Puter is still broke. Power source has been removed by ME! I will be able to build em myself when this is over :) But I haven't even had a chance to go buy a new one to see if this is the issue and if my mother board is fried as well. Next week.
My son has been home sick all week with a wicked fever. Ugh! The same son who is going to Tampa tomorrow for the biggest tourney of the year Region Cup!! Hopefully he will be up to it, but he still had a low grade fever today. Influenza is the culprit! Cooties..yuck!
For the few who I have graphics in the works for, hang in there. Hopefully next week I will get em all done :)
I miss everyone. Gonna have tons of reading to catch up on when I can breath again.
Don't know what happened but it just shut down and now it won't start again. When it happened it was hot as hell too, so I think I fried it somehow. waaahhhhh
What am I gonna do??
I have my kids machine which is my old one but I ditched ALL my graphics software, all my everything actually and took this down to bare azz nuttin for them. :( wahhhhh
I have visions of needing a new one and having to start all over again.
Every Morning I stop off at a convenient store/gas station in my bus between runs. 7:59 am every school day since August 2004 like clockwork. I wash the fuel off my hands, tinkle, wash my hands, make a cup of decaf coffee, engage in some morning banter with the cashiers and purchase a pack of gum. $2.00 exactly. It is a ritual. Sometimes my dad will show up and pay for my coffee because he also frequents this location when in the area.
Dad is off on Fridays, so I didn't get to see him today. But I did have an interesting encounter with a stranger. This is how it went:
Upon exiting the restroom, this gentleman and I are walking toward one another. I smile and say good morning. He returns the gesture and adds a wink. Happy guy is my thought as I proceed to make my coffee. As I am giggling and joking with the cashiers I notice "happy guy" looking my way. I smile and go about my business. Pay my tab and head out back to the bus. Happy guy and his partner are now standing by their work truck. Happy guy is busy workin a scratch off lottery ticket. As I pass the two of them Happy guy says "Hey, you look familiar" my reply is "Oh really?" while I am thinkin lame line dude. He asks me a few typical follow-up questions like How long have you lived here? (16 years) and What school did you go to? (none in Florida) Where did you go to school? (Michigan) blah blah
All the while happy guy is giving me the visual once over occasionally stopping blatantly at my boobs. Now I am not the offendable type. This is typical male behavior, right? lmao So I decide to play along and say to Happy guy "Do you read Playboy Magazine?" I have to repeat the question as I think it totally took him off guard. He says "Yes. I do." I smile and respond "Well that isn't where you know me from, so you can stop gawking at my boobs" I know I was taking a chance that Happy guy had a sense of humor. And he did. So did his partner who literally blew juice out his nose. We all laughed, I wished them good day and started off toward the bus.
Happy guy yells across the parking lot that he thinks I am cute, he likes my attitude (and obviously my boobs) and asked if I am spoken for. I returned his wink with a wave and a hearty "Thanks" and boarded my bus. More fun keeping em guessing I believe. :)
It's Friday, payday, ;I have a 3 day weekend AND someone took the time to flatter me. Life is good!!
So the buzz lately has been about "The Apprentice" Seems my entire family (except me) watches it religiously.
I only watch about an hour a night tops. And I am one of the rare few who could give up television way easier then I gave up Mt. Dew. I enjoy movies, but find it tough to sit still for 2 hours without being involved in some other activity. Usually the computer or a book. Its my multi-polar brain that makes it possible for me to focus on more then one thing at a time I guess.
Since I am a reality TV fan, I am going to give it a shot tonight. Been a long day and I am feeling up for notadamnthing. Maybe muster the energy to soak in the tub and then flop in bed and see what the hype is. Worst thing that could happen is it bores me and I fall asleep. An extra hour or so of sleep wouldn't be torture by any means.
I awoke to the phone at 4 am. Listened thru drowsy eyes to the desperation of my co-worker, begging me to come in early. We have alot of people out sick, been this way for weeks. Last week I had gone in early only to be totally disrespected by the woman I bend over backwards to help whenever there is a need. It wasn't private disrespect, it was publically broadcast disrespect. Totally uncalled for, unprofessional and undeserved. So I had asked my supervisor to remove me from the call list. I work extra for the $$ of course but also to help my co-workers. We don't have the type of job that when someone is ill, you can push their workload off until they return. I understand this and do what I can to help.
I laid in bed for a good 10 minutes debating in my head what to do. Stick to my guns and not call them back or suck it up forgive and forget and go in. Remembering my Princess Positive vow I decided to go in.
I enjoyed my sunrise ride, got to listen to my favorite early morning talk radio program and traffic was actually bareable.
My daughter is home ill again today. Fever and nausea. Yuck. I cancelled my lunch date with my Memaw and Mom. Disappointing. I was looking forward to it, but on the positive side I refocused on how nice it was going to be to come home and be here for my daughter. One of the perks of my job.
Stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things on my way home. Namely some Iguana food. (story to follow) This very sweet woman bagged my stuff and helped me to the car with it. It is a store policy that all customers get assistance to their vehicle whether they need it or not. Once I arrived home I realised that the Endive and Parsley I specifically went for had not made it into my trunk. In keeping with Princess Positive, I phoned the store cheerfully and asked them to please store it in the cooler and I would pick it up after work. Much to my surprise, they offered to deliver it to me. Was I going to be home in 15 - 20 minutes? WOW! sure. How nice of them. Not only did they deliver it to my door, they brought me a complimentary $10.00 grocery card for my troubles. Now that is impressive!!
My daughter is sleeping and I am off to read a few pages of a Harlequin Romance Novel and catch a nap as well.
I need a name for the Iguana. Gender is currently unknown. Any suggestions???
For the next 7 days... I will wear my Princess Positive tiara. I will smother negativity with kindness. I will smile in the face of nastiness. I will humor those stuck in the rut of dispair. I will not allow situations to control my happiness. I will not allow others to control my emotions.
Joan Rivers needs to retire and quit making a fool of herself.
Kanye West is way beyond conceited, he is convinced. That is very unattractive on a man.
I am getting old.
It is a shame people have to die to get tributes to them.
Queen Latifa rocks! A woman who is classy, sexy and fun with what seems to be an honest down to earth personality. Nice to see that in a non-barbiesque celeb rity.
Its a damn good thing Steven Tyler can sing. Nuff said.
Faith Hill is the luckiest lady in the universe. mmmm Tim
Ever just sit and close your eyes and feel to the world around you? I do it sometimes to memorize a moment that I want to keep. (the rushing waters of a Hawaiian waterfall) I do it sometimes as a type of meditation, sort of a mental time out to gather my thoughts. It is a great way to remind myself that I am but a speckle in the overall scheme of the universe and no matter how intense my dilemna may seem to me, it simply can not compare to what happens outside my little world.
Here is what I heard this morning.
60 seconds: 9:27 am EST Feb 13,2005 Naples, Florida
The distant chirp of birds. Rustling palm frawns. engine starting. dog barking. angry birds yelling at eachother quite close to my window. door closing. Fresh Air. The smell of cake baking. My bird breaking seed shells and an occasionally low chirp. My kids rustling on the furniture in the living room. Clicking sound of the oven. Will Smith and Anjolina Jolie doing "Shark Tales". Some Eminem song on the radio. My dog sighing on the floor next to me. The humm of the dryer. Laughter. door close. Cool breeze on my bare feet. An airplane. The doorbell.
Short lunch for me today. We have early release so I will be home by 3p instead of 5p. That is the one thing about my job I wish was different. I work on average 7 hours a day. But I awake at 4am and don't get back home until 5pm. Way too long to just get in 7 measly hours. Hubby said to me the other day he thought it would be nice to have a 3 + hour break in the middle of the day. Parts of it are nice. The kids are in school and he is at work. So its just me and the family zoo, which provides some nice quasi alone time. The downfall is that when I know I have to go back to work, I can't seem to really relax. It is like having something hanging over my head the entire time. Constantly watching the clock, guaging what I can and can't get completed before I have to go.
I think there is some bizarre lunar alignment thing happening. The kids on my bus have been just looney this week. Whining about petty crap, being onery to each other and somehow they seem to have forgotten the safety rules. I am over lecturing. I am so over saying "Please sit down" "Please clear the aisle" *cause ya can't say SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP*
On another front, I resolved my little tiff with my sons coach. I called him and spoke my piece, it felt good to get all that crap off my chest. It is hard for me to gather the words in some kind of understandable order in my brain, especially when I feel vulnerable. I was proud of myself for getting thru it and getting my point accross.
I am facing another 2 weeks of chaos. Lots to do, way more expenses then money and the knowledge that my Memaw will be leaving for home soon. I am a tad stressed out about it all. But as I have learned, worry solves nothing. Things will progress as they may and when it is all said and done, everything will get done and paid and be alright.
I have been thinking about D lately. (my now 18 yo daughter who we adopted 4 years ago) I haven't heard from her in awhile, which makes me wonder if things are on a downslide with her again. She seems to call when things are ok, or when she feels she can cover the truth enough to make me believe things are ok. I miss her. I knew it wasn't going to be an easy road, but I never expected all the things that happened. Tis a very very long story that I will journal about soon. So much of the last 3 years of my life have stemmed from this decision to share our family with a child who desperatly thought she wanted to be part of a family. *sigh*
I don't have the time nor the energy to get my mind into this now, but soon.
Time to bake cookies for my daughters Valentine Dance tommorrow night. I oughta be able to kick out 6 dozen in 90 minutes huh??
I received this from a co-worker via e-mail. Claimed to be a true story. If so.. youchie!! If your squeemish, you might wanna skip this one hehe
HAIR REMOVAL MADE EASY
All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless removal - the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the EpilStop, and now ....The Wax.
My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work, fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours: maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet. I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. Youda thunk.
So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other, stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer! And heat the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will come back to haunt me.)
I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin extraordinaire!
With my next wax strip, I move north.
After checking on the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming one with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up into the inside of the right ass cheek. (Yeah, it was a long strip.)
I inhale deeply. I brace myself.
RRRIIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind! Blind from the pain! ....... Vision returning. Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing drums?
OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an Olympic gold medallist.
But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where Could the wax go, if not on the strip?
Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!"
And realize I have just begun living my own personal version of "The Tar Baby."
I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the toilet.
I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut. Ass? Sealed shut.
A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to shit anytime soon. Your head just might pop off." I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I should do next.
Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right? Wrong.
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment. And I sit.
Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.
So now I'm stuck to the tub.
I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school So surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's ever good to start a conversation with "So my ass and vagina are stuck to the tub."
She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the ass. "Are we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the giggles now.
I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call The number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know. You're going to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell them the truth."
While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!
In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to Other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations from C and we hang up.
I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the Hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet.
Never know when a moustache might start to come in.
Always fun for me is surfing the reffering page hits to my blog.
Here is this weeks list for fun:
Serendipity movie Maya Angelou as a child family tree 2nd grade paperclip trick underdog tattoos superbowl sandwichs (wish I had some) prison ink (nope, all pro stuff) extremely wet sex (sure.. right now?) javascript not enabled hotmail doesn't open (sorry to hear that) pregnant 8 weeks physical mommy (ummmm..NOT) bradley desrocher (who??) weekend getaways for feb 11-14 gymnastics for kids free children birthday banner sport bike babes (yep I am) calendar february 2005 halo and horns tattoo (cool idea, thanks) lets rock baby fat girls (Not fat, voluptuous! :) biker wives how to concieve (I can tell ya) 2005 orange jeep with modifications erotic babysitter (who wants one of these? ) scrapbooking school bus erotic travel florida kids take off your shoes simple snack popcorn fat girls [2] ( v o l u p t u o u s ! ! ) 2nd grade kids who don't pay attention (Can you say ritalen?) tattoo of the week stay at home mom when kids get sick pictures of ernie and bert (none here, sowwy) parking garage banners fat girls pictures todays sex position (umm doggie?) walmart parking lot (been there, seen that) tattoos that mean serendipity good gravel driveway ( wtf?) christmas get aways flashing lights graphic straight jacket teddybear scubadiving mental illness (if you have a mental illness, this might not be the sport for you) big dog motorcycles mammal farts ( lmao)
and my personal favorite: &nbs p; live kangaroos for sale
Who needs META tags when ya got silly search hits like this?? hehe
800 hits in under 6 days Woohoo. I better work on my content.
Anyone know anything about Irish juggeling surgeons doing origami??? :P
Superbowl Sunday yadah yadah yadah. I don't have an interest in who plays and even less in who wins. Yeah, I'll watch like the rest of the civilized world because, well I don't know why. I guess it is just the "todo" thing today.
I was invited to party tonight. Not going though. Only thing that seems more boring then watching the superbowl is going to a party and watchin it with a house full of drunken rowdy fans. I probably should go. I like the people having it, but the last few times I visited them they were all drinking pretty heavy. I just don't find it amusing anymore to be the sober person at an all drunk party.
I will sit home and watch it and play on the computer. Yep thats what I will do. I have a list of junk to keep my brain busy.
The kids are off doing their thing. The house is clean, I lit a few candles and some patchouli incense. That always relaxes me. The sun is shining and it is breezy warm so I have the windows open. Ahhh fresh air.
Had a disagreement with my sons coach this morning. He called because we missed practice this week on friday night. Guilty as charged. The kids have been sick all week and so was Brian.
The call was to "verify Dakotas commitment level to this team." Apparently coach thinks we have missed 1 practice a week for the last 3 weeks. I don't remember missing 1 a week. But I guess it is possible. We missed one 2 weeks ago due to my getting a last minute field trip and Brian had to work late.
The problem is that the call was NOT to verify my sons commitment to the team but to verify mine. My son is 11 he can't drive, he doesn't have a job and he depends on me to get him there. His commitment level is not in question. This is our 3rd year with the team. In 3 years we have yet to miss a game. And if we have missed 12 practices in 3 years I would be surprised. And all of our misses have been due to illness or work related inability to be present.
I am by far the poorest adult on the team. All of the boys have doctor type parents or self employed parents. And in most cases at least one parent stays home with the kids. I borrow money to pay my sons club dues, I stay at Best Westerns when we travel instead of at the $129. a night Marriot. I buy food at Publics and have picnics instead of going out for the group dinners. I rush home from work at 5 pm scoop up the boy and head across town to make practice by 6 pm 2 nights a week. Pretty freakin commited, if I do say so myself. So I guess having that challenged by someone who has no clue what I go thru every week would make sense to have pissed me off and hurt my feelings.
I tried to put myself in his shoes. 3 weeks before Region Cup and his star offensive player has missed a couple practices. I might be a tad freaked out. I might call the family to see if everything is ok. But do I attack their commitment?? I don't think I could do it. No matter how freaked I am.
I didn't handle the phone call very well on my end. I didn't yell or scream or anything like that, but I didn't say what was on my mind. Why do I do that?? Why do I have such a hard time stickin up for myself all the time?? And now I spend my day wallowing it over and over in my head as to whether or not to call back. What to say. How to handle it from this point.
Well, I finally got around to taken a few pictures of my ink.
I appologize for the poor quality. Self portraits are no easy feat.
I have pics of 4 of my 5 posted on my photo blog. Feel free to comment here or there, whichever is easier. I wasn't able to get a pic of my shoulder tat, but you can imagine the funny visual of me trying hehe
I just like posting them there instead of bloggin down the load time here
Now a days you can buy a printer for $50.oo This week I spent $65.00 on the ink cartridges that I have been procrastinating about buying for 6 months. Rediculous huh?
I bought the printer so that I could make my own photos. No more waiting for my film to be developed. No more wondering if the pictures turned out. No more being disappointed when someone blinked. I went digital!! Yeah Baby. Never thought I would see the day that my amatuer photographer azz went digital.
I went thru the original ink in my printer in about 3 months. I didn't even print that many pictures. I couldn't believe how quick the "out of ink idiot" light came on. So now my cheap azz takes digital pics. I load them on my computer, surf to the Wal-mart website and submit them for printing. I pick them up in an hour and it costs me a cool $0.24 per 4x6 print. Way cheaper then the ink indeed!!
I can even get 5 x 7's for under a dollar. No way my printer can spit out 65 enlargements on one ink refill. No way!!
Is it really any wonder that Brad and Jen split? I may be in the minority to say I am not surprised.
Think about it. Just because they are stars, does that mean they don't get star struck just like the rest of us? Imagine if all your friends were beautiful and famous? I don't think that goes away no matter how famous you are.
All the reporters following around taking pictures of you doing the things we all do everyday. Sure, it seems like fun for a day or so. (ok, maybe two) But after awhile, you gotta wonder how many pictures of you grabbin a latte at Starbucks a magazine really needs.
Then factor in being drop dead gorgeous. Constantly reminded just how beautiful you are on a daily basis by seeing your mug on the cover of every magazine and tabloid this side of the moon. People constantly fawning all over you.
I wouldn't think that being famous wo uld curve the natural instinct of jealousy. It would more than likely intensify it if every woman/man your partner came into contact with was also drop dead gorgeous.
Every marital tiff could potentially be your demise. How hard would you fight to make it work knowing you can get a date in a heartbeat? Knowing you can go hang out with Angelina or Jude to help soothe your broken heart.
Having money doesn't buy happiness, being attractive doesn't either. Being in the limelight, having the world put you on a pedestal and being surrounded by "Hollywood" can not be an easy gig.
It shouldn't be an excuse to be unfaithful or to have a marriage fail. But being a flirty natured person, I can see the recipe for disaster.
