and sex). In a recent Wikipedia search, I turned up this example:

The limerick packs laughs anatomical
In space that is quite economical,
But the good ones I’ve seen
So seldom are clean,
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

So there you have it. We must write a holiday limerick for today's PrompTuesday. Oh...what to write...what to write....what to write...I'm gonna take a shower and think about it, I'll be back...

Okay, I'm back and here it is -

It is the season to feel Mary
Let’s not forget Beth, June, and Sherry
We’ll drink lots of beer
to celebrate the holiday cheer
and keep our eye out for the cherry

Obscene? Crass? Totally! I must admit that my hunny helped me out with the first line, leave it to a guy, right? Just so you know, the first one he came up with was REALLY obscene. I had to remind him a limerick was obscene not pornographic. Oy!

Today

I'm off in about 10 minutes to pick up the stinker. He wore big boy underpants to school today! Let's hope he did well...cross your fingers. We will then make our way to the store for some salsa because we are having chicken enchiladas tonight and you can't have enchiladas without salsa. Well...hubby can, but he's an "embarrassingly finicky eater" <--- those are his words. After the store we will make our way across town and pick up all the CDs we left at the party site.

That's all folks!

Change

Before After

The only thing in life that is constant is change.

He is growing so quickly :(

Psssstttt....someone is also going poop in the potty! YAY!

SURPRISE!!

Last night we had a sixties themed surprise 60th birthday party for mom!!

It went off without a hitch! She loved it! I've been wanting to post all about it for over a month, but couldn't because...well it was a surprise -

Did you love it mom?

We had the place spruced up like the sixties

My guy - click here to see what he looks like every day Kaitlyn - my best friend Michelle's daughter

Jake the rugratKaitlyn and Jake -

Don't you think most best girlfriends want their kids to magically end up together? Don't roll your eyes - remember the name of the blog you're reading.

He is five years her junior, yet was calling her "Hunny" throughout the night. He'll only be three in January and already a flirt. Sometimes while out to dinner he will ask the waitress, "What's your name?" then "What's your number?" This display of utter complimentary cuteness usually gets us anything we want. I hate having to tell the waitress that when he asks, "What's your number?", he really means how old are you?

Why the Dog Left

Sheeeeesh...and I thought I had a big cat!

Check out the full story here.

Happy Birthday Mom!

My mom is pretty incredible. She has been through so much, yet still manages to keep a smile on her face with a bright outlook. My mother has been abandoned, molested, beaten, deceived, suffered the loss of her own little boy, and cared for a dying man, who most likely tried to take her down with him because he was so sick in the head. By the grace of God she is okay and never contracted HIV - that's another post for another time. With all that she still manages to say, "It could be worse." Can you believe that? Whenever I dissect her life, I shake my head in disbelief because I cannot believe she has endured so much and still manages to be truly happy.

One of the people that make her truly happy is that little guy she is hugging in the picture above. To him she is Grams. It brings me great joy to watch her with him. I was glad for a boy because I felt I could bring her the relationship she missed with her own boy. Now, she doesn't have the hard day to day duties, just all the good stuff of being Grams and she loves every second of it.

I love you mom.

NaBloPoMo

NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month.

So I have committed myself to 31 days of posting. Am I crazy!?! Think I can do it? Go ahead challenge me because that's really all I need is someone to say, "Yah...right...no chance" then it's all over. If no challenges are sent my way I am then left on my own, only to answer to myself, and have egg on my face in front of my millions of readers because I couldn't do it. I hope that is challenge enough. We'll see.

Interestingly, sometimes I lay in bed at night and think of a ton of things to post about, but then I get in front of the looming computer screen and go blank. Let's see if I can remember one...okay got one! - I was watching Friends last night, I love that show it makes me laugh almost every single time, and I got to thinking that just two out of the six are in a successful relationship. Isn't that sad? Two out of six! Are those the statistics were looking at for successful relationships? It's not only sad, but kinda yucky. It just isn't the same as it used to be is it? I envy the couples that clock 40 or 50 plus years together. I have been known to introduce myself to complete strangers just to ask them how long they have been together. I met one couple who were together for 52 years - 52 years! She was sitting in front of him at a doctor's office and he was resting his chin on her shoulder to look over at what she was reading. So fricken cute it was! While talking to them and watching them be playful with each other it choked me up because it was so pure, almost like they were on a honeymoon.

I pray I'm that lucky!

15

Today Sandiegomomma's PrompTuesday is -

So think back to when you were 15. Let the year play itself back to you. Pick one memory — even if it’s just a mere moment that stands out — and write about it.

Ahhhh...15! If only I knew then what I know now. Some of my memories as a 15-year-old are pretty great and some not so great. The most memorable, and not so great, was going from private school to public school. This was my big dose of reality at fifteen. I'll never forget being at the private school, waiting to take my mid-semester exams, and being told I needed to go to the office. While waiting there my father showed up and shortly thereafter I was trailing after him down the hall on our way home while he cursed and yelled the halls - apparently, he hadn't paid tuition for quite some time. So, two weeks later I was in a public school in another town. I went from 300 kids to about 3000 and did not know a soul. I was lost, scared, and left wondering and worrying what would happen next. I remember eating lunch in the locker room so no one would see me eating alone (sheesh...I can't believe I just typed that). I learned quickly that I was just like everyone else. I couldn't pretend that I was one of the elite. We went from buying homes and going to private school to renting apartments and going to public school. Not that there is a thing wrong with that, which I know now, but at 15 years old it's the world.

However, when I look back now, I am glad for those times and that year. I wouldn't have two of the closest friends I have today. I wouldn't have met my first innocent love - who I might add I just found recently because I typed his name into yahoo. He is now married to a green eyed beauty and they have an amazing little girl! Hi Matt! Technology amazing, isn't it?

So, I would have to say 15 was a pretty impressionable year for me and although I didn't think it ideal at the time, today I wouldn't change it for the world!

Today

Today is World AIDS Day. I know this and I am acutely aware of it because AIDS touched my world in the most profound way. It took my father from me. Not only did it take his physical body, but it took his mind and soul. It took these precious gifts years before his physical body was gone. The damage he caused while his mind was twisted from dementia was horrendous. I learned a lot about my dad while he was ill and after he died. He was actually a bit of an ass to some. It was hard to learn the most awful traits about a man who I had held in such high regard for so many years. I think he is watching me and thinking, “Man – had she found this all out while I was there, she would have given me a ration of shit!” This is true. I would have been all up in his face about some of his misgivings because he taught me just the opposite of these traits. This is hypocrisy at its finest. He used to tell me I was his emotional and ethical savings account and whenever he was feeling bad about his misgivings he would call and want me to remind him of all his teachings.

Ironically, one of the clinics I transcribe for is an HIV/AIDS clinic. It is informative yet sometimes sad for me. What really blows my mind is there are people that are HIV positive and knowingly having unprotected sex. Yes, it’s true. Some of them are so angry they want to take everyone else down with them. Sad and scary, but true. They know and they just don’t care and the doctors can’t do a thing about it because of privacy laws.

So friends, bloggers, lurkers…whoever…I feel it is my duty to make you acutely aware of AIDS today. Speak up if it is necessary! Your 40-year-old girlfriend is getting divorced and sleeping with new people? Speak up! Suspect your husband or wife is cheating? Speak up! Your kids are reaching puberty and you don't know how to approach the subject? Speak up! We are still learning about HIV/AIDS and although we have come a long, long way, we don’t know everything and have yet to conquer this horrible virus.

Be safe and God bless.

The day after

Here we are. The three of us in the office, the rugrat, hubby, and I. The fourth part of our square is with his mom today. Hubby is filing old bills, the rugrat is playing nice and quiet on the floor with his dumptruck, and I have decided to post.

Our Thanksgiving went very well. We played softball at a park down the street then up to the sister-in-law's house, who lives up the street from us, for turkey and all the fixings. I must say softball was pretty fun. We weren't sure what it would be like with all the rains, but it wasn't bad at all. It was also a nice stroke for my ego to be the most athletic out of all the women and once the girls realized this, they wanted me on their team. It's nice to know I'm good for something with them. You see...there is not one bit of much love loss between me and the women of his family. They are a different breed than me and I am not one to conform or play the game. Sure, I find Brad and Angelina interesting, but that's not all I want to talk about. I like real stuff, heart to heart stuff, getting to know how a person ticks kind of stuff. I know not everyone is like that and that's okay, but NONE of them are like that. Sadly, there's enough of them that there should be at least one out of the bunch who can carry a deep and meaningful conversation, and still no one. Let me give you and example of where they come from -

Me: (talking about my husband) "He comes from a world where he had a live-in housekeeper while growing up so it's really hard to get him to do certain things."

Other: "Well, that is who we are and where we are from. When I was growing up we had a housekeeper. She was colored because that is who did those things, but you know we don't say 'colored' anymore we say 'black', but the blacks don't do that anymore, the Mexicans do it."

Yah! I know...it's okay...I'll wait until you pick your jaw up off the floor because I had to...okay, you back?

So, you see? They are a totally different breed. Where my guy came from, don't know. I'm not sure how he came from that and turned out to be one of the most laid back, down to earth, fun-loving, really great guy he is. Maybe because while he was growing up he was tall, gangly, kind of awkward, and had a taste of humble pie (he had to deal with his brother as a model). However, now things have changed...he has most definitely come into his own and has such a handsome presence about him.

As for the family, well...can't do much about it. I've heard when you marry, you marry the family and although they're not all the great, my husband is pretty darn great and you gotta take the good with the bad right? Thankfully, I don't live with any of them I live with him and living with him...I got it pretty good!

Hoping all my blogging buddies have a wonderfully Happy Thanksgiving!!

Held

It's PrompTuesday and I'm submitting on Tuesday! Even better I played by the rules. Right on! This week Sandiegomomma says -

I took today’s PROMPTuesday from One Word to keep it simple this week (especially after the labyrinth-like PROMPT from last Tuesday).

So this week, write on this: held

Just look at the word. And write. That’s all. (Oh were but it that simple, right?) (Or — “but were it that simple?”) (Is that even a phrase?) (Moral: DON’T OVERTHINK.)

Anyway, since it’s been awhile, let’s check out PROMPTuesday’s rules:

*Try to write your entry in 10 minutes. This encourages top-of-mind, primal thinking before the ego and judgmental brain kick in. Just set a timer, make your kid count to 600 slowly, whatever. It’s an honor system. And I trust you.
*Aim for 250 words or less.
*Please have fun. Don’t put pressure on yourself. Together, let’s rediscover the simple joy in the writing process.
*Post your submission in the comments OR post in your blog and leave a link to your blog in the comments.

HELD

I held him close to me. He was alert and scanning the room as best he could with what little eyesight he had. He couldn’t focus, but I could tell he knew it was me. His breathing was soft and relaxed and the only sound within the silence of the hospital room. It was late and it was just the two of us. No nurses, no doctors, no cafeteria lady, no janitors – just us – a precious moment. At that point, I had no idea how my life was about to change and that I would never forget this most moving memory of becoming a mom for the first time.

A peak into my neuroses...

Okay, so I haven’t posted in a week because I’m stuck on last Tuesday’s PrompTuesday and I feel like I can’t post anything else until I post for PrompTuesday (I promised myself I would do every single prompt). This is a bummer because there were other things I wanted to post, but wouldn’t because of my necessity to post for PrompTuesday. For example – anyone watch Grey’s Anatomy? Last Thursday’s episode – the patient who when she has a headache she thinks it’s a brain tumor, or feels lumps in her breasts then her heart begins to race and she thinks she is having a heart attack – that’s me *head hung low* That is totally 100%, my husband said “That’s you hunny!”, all me. Okay I digress.

There is another Prompt tomorrow and I still have not posted last Tuesdays. I don’t know why I post some then get self conscious and can’t bring myself to hit the publish button at other times. Can you say neurotic? I’ll bet you already have after reading that first paragraph. Unfortunately, I did it again - I wrote something up and felt silly about putting it up. Sandiegomomma thinks she’s insecure? You ain’t got nothing on me sister!! Do you know why we all love you? Because you put it all out there. You give us a glimpse into what some of us sometimes think and feel, but we don’t want to put it out there. We fricken love that you do it because we can relate. I’m going to try to put it out there from now on. Okay, again, I digress.

I have spent the last week hemming, hawing, editing, changing this word, moving that sentence…I know, I know...the rules say you’re supposed to write in 10 minutes or less…blah…blah…blah, but she said screw the rules (okay maybe once), but she still said it and I’m running with that because there is no way I can do this in 10 minutes. I really want to write well. I love how writers can turn a tree into an animal, the wind human, or make an inanimate object come alive. It’s awesome and inspiring. I want to learn to do that and there is no time for a class at this particular juncture so I’m gonna need some instruction from you, my millions of readers. I want some constructive criticism. Anybody up for it? When I write stories I feel like it is contrived, forced, doesn’t seem natural, as if I’m trying too hard and it's obvious and that’s not good writing. I would like any and all offers of what I can do to improve my stories. C’mon be harsh. Tell me to give it up if you feel that way, anything…I need guidance from some of you really awesome writers!

So here is my submission from last week’s PrompTuesday.

Write a story about someone faking a skill to gain the attention of someone else, which only forces him/her into a situation where s/he must use this skill in order to save him/herself from a bigger threat. Include:
a cast-iron lamp and two nuns giggling in the corner.

Swinging

She walked in from outside with her flowing cape bellowing in after her. Thankfully her nervousness was camouflaged by the lasting effects of the shivering cold. A podium with a cast iron lamp stood at the doors of the party with the guests names listed, and she scanned it for her name. Upon entering the dim and smoky atmosphere she found a construction worker slugging a beer. There was a collective light coming from eight adjacent rooms to this one large room, which allowed her to catch sight of him where he was waiting just outside one of the rooms. While she made her way in his direction she glanced to her right and saw a firefighter sharing drinks with two giggling nuns in the corner. Nuns? Some fantasy, she thought. Looking around she found that not everyone was wearing a costume and she felt foolish that she was dressed in one, but he told her to wear one for anonymity.

She had heard of swinging, but had never been to a swing party. At this point it was too late to back out so she had to fake it as best she could. The threat of losing him was at stake and she had to give it a shot. She wanted to show him that she was fun and willing to give anything a try, just like she said. Who knows, maybe she would like it then again maybe she wouldn’t. What she did know was that she was drowning in regret.

As she approached him he stood and kissed her. His eyes were questioning her body language and apprehension, but she continued to fake it and lit up her face with a big smile. With his right hand he reached out and grasped hers as he wrapped his left arm around her body enveloping her in a warm embrace. He led her into the small room with another couple and released the curtain so it would fall closed behind them.

Nostalgia

Okay, so maybe the 80s are to blame for the use of “like.” Fortunately, it would appear that the use of the word is age-related and decreases over time. Thank goodness and thank you J. for your say on that because it like gets on my nerves when I’m talking to my 27-year-old sister.

On the other hand, even though the 80s brought this regrettable locution into our lives, there is something about the 80s that puts me into a mystified fog and brings an immediate smile to my face almost every single time. It is almost impossible for a smile not to spread across my face when I hear music from the 80s – Culture Club, Michael Jackson, power ballads, Def Leppard, Wham – just typing them makes me smile. The 80s was my decade. It was the decade of my most innocent and memorable “first times,” my first kiss, first high heels, first love, first heartbreak, first car, first accident, first apartment…my first of a lot of monumental events in my life. I turned 11 in February 1980 and in 1990 I turned 20 so it was the crux of my first impressions. It had quite a bit to do with helping to form, mold, and shape me into the woman I am. There are some things I wish I would have done differently because I truly understand the meaning of consequences now. However, when I start to regret I remind myself that I wouldn’t be here today and I like here.

This weekend I was at yourememberthat.com and found a clip that had me at that no sound coming out breathlesswheezingcrying – I needed tissue – laugh. It was great! Afterward I thought of some that could use a good laugh so here it is…

The most memorable episode in the long history of Family Feud! The normally unflappable Richard Dawson loses his compsure completely after a contestant gives an absurd answer. So funny! Watch it to the end for the full effect.

Like

When did the word like invade our daily language.

"Today, I went to the mall, to like.. go shopping, and like saw some awesome shoes, but they were like, so expensive. But then like, I got a call on my cell, and like it was my friend, and she was like "Hey, whats going on?' and I was like, 'I need more money,' and she was like, 'Did you need to, like borrow some?' and I was like, so exited!"

Are the 80s to blame? – It’s like Oh My God! – Have you ever sat and listened for the word like while someone is talking? If so, be careful because you might miss what their actually talking about. Listen to our kids talk these days? Sadly, some are not kids they are young adults. They are using the word like incorrectly continually throughout conversation. They absolutely cannot say a single sentence without the insertion of at least 3 uses of the word like.

It drives me like nuts! I was going to put up a YouTube video, but I thought it would like drive you nuts!

Young Love

Today is PROMPTuesday. I actually wrote something up last week, but was to shy to put it up because I'm no writer, but would like to be, and you gotta keep trying right? In addition, all the Obama stuff got me yucky! So, here is my submission for this week.

This picture was done by a very special lady to Sandiegomomma. This PROMPTuesday, make up a story inspired by the picture.

Young Love

They were young, madly in love, and could see their future in each others eyes. Each of them had their own dreams that lingered throughout their souls allowing a vision of the future. The possibility of something better and brighter. However, there they stood in the church waiting to marry, which in turn would derail the individual plans of their lives. They were too unsettled to speak a word aloud, although the wide-eyed look of each spoke louder than any words. It was obvious they were struggling, but they couldn’t bring themselves to discuss the struggle with each other. Then finally…

“Let’s take a walk,” she stammered.

“Okay,” he nervously replied.

They left the church and began to walk the path. There was a deafening silence between them, yet they continued to walk hand in hand, tightly clutching each other not wanting to abandon the love they had for each other. With the decision to leave the church they both knew where the immediate future would take them, but they chose to leave those words alone, for now. They quietly walked through the grassy meadow, over the hills and far away, and were confused because of the relief they felt. Wanting to be together forever and oddly aware, even at such a young age, they needed to attend to the dreams of their souls. He slowed his pace, stopped, and pulled her closer to him. He found her lips with his own and expressed his love without a sound. She reciprocated with the same fervor. He looked deep into her dark brown eyes and could still see himself in her future. He felt safe. They paused and looked back at the church that had such a poetic stance against the hills and without a whisper both knew they would return together, someday.

Enough Obama!

I'm buggin. Enough Obama! I feel like there is something wrong with me because I'm not drenched in tears of joy because we made history. I'm not feeling it. Okay, yes I got emotional when he gave his acceptance speech because it was a pretty grand moment and there has been a huge shift in our country and that is awesome, but I'm not overwhelmed, oddly for me. This greatness that everyone else is feeling, I'm not. All the Barack Obama rhetoric...He's so great...Isn't it wonderful we are able to elect an African-American...I can't stop crying because the world is changing...really? While listening to all the rhetoric something occurred to me, which made me a bit nervous. Shouldn't we be focusing on the fact that he is highly intelligent, has good ideas, and there is great potential? Does anyone else feel like the American people lost the objective of the presidential election? Isn't the objective to elect someone who can improve the country and make it better? Why isn't anyone talking about his ability to do that? Why is everyone talking about him being an African-American? Is anyone worried that people voted for him just because he is African-American? Has that crossed anyone's mind? Am I all alone?

Yes, I get it; I really, really get it. Like I said, I was emotional watching him give that acceptance speech. It is amazing that this country has come this far and I am proud that the American people are able to overcome and elect an African-American. Good for us and good for him! It's about stinkin time! However, I just can't help but think that he was elected for something other than his ability. Even Oprah was quoted as saying, "It's my town. My town's been vibrating all day..."[then Gail tells her to tell a story about how she voted and she says.] "I was voting across from a drug rehab center. And there were some ladies in there that I was like, 'Well, how long have you all been detoxed?' And they said, 'Just last week,' and I said, 'Okay, that's good. That's sober enough.'...And I thought, 'We will even take the drug addicts' vote.'" Really Oprah? You thought - "We will even take the drug addicts' vote." Really? These women who have been out of touch from the world, for God knows how long, because they have been doped up on drugs are truly clear enough, have read and watched, and have the information to choose who would be a better president? Really? Honestly? In addition, this candidate was the first Oprah endorsed and the first time she engaged in the political agenda. Co-wink-a-dink? Don't think so. I have heard statistics that there were 14 million more voters from the last election. How many of those 14 million voters walked in and punched the hole simply because of the color of his skin? I am a big believer in fair and I'm not sure this was all that fair. Just as it wasn't fair years and years ago when people were treated differently because of the color of skin. It was wrong and not fair.

For the record - any person out there that wants to twist this into something else... that's just plain ignorance. Once again, I must repeat myself and say - I like him. I like his ideas. He is an intelligent individual who has good ideas and it would appear that he just may be able to get the job done. I also like that he is humble and a good family man. I have faith that he will do his best to make change like he promised, but I'm not sure he'll be able to do it in one term. Then what?

So people - Lets keep our eye on the ball okay?

Today...

Can you raed tihs?

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer, be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! Now go to sohcol and tlel yuor elgnsih taecehr to get lsot.

Cool huh?

Halloween...in a nutshell.

I am from...

It's time for PROMPTuesday over at Sandiegomomma - Did I mention already how much I like her? Here is the prompt -

This week, tell us who you are, what’s inside, where you’re from. Share your memory fragments, those visions in your head, those figments that make you, you. What bits and pieces formed your whole? Are you whole? Tell us.

The original meme asked for the basic “I am from” format below, so let’s keep it like that.

I am from...

I am from hippy parents.

I am from parents who tried something different for me.

I am from private school and uniforms.

I am from playing outside until the streetlights came on.

I am from The Brady Bunch and Charlie’s Angels.

I am from Saturday morning cartoons - Schoolhouse Rock, Bugs Bunny, Foghorn Leghorn, Super Friends (“Wonder Twin powers activate – shape of a…”), Sid and Marty Kroft - Electra Woman and Dyna Girl, Sigmund and the Sea Monsters, Land of the Lost, H.R. Pufnstuf, etc. Love it – can you tell?

I am from being made to believe I was a princess.

I am from realizing I am not.

I am from leaving private school mid-semester because dad couldn’t pay the tuition.

I am from a big dose of reality at fifteen.

I am from moving on and taking care of myself by 18.

I am from made to feel I was worthless to realizing I’m pretty great (some may not agree and that’s okay too).

I am from dealing with the “battle of the bulge”…all the live long day.

I am from losing a parent while still young and not expecting it.

I am from learning from what I’ve been through and careful to try and not make the same mistakes.

I am from finding true love and marrying him.

I am from becoming a stepmother.

I am from a relatively simple life and enjoying it.

I am from recognizing most of us are similar in many ways, we just don’t share enough.

I am from the wisdom that the portraits of our lives are not perfect and they are not ugly, they’re just different colors.

Grrrr...

I can’t stand it when my shirt gets wet while doing the dishes.
Why is it so freakin expensive to get my hair done?
I hate it when the flat sheet gets all bunched up under the comforter.
Whoopi Goldberg thinks she knows everything, annoying.
Why does it take so long to make an apple pie?
I really, really love my dog, BUT I cannot stand his wet nose nudging my bare legs.
Don’t even get me started on his farts.
Where’s the commercial break from the end of one show to the beginning of the next?
Why does it take my husband sooooo long to do the dishes?
Could someone pul - lease go poop in the toilet!!

Just like stinkin clockwork!

The Trip That Saved My Life

It's time for PROMPTuesday over at Sandiegomomma - I really like her! Here's the prompt -

I ask that you write about a trip or an excursion that left you changed in some way. Did you conquer a fear on your trip? Learn something about yourself? Learn something about another person? Break up? Get together? Consider hospital time for the largest walking blister this side of Manhattan?

The Trip That Saved My Life.

We just needed some time away from each other. A few hours up the coast, just me, visiting my sister would do the trick. Some space would help us work this out. We were in the preliminary stages of planning the wedding. My father was incurably ill and it wouldn’t be long before he was gone. We were watching the tornado of death loom closer and closer. There was no stopping it. I wanted my father to be there, to walk me down the isle, and some grandkids wouldn’t hurt either. We had to act fast. Little did daddy know his princess was getting pummeled emotionally, mentally, and physically.

He had struck me before. The other times it was a kick, a shove, or a flying object headed in my direction. Most of the time he used his favorite - his trademark - grabbing a clump of hair at the base of my neck to hold me steady so he could rant inches from my face about what a c**t I was. However, this last time was different. A crack across the face. A sudden wallop, followed by the sting and throbbing and knowing of a bruise sure to come. He had never hit me like that and this too was followed by flowers and gifts and “no one will ever love you like I do…I love you so much you bring out all my passion.”

I returned from my trip with what I thought an excitement to see him, but realized at some point later on it was a trepidation of sorts. I was just too young and naïve to understand it. I was never scared because I had always fiercely fought back, he would just always win. I stepped off the train and found him already tracking me. Any other time, this would have convinced me of how he so deeply loved me because he already had his eye on me. This time it was creepy. It was tainted. It was spooky. The alarms in my head began to sound and I knew in the deepest part of my being it was o-v-e-r. I learned right then and there, on the deck of that train station that I was worthy of something better than he had made me believe.

The break-up was the third or maybe fourth time, but by the grace of God it was the final time. Although I must admit he was right, I never did find anyone who loved me like he did - I found someone who loves me better.

Imagination

The rugrat's idea of a baseball catcher's face mask.

Behold his artwork on the wall behind him.

Eeeek!

I am now a registered voter!

After

La daaa...

Posting that - before - picture was a great motivator. I knew I had to get that table cleared because all my millions of readers would be dying to see the after. Also, to help me along in my memory keeping I took a project and placed it on my night stand so I could work on it after crawling into bed in the evenings. I'll let you know how well that works. BTW - all those clothes piled on the craft table were size 9 - 12 months and he'll be three in January. His bedroom is filled with clothes that are in the current transition. I guess I had to clear the craft table for me to pile his two-year-old clothes onto, right? Ugh!

Life

Everytime I sit down to post something on my blog I get caught up reading other blogs. I love reading blogs. They amaze me and yet at the same time make me feel normal. They are personal, some are...oh my god...personal, and some are just personal enough to let you take a peak. They are filled with things like kids, husbands, wives, pets, laundry, cleaning, and just every day life. All the stuff that makes me feel like a failure because most of the time I just can't keep up, and I think I must not be that good at it! When I read the blogs I realize I'm not the only one. There are so many of us out there that feel the same way and I'll bet none of us are "slobs" we're just trying to keep up. Then there are the blogs which describe a much harder life. These blogs remind me to be thankful every day because in the grand scheme of things, I don't have it hard at all. Bless you families that have it harder. There are nights I speak of you in my prayers.

I came in the office to clean it up a bit. I'm transitioning the rugrats wardrobe - out with the old and in the with the new. There is a huge pile of clothes stacked on the craft table, <-- yeah right, like I have time to do crafts, blocking my view out the window which is making it unable to see our beautiful new white vinyl fence that is an awesome backdrop to the rose bushes. To motivate myself I am posting a picture of the before and after...here is the before... wish me luck!

What I tell ya...that's a good dog!

I could swear I heard Duke say, "Are you kidding me?"

Checking blood pressure...

Checking his ears...

Doctor said, "Boo boo is all betta."

There is not a chance in the world Pebbles would have let the rugrat do this to her. Change is good, a little bittersweet, but good!

Change

clickety-clack...clickety-clack...clickety clack…

down the hall to the office…back up the hall to the family room…down the hall to the office…back up the hall to the family room…down the hall….

This is the sound our 80lb lab/shepherd makes on the floors as he roams the house not being able to decide if he wants to be in the office with mom or the family room with dad. Decide already! If he were a girl dog I swear I would paint those nails. Hot pink.

The last post and the event that took place made me really sad. Took. Me. Down. That cat was the first animal I had from the time she was a baby to the end of her life. I got her because of my love for animals and was only able to get a cat because I lived in an apartment that would not accept a dog. I was just about to turn 21 when I got her. My-oh-my how things have changed, which brings me back to the clickety-clack…

Change. The house, not apartment, in which I live is my first as a homeowner, purchased in 2005 just in time to experience the market plummet…ahhhh…the pleasures of owning a home! So what do dog lovers do when they buy their first house? Get a dog! However, we were not purposely looking for one. This one kind of landed on our doorstep. I remember when we got him I thought about how things were changing. We were getting a dog, not a cat. (Note: We still have two more cats. I know, I know...crazy, yes, whole other story). I remember thinking…at some point he will be the only animal in the house and good thing too because he’s like another child. His poops are the size of the cats themselves, he sheds unlike any other animal I’ve ever known, smells ever so sweetly of dirty grass and whatever fun loving smell he has decided to roll around in, and decided very early on that the loveseat would be his throne. Which I might add is now continuously covered with a sheet that is changed every so often due to his saliva making pant and spit spewing bark which conveniently splatters across the front window. Nice.

On the other hand – Not only is he one of the most handsome dogs I know, he is so sweet, extremely happy-go-lucky, considerably well behaved, has the cutest tail which curls up in a fluffy spray, and prances cheerfully while following you everywhere. He is great with kids and lets the rugrat grab his paws, pull his ear, tail, nose, whiskers, and hold his snout to kiss him on the lips. The rugrat will casually drape his arm over Duke’s neck and say, “Duke is my brover.” In addition, he’s an awesome guard dog and will bark ferociously at any and all coming to the house. If he’s really riled his fur will rise in a cool looking mohawk all the way down his back while barking, growling, and snorting like something out of Jurassic Park. This flagrant display of territorialism makes any stranger decide against entering the gate. However, I would be curious to know if Duke’s personal password is simply a hotdog.

Change. That’s what it is. Change.

I can hear my mom now…the only thing in life that is constant is change…

Fattie the catties

This is Pebbles. Such a fat cat! At one point she weighed 11 pounds! Today, I had to say goodbye to her after 18 years together. It was time. Seeing this picture only confirms that we did the right thing. For the past year, she looked absolutely nothing like this picture. It makes me realize just how sick she was, which I knew, but I just couldn't bring myself to send her away. I kept thinking, or rather hoping she would die peacefully one night in her sleep. Yet, every morning we would wake up, check on her, and she was still ticking and feisty as all get up...digging into the trash, meowing because she was hungry, meowing because she wanted a spankin fresh kitty box, and God knows what else she was meowing about. She was always meowing for one reason or another. Some mornings if I hadn't heard her meowing I would expect to find her somewhere curled up, but that never happened and she just got worse and worse. We spent our last few minutes together laying on the hallway floor where she listlessly lay her head, but still managed to purr while I pet her. Man she had a great purr, like an engine. It's hard to look at this picture because I get emotional all over again. Then again, just talking about her does it too. I imagine that will subside over time, but right now it kinda stinks!

Thank you for keeping me company for all those years Beautiful Lady. I'll never forget you.

Rock-a-bye Baby

Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Yikes huh? And we wonder why our children wake up with nightmares as mine did last night crying, "He ate my haneburger (hamburger)."

So I changed it -

Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
If the bough breaks, the cradle won't fall,
And baby will sleep all night long.

There...that ought to do it!

O.J. Simpson

Can you say arrogant? This guy gets away with a vicious murdering of two people and all he has to do is a lead a clean life and he couldn't even do that. Not to mention a life nicer than most of the population and still... unbelievable. Better yet, can you say moron? He really should have tried harder to never find himself back in a courtroom. Among all the people in a trial - the jury, the judge, the lawyers (even his) you had to have known those people would have found some way to send him to the slammer, even if it was for a parking ticket. I think I could safely speak for the majority of the population when I say, "Most of us are pretty sure he killed those two people."

I wonder how popular he'll be in prison. Will he be a star or will somebody make him their bitch? What do you think?

Bag - vertising

Clever!

WTF?

Indonesia - $400 to restore eyesight to two little boys.

America - Beyonce is wearing a 5 million dollar ring.

Can someone please explain that to me?

Prima donna

I consider myself pretty simple. So the following story made me feel like a prima donna which is most certainly not who I am.

My husband surprised me with a weekend getaway, just the two of us. So, off we go up the California coast for a spontaneous, no plans, grab a hotel, fly by the seat of our pants kind of weekend. We find ourselves at the Marriott and the only thing they have available is a room with two full beds. So we leave in search for a hotel that can accommodate our king size bed necessity. It turns out there is some sort of convention and finding a place is pretty difficult. We pull into a Best Western which doesn’t necessarily scream relaxing, luxurious weekend hotel. But hey, I can adapt right? I’m not a prima donna, right? I don’t need to be one of those - hundreds of dollars on one night at a hotel – kind of people right? Wrong!

We check in and I’m thinking…ummm…okay no room service, but at least a full breakfast and not a continental breakfast…then we get to our room. The room has one full size bed, which was supposed to be a queen, with two DINKY pillows, covered in one of those ugly, flowered, polyester whatchamacallit bedspreads. There is a wall partition separating the room from the bathroom area, a shower smaller than ours at home (and ours is pretty small), a television that is considerably smaller than the small dresser it is sitting on, no in room movies, and that breathtaking aroma of antiseptic room freshener. Can you say – Uh… I don’t think so?!? – Of course hubby grabbing the remote to turn on wrestling and plopping on the bed did not help. He catches the look on my face, while still standing, and kindly says, “What’s wrong?” I reply, “What’s wrong? Are you joking? Did you see that shower? It’s smaller than ours? We are supposed to be pampering ourselves.” His considerate and how do I make the wife happy reply, “Do you want to leave and go back to the Marriott?” I say, “That’s just ridiculous. We can’t leave, we already paid.” After a few wide eyed, peering around, thoughts of – I’m not going to feel pampered, and not wanting to touch anything moments – I say, “Okay I can’t do it. Please go to the front desk and find out if we can leave without paying.” He dutifully gets up and goes down to the front lobby. The desk clerk shows up a few moments later to check out the room, just in case we ransacked the place, and releases us from the obligation of payment. Thank God!! We find our way back to the Marriott and grab the room with the two full size beds. We enter the fourth floor room at the Marriott – It has a rainshower showerhead and tub, two HUGE full size beds with down comforters and four massive down pillows on each bed, a gold velour throw folded neatly across the bottom of each bed, an armoire holding the television and coffee maker, a writing desk, a wingback armchair in the corner with reading lamp, and a window across the whole back of the room overlooking the courtyard, pool, and jacuzzi. The difference in the price of rooms for two nights was a little over $100.

You can call me Prima from now on!

PMS

Sucks!

Seriously?

Mariel Boatlift
The Mariel Boatlift was a mass movement of Cubans who departed from Cuba's Mariel Harbor for the United States between April 15 and October 31, 1980.

The boatlift was precipitated by a sharp downturn in the Cuban economy, leading to simmering internal tensions on the island and a bid by up to 10,000 Cubans to gain asylum in the Peruvian embassy.

The Cuban government subsequently announced that anyone who wanted to leave could do so, and an impromptu exodus organized by Cuban-Americans with the agreement of Cuban President Fidel Castro was underway. The boatlift began to have negative political implications for U.S. President Jimmy Carter when it was discovered that a number of the exiles had been released from Cuban jails and mental health facilities. The exodus was ended by mutual agreement between the two governments in October 1980. By that time up to 125,000 Cubans had made the journey to Florida.

Seriously? I am all for giving people a chance for a better life, but if you're going to come to this country for a better life...learn to speak English, get a job, and don't shoot anyone!

Source: Wikipedia

Really?

WASHINGTON (AP) -- People calling a federal phone number to order duck stamps are instead greeted by a phone-sex line, due to a printing error the government says would be too expensive to correct.

The carrier card for the duck stamp transposes two numbers, so instead of listing 1-800-782-6724, it lists 1-800-872-6724. The first number spells out 1-800-STAMP24, while the second number spells out 1-800-TRAMP24. People calling that second number are welcomed by "Intimate Connections" and enticed by a husky female voice to "talk only to the girls that turn you on," for $1.99 a minute.

Really?

Read the full article here.