Tuesday, February 26, 2008


Disclaimer: I am not in the mood for my usual snarky and feisty bent. Bear with me. It's temporary, I assure you.
Sunday was my mother's birthday. She would have been 61. Shamefully I have not called my father yet either. He hides things from me that I know he tells other people. Maybe I'm saving him some trauma too. Somehow I doubt it and it will probably come back and bite me in the butt around the corner here. I miss my mom, but dad has been lost the past 2 years without her. They were together a total of 35 years, married for nearly 33 of it. There's a part of Mass that thunked the tear ducts and I leaked a little Sunday. It's not often I get sad about the death of my mother. It seems a bit weird that I don't, I guess. I made peace with it sooner than most people make peace with a parent dying. She had her quirks and oddities and I acquired a few of my own. But I always loved her because she was my mother. I didn't really KNOW her till she died though. I vowed that my kids would know more about my story because I didn't want to have them learn it from an aunt or other relative like I did. I want them to have the opportunity to ask me questions about why I do certain things etc. Like, why I make a deal out of birthdays, even if I'm broke and can only make a cake at home and improvise steak with salisbury steak instead. In my household, your birthday nets you a dinner meal of your choice (within reason and family budget of course) and cake. Birthdays were just another day in my parents' household. A number of years ago, I started a new birthday practice. I used to call my mom on my birthday and wish her a happy birthing day. Maybe when my kids grow up they'll do the same. Yea, I know, call me odd. It's a quirk I have.

Monday, February 25, 2008

I'm taking bets on when it's going to be Spring.

I am sitting here with fresh air drifting into my house via open windows, and enjoying the short lived relative quiet that only exists in the absence of my son. It's February, and I'm enjoying this beautiful weather that so many yankees call Summer temperatures. It's only nice because hell hasn't awakened and come to the Earth's surface for a visit yet. Even that has a hibernation sesason. I began thinking about what kind of weather to expect next month too. For those of you unfamiliar with North Florida weather patterns, March has one of two. We'll have freezing cold early and absolutely GORGEOUS weather at the end of March. .....OR.... We'll have gorgeous weather like we're having today early in the month and then the end of the month gets that bitter cold. I say bitter because when you've been out doing yardwork that comes with plant growth after 80* days, followed by 25* temps...it IS bitterly cold to us. For Florida, 20's and 30's IS COLD thank you. Yes, we even get temperatures below 20* on occasion. The TPC moved the tournament here at Sawgrass to May because March is so unpredictable. I don't know why the wussies did that, golf is supposed to be a little unpredictable. I mean where else can you run the chance of mimicking some of St. Andrews' breezes without leaving North America? Being a flat state though, you'll have to go elsewhere for the cliffs. I have my suspicions about the weather this March. What are yours?

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

is ESPN hiring?

DH watches ESPN constantly. If it's not the PS2 game (Madden, Tiga-Tiga Woods ya'll, or some war game) then it's usually ESPN. As he's ironing his shirt for work, he's watching ESPN FirsTake. It's a show that features the likes of Skip Bayless. I dislike the sound of Madden's voice, and this guy Skip ranks up there with Madden on my list. The man whines and moans about every thing. I don't know that I've heard a nice thing come out of his yap yet. Before the Jaguars were "on the map" this year, this putz was one of the many broadcast people badmouthing and ragging on the Jaguars. Then he jumped on the bandwagon when the Jags started doing well. But that's not why I dislike this individual. It's because he's just so negative. It's a wonder he hasn't already sucked the life out of his two colleagues at the desk with him. The NFL Combine is around the corner. For those of you who tune out sports, it's basically a job interview en masse for college football players. When asked if he was going to watch the Combine, Skip's voice took a tone of nose-upturned. He informed his colleague that he would be watching the golf tournament because he has no interest in the combine. Well, parrrrdon us! If you don't have any interest in the combine, shut your yap about it and just say "I didn't plan to watch it, I have something else in store for the weekend." Leave the better-than-you attitude at the stage entrance. I am but a mere novice sports fan, however, I could quickly adapt and learn the ropes of the job. If only ESPN was taking applications to replace Skippy boy there. For one thing, I'm much easier on the eyes and ears than he is.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

priceless panties

This bit of blog fodder brought to you in part by Shannon.
My day has been a little busy. In the midst of this I have a sniffly-allergies-gone-awry child. She wanted to don jammies and take a nap at 5PM. I told her to get into jammies, she had to get bathed. She took a shower and because she was cold, hurriedly put on her clothes. She then fell asleep before dinner, only to wake up a short time ago. She came over to me and said that her panties were giving her wedgies. I may have missed a too-small pair in the decluttering process, so I scoped the side seams and back waistband for a tag to see what size they were. Couldn't find one. I noticed her attire did seem amiss. I folded the front waistband over a bit to discover the problem. There was the tag. In front. Which explains the wedgies. She ran off saying "I gotta go change them around", and announced to the daddy as she zipped past him "I got my underwear backwards!" She returned looking relieved to not have tot-thongs any longer, and proceeded to tell me she was hungry. She should've stayed up for dinner.

Package of 7 pair of underwear: $8.00
Comfy pajamas: $12.00
Realizing you really don't own thongs: Priceless.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Furnitureless Home

Talk about simple living. What we have here is not homeless furniture....but furnitureless home. My dh is taking apart the beat-to-hell sleeper sofa so it can be sent to the curb. My older sister came to visit one day and bent the sleeper frame and hence the entire supports of the couch. She's disabled from a work injury some 17+ years ago, and subsequently obese, with very limited mobility. So when she sat on the couch she bent the bedframe underneath the cushions and the couch has never been the same since. It was a really comfortable couch before the sister and kids caused the carnage. The kids jumped on the arms of the couch, preferring to go OVER the couch than circumnavigate it. It needed to go out a long time ago, but dh and I could never agree on what furniture would replace it. I guess my summer will be spent on patio furniture situated INSIDE the house as opposed to the patio. I think the more likely scenario will be that I'll be finding myself waaay more often planted in my old squeaky metal base office chair from a long ago era. It's more comfortable than the floor and well....very conveniently located right here in front of my computer (aka my "glowing box"). I tried convincing him to wait till we had a replacment, I was met with "it's a piece of crap and falling apart and dilapidated, it's going to the road. I don't care if we have something else to sit on or not right now." In short, he's getting tired of the old stuff. He said the same thing when he took his equally beat-to-hell recliner that the kids mangled to the road a few months ago. At least I still have beds, dressers, my desk and a dining table. He thinks going to a lease purchase store is the answer. I cringe at the thought. I'd rather sit on inflatable furniture or bean bags.....I might even prefer to keep it a furnitureless home.

This is mid-dismantling:

This is the trash pile at the road:

In my search online for some place to park my blessed assurance on the occasion I actually stay longer than 2 seconds in the living room, I found a suitable replacement in the Big Lots ad:

Saturday, February 16, 2008

lil brother blog fodder

I was talking to my brother, waaaaay into the wee hours. He's at work and wrapping up his night. In the course of conversation he had cranial flatulance. I joked that his train of thought got derailed and fell off the bridge into the water. He said "your head leaks. I should install a blowoff valve so that I can audibly tell when your brain leaks" More love. Really. Don't you just feel it?

Friday, February 15, 2008

My aunt wished VD on me

I got a call from my aunt in Missouri kind of late last night. We do that...night owl tendencies are a genetic mishap apparently. Mine was also compounded by a birth late at night. Our conversation kind of started along these lines

::cell phone rings:: "Hello" (nifty caller ID already told me it was the Aunt)

"what are you doing?"

"reading blogs" (my list is growing by the way)

"ohh. well I was calling to wish you a Happy VD"

"you're calling to wish me a Happy Venerial Disease. I feel loved"

"yea well, it's what I do"

We've always gotten along pretty well. We are quite a bit alike. She has a slightly bendier warp to her humor than I do. She calls other holidays some off-color things too. It's probably best we not disclose them here, in writing, for the whole world to see. She should be able to maintain some semblance of decency and anonymity, even if her children force notoriety on her with their shenanigans. At the very least I can avoid shattering her facade of normalcy. My aunt has often said "Everyone is entitled to their delusions, some people abuse the privelege." She's been prudent with her delusions, I'll let her have this one.

In other news of the day around my abode: I got little accomplished today. I got cranky about something someone did this afternoon. I thought part of my crankiness was caused by a need for a nap, so I took one. That helped dissipate SOME of the cranky mood, but not all of it. The dh was asking what was wrong with me, "I'm cranky" was all he got, despite his pressing me for details. I didn't want to unleash the wench and cause more problems. It just wasn't worth it. The trigger was a minor thing, but really annoys me when it happens. I put on sneakers, went outside and unleashed my annoyance on unsuspecting foliage. Ligustrum and Loquat got tamed without argument. And the big chuckleworthy part of all this.....my dh dragged out the lawnmower and mowed the front yard. Shush, it's February, but it needed mowing back in November. I swear to you I said nothing to him about doing anything around the house today. He said he had no plans for anything, and I believed him. I only went outside to get away from the overload of TV noise. The trimmers were there, the mood struck. I went with it. At least my delusion free whim was productive and no V.D. was involved.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Yes, it's Valentine's Day, but you still have to work

My husband works in a home improvement store, as a department manager. He's been in a few different departments, and the current one is where all the babysitting takes places. He's in essence, the "Head Babysitter In Charge" - front end manager. If these cashiers are scheduled to work, and they call out just because it's Valentine's Day IMO they need to be suspended or terminated immediately. If they get to keep their job, I would hope they get the crappiest of shifts and schedules just because they deserve it. First of all, my husband had to work on Valentine's Day, as did I. I am sitting here with dinner keeping warm in the oven, an hour past when my husband should have gotten off work. Granted he doesn't always leave on time. However, today he would have - because it's Valentine's Day and he wants to do something nice with me. But wait, we are talking about immature people with no work ethic hired as cashiers at his store. Excuse me, but you're now screwing with MY time. I plan my work schedules around my husband's so that I can try to spend time with him, or have a date with him and not have to worry about a babysitter. It's one of the things you do when you work retail. You work around things. Heck, it's what you do as a grownup, you work around things. The schedule is posted in advance. If you know you're going to be working on Valentine's Day, let your sweetie know that alternative plans should be made. Doing something special doesn't HAVE to be done ON February 14th. Now, these fools have tampered with my Valentine's Day and as a result, certain individuals will be getting some kind of token of appreciation from me for doing their part. Meanwhile the rest of them can go find another job. *hmph*

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

What's in a name?

I have become rather engrossed in reading blogs. I can't really say addicted because I do walk away from the computer. It's the whole chatting on AIM thing that gets my butt in trouble. I get sucked into a conversation and well this girl goes with the flow. In the meantime I follow links from one blog to the next because a link with a Kick A name is calling my mouse to click. Stuff like "Rocks in my dryer" "God do you hear this Southern Girl Rambling?" "CurtJester" "Mental Poo" "Crouching Child, Hidden Alien", "Boobs, Injuries & Dr. Pepper", "Upright and Breathing" (a phrase I stole from a former coworker, stolen by my friend the Persnickety Ticker), my sister's blog "Life is easier as a social reject", and I have forgotten to bookmark the million others that I followed just because the name was cool. I wonder how these individuals have concocted their blog titles, and how it is associated with the blog author.

Mine? Well, fine, I will give you a glimpse but don't expect much. OK first of all, I am primarily of Irish descent. My dad's parents took a boat from Ireland and landed at Ellis Island near the turn of the last century. There's the tie to "Irish". "Feisty", describes me to a "T" in every possible definition listed on dictionary.com (except the part about a farting dog). Feisty is an apt description of me, and if you don't believe me, ask my husband and his friends, and a few others who have encountered me in some mode other than fun. For the record, I'm usually fun - at least till someone strums the wrong chord with me then smart people just get out of my way. "Wench", well it was a fun intent, but just went back to dictionary.com and actually some of that applies too. I am a working girl, and young (age and at heart) but lack the loose morals part of the definition. I mean, I do have those hellraiser tendencies but I somehow manage to keep them in check. When I think of a "wench" I think of the old pub wenches that were basically waitresses (some did more than that *ahem*), and entertained the customers. Keep 'em happy, keep 'em drinking. Well I don't have a bar here on my blog (do you KNOW how difficult it is to get an ABC license?) but if I did, you could have your fill of rum (preferably the Whaler's brand), Yuengling, Sam Adams, Dogfish beers, and whatever else I keep on hand or would keep on hand if this wench wasn't pressed for pennies right now. So you're just stuck with whatever you have since it's more readily accessible to you anyway, meanwhile I'll just be a good little wench and entertain the masses....Someone have a spare tray? I lost mine to someone's cranial region (or was it their posterior?) some time ago.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

As promised

OK, I told a visitor I'd post the pictures of the targets from my visit to the gun range almost 2 years ago. My brother had a rare day off in the world of pizza, and I was available during the day to go play with weaponry.

Most of the rounds went into this target

Decided not to waste another target, so the remaining rounds went here
Now, you should know that this was my first time firing a weapon of any kind. And that day my wrist was bothering me (work injury due to utter wastes of oxygen being stupid as usual) and some of my shots were off because of the pain. I know I missed the target several times. I didn't care though, I had 100 rounds to fire off and I made sure I got all of them out of the gun. My husband showed the targets to his buddies very proudly "Lookit what my wife did!"
Yea, his friends are careful around me because A) they've seen my temper at a realllllly bad point, and B) they saw the targets. They love me dearly but they've told me they won't make me mad. I've noticed we don't see his buddies much lately........

from the mouths of babes.....

I had just put my rosary in my purse, as my daughter brought her brush and detangler spray to me. She asked what I was doing, I told her and she told me she thought I couldn't wear it to church. Not that I wear a rosary, but I said that you can carry your rosary anywhere with you. She said "I thought I heard God say you can't wear your rosemary necklace to church" The cackling within me has yet to cease and I'm sure I'll still be cackling later about this. She never ceases to bring some sort of smile to my heart, yet challenges my patience. Yea, welcome to motherhood.....

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Perfect site for nuclear testing, I tell ya...

I was trawling around blog-land and found this one
I personally am offended by the story because my husband was in the Marine Corps and I'm very glad I do not live in Berkley California. In my opinion, the citizens and officials of that city are just a bunch of wackos. I am not even going to launch into a long post about my two pennies on this. I live in a city chock full of military presence and come from a family of military affiliations, then married into a family with military affiliations. This ordinance wouldn't happen where I live, mostly because it's a rather backwoods city, but still...it wouldn't happen here.

It started one way, ended another

Someone asked me a few months ago if I was Catholic. Initially cautious about answering, the answer is yes. While I do have a hellraiser side of me that is geneticly linked through my now 80 year old father, I do have another side of me. The two sides often meet somewhere in the grey area of my personality. I have long recognized the effects and presence of Divine Intervention in my life. I have friends that do not hold the same spiritual beliefs I do. The common denominator between us is that none of us like it when other people shove their beliefs down our throats and say theirs is the best way. I surely hope one of us is right. We all respect that each of us has a different perspective and we don't judge each other based on that narrow criteria of our spiritual tenets. We do however hold very similar morals in general of common decency. The fringes of the morals differ between us even. I have found that I am a little quieter inside than I was a year ago. Some of it is from making a large change in my household, some of it is a spiritual journey I've been taking since last Spring. I've gotten some incredible amounts of personal and spiritual support from everyone around me in varying degrees. I can only hope that I have returned the favors somewhere along the way. I've started reading a book called Saints Behaving Badly by Thomas J. Craughwell. I'm not very far into the book but it seems to be an interesting read. I also have come across this interesting website with reflections on different forms of clutter, specifically tailored to the Lenten season. Day by Day Through Lent Since I also subscribe to the FLYLady emails, this set of daily reflections applies to another area of my life. I had a goal of getting my house clean for Valentine's Day. It's honestly unrealistic for me because I get overwhelmed very easily with the mess around me. I used to pull everything out of the closet or room even, and then spend the next month carefully maneuvering around the mess as I lamented my decision. Then in the meantime I would try to clean it back up but the whole "forest for the trees" experience gets in my way. So, I am going to expand the timeline of my goal to have my house cleaned up by Easter. That's 6 weeks of Lent, therefore 6 weeks of working on my mess. I have a life that calls my name all hours of the day, and I have to make sure my efforts to clean a mess don't leave a bigger mess in my own wake. I also have to ensure that I'm not just moving stuff from one place to another. I have to get rid of a bunch of stuff, period. This house has a sum total of 3 closets. One linen closet, two bedroom closets, and the poor laundry room serves as another closet/catch all. I spent my birthday in the laundry room to get it to look like what my sister calls "the back room of a chinese restaurant". After all, it is directly off the kitchen. I will not even launch the diatribe about how the males did not listen to me when they were framing out this former garage. They've admitted that they should have listened to me, well after the fact. So I have to, once again, make do with what I've got till I can get something better. It's small and laid out weird, and I was put in this house to make me purge my clutter. These cramped quarters also saved our hides from an apartment with mold in the kitchen that the maintenence and property managers tried to say wasn't there. So if you're ever in the market for an apartment, don't move to what is now called Baymeadows Village. I don't care if they've changed managers or not, that doesn't remove the fact that the buildings are so old and probably built on a marsh or swamp, and therefore bastions of trapped moisture. So to go from this well laid out, 1500 square foot apartment with closets in practically every room, to this 1100 square foot house with practically no closets (but a big yard) was a shock to my clutter hoarding ways. It's better than what it used to be, but surely doesn't look it. And sitting here yakking to you via the keys is not getting anything done. I do however have a load of laundry running in my relatively clean restaurant back room. I only meant to post this little couple sentence long entry with the link to a reflection site, and name the book I started.....apparently more was screaming to escape my brain. I now have a puddle of cranial leakage to clean up from under my chair. I really need to get the holes in my ears fixed.

Friday, February 8, 2008

Public Service Announcement for Valentine's Day

Someone asked what I wanted for Valentine's Day. I don't know really....I wasn't planning on making a big deal of it. In the course of conversation though, it came around to the usual gifts of chocolate, jewelery, massage certificates etc. It dawned on me that if a guy expects to get intimate with his mate, then he should avoid giving her chocolate for Valentine's Day, or risk not getting any. Wait, before you start with your objections, hear me out. It really DOES make sense. My plethora of useless knowledge reminds me that chocolate releases the same endorphins that are released during intercourse. Well if she's already got the endorphins flowing in her, that just might diminish the guy's chance of achieving his expected goal here. Now that doesn't mean it's a certainty, but most mothers are too darn tired to get all ramped up and randy (though it DOES happen at times). So save the chocolate for morning after Valentine's Day. You'll have gotten your quarterly allotment from her anyway, and to make her even happier, you'll have saved 50% on that cheezy Valentines candy because you got it for her the day after the special occasion. Yes, guys, that savings means we can now buy another pair of shoes.

Roll Call!

If you actually survive the trauma of reading this blog...post something. It's more for my own poops 'n' giggles than anything else. I am no Linda Sharp or Crystal McKnob, but then again, I still haven't figured out what I wanna be when I grow up either.


Last night we (sis and I) took the Persnickety Ticker for some birthday shenanigans. We went to Lynch's for trivia and the whole process of collecting everyone took a while so we missed the start of trivia, then missed a bunch of questions. We didn't exactly have a blast but were certainly entertained at a few points by the people watching. The establishment was very briefly visited by what we are certain was an individual who had mammaries broad enough to be described only as pectoral boobs. They were not large in terms of girth, but mere breadth. He/She/It entered, wandered all of 5 minutes and exited. All while wearing a dress that was so low cut J.Lo would have given 3 snaps, hair coiffed into some sort of 'do reminiscent of the 50s in an Elvis beach movie, complete with a large obtuse flower - I assume helping hold the coif together maybe? Tell me what it is, I'll tell you what to feed it. We figure this individual either escaped the drag queen bar nearby, or just left it looking for more entertainment. Um, 2 blocks due West honey. When trivia was over and the band started we left. We were no longer as entertained, despite our 'box baby' status. We went to one place that was dead enough to make my house look like a more lively alternative, and it smelled funny there. Don't wanna know, I may barf in my mouth at being educated on the sources of the smell. We then moved to a place with quarter pool, with a house rule "no drinks? no play!" I would probably be better at golf than pool. I did shoot better while holding the cellphone talking to my brother. Which, he has to join us for the next go round because Persnickety Ticker very much enjoyed that my sister was keeping up with her, and then while on the phone, the brother had equal footing. We left when we were done with drink and pool. It was late for us (the old farts with kids and that stuff ...um...yea responsibility) and raining. I'd already ticked off the husband for lack of communication, and was trying to spare more strife. Plus Persnickety's quacker was at home pouting that he was left alone with his offspring....quack quack quack (that AFLAC duck comes to mind actually) and the mass quantity of cigarette smoke was sending all of us into an asthmatic tither so we headed home. I have mentioned I don't multitask well right? Things like thinking and talking simultaneously; they evade me. I was trying to drive, at night, in the rain, on roads that were under construction. I got a phone call and was met with a curt and rather ticked off tone. It was bad enough that I had abandoned him without ample warning. But then Cinderella's coach had already returned to being a pumpkin too. Oh the injury to the ego. This morning I didn't get a warm reception either. Yea I goofed, I can admit that. I can see this weekend is going to be interesting too. I'm wondering if it will spill over to Valentine's Day now. Irish people have a mean streak. Lucky me, I married a guy who's got some Cherokee in his lineage as well. THIS should prove to be enthralling.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Irish Wenches go to Lynch's

I'm sitting here waiting on my sister to show up so we can go retrieve a certain persnickety ticker and take said ticker out to celebrate having confounded medical professionals so many years. Meanwhile, my husband is NOT happy that I'm going out because apparently he wasn't forewarned. Oops. Sorry. I did apologize but I don't think it's gonna be enough. He swears I never had a conversation with him about it, I could've sworn I did. Was he paying attention when I was speaking? Was I talking to him and not one of the participating members of this conspiracy to deprive him of his spouse? In my defense....I do have dinner ready, one child is bathed and she had such a bad day she ate dinner and PROMPTLY crashed on the couch. Now by promptly I mean she devoured the food and astonished the teenage brother in doing so, then walked away from the table (left her dish) and silently crawled up on the couch and said nothing to anyone and fell asleep. The child SMELLED like she played hard today, whether she admits it or not. She was moody and full of attitude. I put her in the tub. It helps me, and if she really is my clone, it helps her. It did settle her down. Food helped. We aparently have hollow legs and feet and can put some teenage boys to shame. She is my clone....much to the daddy's chagrin. So all the dad has to deal with is the stinky teenager and being in the house without me. I surely hope the adage holds true "absence makes the heart grow fonder". I really don't like when he's unhappy, especially at me. Meanwhile, waiting on my sister, is now causing us to miss happy hour and risking trivia time. Plus there's the issue of rain, going to get the persnickety ticker and hoping there are seats for the ticker and sister wenches. Maybe we're going to Murphy's on the way to Lynch's?

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

uhh you got some dirt on your forehead

Yea I know, it was intentional. It's Ash Wednesday.

Side note, I think I killed the spacebar in my new keyboard that I got in November. One side of it is shiny from excessive use and now one side of it is functioning poorly because either someone popped it off and didn't put it back right or it's just lost that "spring" in its um...step.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

BLAH and more BLAH

I hate being sick. My lungs have this uncanny ability to sense pollen and go into what can only be described as "Jewish mother" mode. Smothering and hinders the way. My asthma is not the kind that I wheeze and you can ear air whistling in my trachea. Nope, I get the nifty trick of sudden mucuous production and have to sound rather 'unladylike' to breathe. I have resorted to stealing my son's nebulizer at times. DH brought home some Mucinex when he got sick last month, and it's basically Robitusson minus the gacky taste. Seemed to help me get through the workday except somehow I still felt like dog doo. Then I stopped at a friend's house on the way home...her persnickety ticker is fighting to tick and it just sucks. Nothing can be done except 1)wait or 2)accelerate the process of dying. She described her symptoms and I asked if it was a heart attack. She said it probably was and that her heart was in failure, but at least she didn't have the active pneumonia anymore. I'm kind of struggling with this because it just plain defies logic. I can't claim to have that many friends. There are shifts going on in everyone's lives at this point and I feel like I'm kind of in limbo with all my friendships. There are people we hung out with weekly that have kind of moved onto other things that we don't participate in and don't care to be part of either. There are other friends that are geographically distant and have a lot going on in their lives. There's another that is never home, work sucks up a large portion of their life and I don't have much contact with them like I did before. My sister talks to me more, but we've hardly ever been close. We help each other because that's what sisters are supposed to do. It's not a relationship that parallels the friendships I forged with people outside my family tree. Then I have this one friend who is dying. And I watch and listen to it with dread of the inevitable. A person that knew me in high school with all my quirks and strangeness as a kid, tracked me down again a second time. We pretty much picked up where we left off and it's like we never lost touch, except we have individual histories unshared between us. We've never judged each other (as far as I can remember) and we each have this snarky sense of humor and respect for the other's views even if we disagree, and we have a history separated by divergent paths that crossed again. I was washing dishes earlier and got that knot in my gut thinking about how my friend is dying and I can't do anything except be her friend like I've been doing. It's exactly what she and I need though. We can't tiptoe around it, but we don't focus on it either. It does weird me out, but it's only because I haven't gotten to that point of accepting it entirely. I mean when my mom died, it was rather short notice. The doctors found everything shutting down on a Friday and her heart stopped that Monday. This is totally different. Every day she feels like crap and gets worse. Every day she fights to make it through one more day just because she's got unfinished business here still. I wish I hadthe money to take her to Disney like she wants to do before she dies. It totally sucks to be broke. It's all very humbling though, because as much as I think I have something to complain about, I really don't. And for some reason this whole thing reminds me of the movie "With Honors". I have asked my friend to avoid haunting me in the shower or while I'm getting dressed, or in otherwise compromising spots. Her response was something like: "What? No three-way-by-proxy?" Well there's that, and she should be spared the view of my husband's wherewithal.

Monday, February 4, 2008

heart rending

I went to visit a blog that I derive great mirth and enjoyment while reading it. Today was not her usual blog of humorous interactions. This one was human, genuine and really heart rending for me.
It makes me miss my mom.
In posts more recent than this particular one, there are updates to the story.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Super Bowl Commercials-and my favorite

Audi's Automotive Ode to the Godfather - way cool
Soda a la Saturday Night Live
Genietalk search....
Snooty Wine & Cheese? No it's Beer in hiding
UnderArmour Overtakes the World
Jab at Belichick

Bridgestone saves squirrel
Doritos Karaoke (but the good kind of karaoke)

Jolie and Freeman in "Wanted"
Gatorade "good game"

Danica drops clothes for GoDaddy.com
Sexy computer - Dell join (Red)

FedEx carrier pigeons stealing from the Godzilla idea
cars.com.....odd - fight a warrior for a deal?
Silence the talking shirt stain for tide

Corky trains Clyde for the big gig - ode to Rocky (Someone please tell me how Budweiser went from beer to lager?)
Superheros under construction, Ironman
Bridgestone Rock concert

Corolla and the vicious critter
no rules football-Leatherheads with George Clooney
Napolean gets a Garmin

Follow your heart - career builder
Thriller lizards - Sobe lifewater
PSA for keeping kids from getting high

Why grow dream or build....Yukon Hybrid from GMC
Carlos Mencia gives dating tips - Bud Light

Narnia promo spot
Ugly Betty stops trafic with Planters
T-Mobile - Charles Barkley loves Dwayne Wade
NFL & the United Way

Justin Timberlake gets dragged by Pepsi
Doritios opratic ode to mousetraps

NASCAR kickoff in Daytona
House and the local news
Jeep product development lost in the woods
PSA for tobaccofreeflorida.org
Toyota Tundra tows the cabin to the lake

programming promos for PrisonBreak and Terminate
NFL Network - fan comments about players
A.I. programming promo
New Amsterdam....new series on Fox

Tom Petty for the halftime show..... WHYYYYY??? "I'm freeeeeeeeeeeee. Freeee Ballin'" this man hasn't done much in a few years, I guess his bills are piling up or something? Avoiding controversy is understandable but Tom Petty? Puleeeze. I could've enjoyed some local talent more I think.
Fox says "Tom Petty rocked the Superbowl" - sure did....rocked us to sleep

Back to the commercials

resurrect an old car during happy hour w/ Advance Auto Parts
Comcrap promo for 6 months of services
ship your ship. no ship. Carmax
Wachovia way to save (same commercial they've been showing)
NASCAR again sparkplugs, fan blades and pistons

Zantac - expect to see this commercial again. It wasn't thrilling
Movie with Will Ferrel
Claritin with NASCAR's Carl Edwards
cars.com avoids the witch doctor shrinking heads
animated pandas sell furniture - salesgenie.com
Shaq jockeys for Vitamin Water
another NASCAR programming promo
Fox programming promo for Terminator

Caveman invents wheel for Bud Light
Carmen Electra for Ice Cubes gum
Bridgestone avoids hitting Gene Simmons, Richard Simmons,
careerbuilder.com showtunes
Fox Programming Sarah Connor Chronicles (Terminator)

Genesis - a luxury sedan by Hyundai - debuts during the game
Buzz & Woody introduce Wall E the robot that resembles Johnny 5, who then blows up a vacuum

Samuel L Jackson, Jumper movie promo
e*trade baby vlog (coulda nixed the spit up)
Bud Light "Flying"
Fox Pro Bowl Programming Promo
(Must they have so much programming promo??)

oboe player Chester Pitts walks on & plays in the NFL (Texans)
local promos
"steakdar" at Golden Corral
Tailgating with Publix (made me hungrier than I was already)

Sunsilk brings out classic divas of music
cartoon parade balloons fighting over Coke like it's a football game-happy ending for Charlie Brown

JINX buy me a coke politics
big wheels race - Toyota Sequoia
fox pro bowl (what? didn't sell enough commercial time?)

Adam Sandler - Don't Mess with the Zohan
more Terminator programming promo (fox....what are you doing?)

E*Trade baby, hired a clown
Taco Bell fiesta platter serenade
loud slurping dog (cute black lab) drinks gatorade
fox programming promo - again

Will Farrell as Jackie Moon for Bud Light
Hyundai Genesis
Fox promo again - at least it was Chad Johnson and "Moment of Truth"

Victoria Secret - let the games begin
Amp, jump start
NFL-Big Ben karaoke - spot for A.I.

programming promo for FX
Dell - Join (red)
tracking ops for overstock.com

happy cows from california

cadillac escalade
g2 from gatorade (again)
visa popcorn at the movies
at&t mobile phone

I KNOW I saw the breathe fire commercial from Bud Light, but mustve been distracted and didn't note it.....I must not have been too impressed

and my vote for the favorite
Audi's Automotive Ode to "The Godfather"