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 You never know what you'll find - humor, ramblings, rants, randomness- it's all me! |
This description part is challenging. I never know what I will blog about until I start typing. I do know there will be typos. I don't reread or correct my blog. Otherwise it turns technical instead of my feelings and thoughts. Trust me, on stories and poems I'm a grammaraholic, but this is freedom. Sometimes to keep it from getting too personal, I even turn my head away while I type. Weird, right?. I hope you find this somewhat entertaining, thought-provoking, and humorous.   A little about me. The most important things in my life are family, especially my son, Reese, and my husband, Bruce, my walk with God, and making a positive impact in some way. I am a teacher, currently teaching 6th grade Language Arts. While at times my job can be trying, overall, it is one of the most rewarding passions in my life.   This is my wonderful son, Reese. He is now 20 and and a junior at Oklahoma State University. I may be partial, but he is an exceptional kid with the best heart I've ever known. He makes me laugh, think, and want to be a better person. We are both huge Oklahoma State Cowboy fans - Gooooooo Pokes!  This is Reese's dog, Betty. She shares a name with my mother. Reese named her that because she was beautiful and kind just like his Nanny (my mom). I'm not sure my mom is quite convinced it is a compliment though. Betty is a huge part of our family. She even had her own blog for awhile. Poke around at your leisure and shake your head at some of things that go through mine. I always return reviews/comments, though admittedly, sometimes it does take me awhile depending on what life is serving me at that point. Keeping the faith, Audra  |
| "Summer? Autumn? Winter? Spring? Which is your favorite time of the year and why is it your favorite? Tell what kinds of things you like to do during that season." winter winter winter winter winter winter winter wonderrrrrrrlaaaaaaaaannnnnnnddddd! I love winter. Why? Why the hell is there not to love? Maybe i'm a freak but I love being cold. I love coffee in the cold, hot tea, the occasional hot cocoa. Then we have christmas, my birthday, new years, valentine da (but I'm anti-valentines day but that's another blog). You have football and basketball. Coats, cuddling, fireplaces. and the best thing invented as far as a teacher is concerned - surprise snow days! I don't even care that we have to make them up. It's amazing to have a day stuck at home that you hadnt planned on. Snow, electric blankets, soups, chili, new tv shows. I like sweatshirts, online shopping, decorating the house for Christmas, not sweating my ass off, seeing your breath on cold mornings, cute boots, I just love winter. It makes me smile just thinking about it. Dear Winter, I love and appreciate you. Peace, Love, and a Cool Breeze, Audra |
"What if the "one that got away", the person who absolutely ripped your heart to shreds, came crawling back to you begging for another chance? How would you handle the situation?" To me the one that got away wasn't someone who ripped my heart to shreds, it was more someone I chose not to explore something deeper with. Sadly, I don't even remember his names. I was in college and he was a few years older - at the time it seemed a big deal, but I know it wasn't an age difference of greater than 10 years at the most. He had a job, a home, and treated me with respect. I suppose my immaturity at that time in my life blinded me from the great aspects of work ethic, financially competent and well, feeling as if I deserved the respect. As for crawling back to me? Well, that's hard to imagine since I wonder if he even remembers the bratty college student that got hung up on age and still liked to party a little too often. Maybe I felt I wasn't worthy. I don't know. Let's not think so deeply before 7:00 a.m., k? IF i did see him and remember his name, I would apologize for not seeing the kindness he showed me and realizing what a wonderful man he was. Instead of avoided his calls, I should have been upfront and honest about my . .. . . I don't even know what to call it. I wouldn't jump in his arms, for I'm seeing a wonderful man now. But I would give him a warm hug and thank him for giving me a preview of what in later years I would pray would come into my life. He was proof it existed. I wanna say his name was John, but I know that's not right. Dang, if only they had blogs 20 years ago I could look it up lol. Peace, love, and memories, audra |
| "When is it OK to lie? We all tell the occasional "little white lie". What makes them more acceptable than a regular lie?" Oh, to be witty or philosophical -- i'm so torn Let's look at liar liar pants on fire -- ironic huh? we are accusing someone of lieing and at the same time lieing to them that their pants are on fire -- shame shame, I know your name. This is hard because I hate being lied to. It's like the one thing I find hard to forgive. Guess I should have used it on my pet peeve prompt. but the thing is a do lie. Not big whoppers and not often, becuase I know I'll forget what i said and then have to lie more or get caught. What is that saying "oh the dangerous webs we weave when first we practice to deceive." and I think mark twain had one about the truth being easier to remember. i don't know. White lies: to me they are lies that are meant to keep from hurting someone. Like, "your hair looks great like that". However, I choose to instead say things like "I like how you are try different styles with your hair.". Because sometimes white lies can bite you in the ass. Like if you tell someone you love their nail polish so they bring the polish for you to borrow and you have to wear horrid mood changing nail polish and the sight of your own hands becomes revolting to you. Maybe too personal of an example? lol. I'm not going to say lies can be good, because in my soul i don't believe that. What I will say is that sometimes too much truth can be bad. Some things are better left unsaid. It's called tactfullness, sparing one's feelings and thus saving them money in therapy bills. by the way i've figured out the secret to this contest - insomnia. Not that I wouldn't rather be shaking the house with my snoring, but at least I've made it to day 4 without being late. A personal best for me I think. Peace, love, and zzzzzzz's, Audra |
| "You have been named as a suspect in a crime that you didn't commit (and had no knowledge that it even occurred). *Shock* It was a burglary and now you're being questioned by the police. Write the interrogation, from a handful of questions you are asked, to the answers you provide. Feel free to implicate other members as possible suspects to clear your name. "Ma'am, this will go a lot easier on you if you just fess up now." "Sir, this will go a lot easier on you if you quit talking Law and Order code and spit out what you mean. Fess up? This isn't Mayberry RFD." "Your continual sarcasm isn't doing you any favors. You know what you did. We've shown you the tape several times. There is no denying it's you." Chuckling, "You're delusional. You think I'm the only overweight, pasty white, circle under her eyes, hair in a ratty ponytail in this county? Do you have any idea how many single mothers there are that don't have time to go to the gym, find their makeup - much less put it on and have foregone a decent haircut to pay for school supplies? Besides, where the hell would I find time to mastermind what you are acting like is the crime of the century?" "Your son doesn't remember you being home last Tuesday night. How do you explain that?" "My son is a sweetheart, but he's 14. He doesn't remember where his shoes are when they are on his feet." "So where were you?" "Let's see . . . and this is just a guess mind you. Dropping my son off at school, going to my school to teach, followed by a curriculum meeting, then a PTA meetting, taking my son to tutoring. His memory isn't so good." Clears throat. "Cooking supper while grading papers, trying to remember if I showered that morning, making cupcakes for the bake sale the next day. Helping son with English homework. Calling cable company. They shut it off if you don't pay the bill . . ." "So you admit you needed the money. Ah- ha!" "Hell yes, I need money. I need energy and sleep too, but I don't see you questioning me about stealing from an electrical plant or a life supply of Ambien." "Maybe you've "selective" forgotten your plan of robbing the bank at the mall." Laughing, "The mall!? You are crazy. I haven't been to the mall since well the internet was invented. The mall? Why would I rob a bank at the freakin' mall? There is your proof. Trust me, if I'd been at the mall at least 40 kids I've taught would remember seeing me there. And it almost hurts me to say this, but I'm lookin' at your pics again here, and I know my ass is wider than that. Why don't you kiss it and get a good look?" "You are about to be arrested for . . . . police . . . um . . . disrespect." "You know what I just noticed? "The word 'rest' is in arrested. Sign me up, Barny Fife." Peace, love, and stay out of the pokey, audra |
| "What is your biggest pet peeve/gripe/grievance/whatever you want to call it? Why does it bother you so much? Here is your chance to use your writing talent to vent about what ails you. Use it wisely We just had this discussion at school. I got a lot of answers like: chomping ice, smacking food, sneezing in the morning (strangely 2 people said this - oh well, it is allergy season), interrupting, etc. All of which I completely agree with - even the sneezing - that's got to be bad to be woken up to. My list would be much longer, because apparently I'm easily irratated at small things. But if i have to choice one . . . . . . (that's the writer's signal for drumroll, please). . . . .it would be: Incompetence! Not to be confused with impotence or incontinence which I'm sure would both annoy me too. What I mean by incompetence is having the ability to do something and not doing it. I express this best with actual examples from life: 1. Walmart worker sleeping on the lawn furniture. Okay, even if perhaps it is your break, I'm not gonna want that lounge chair anymore and you sleeping on it just makes me want to shake you awake and ask which aisle has mechanical pencils. 2. Here is a conversation: me: where would the chalkboard paint be worker (term used loosely): I don't know me: I'm sorry - I thought that blue vest meant you worked here. worker (looking at attire): i do. We don't carry it. me: I saw it in the Sunday ad. worker: we don't carry it. me: where is the normal paint worker: few aisles down me: I didn't see it. worker: it's there She was right, the freaking CHALKBOARD PAINT was a few aisles down. These examples aren't the best because it makes me sound like some primadonna that expects to be waited on hand and foot, and that's not the case at all. I blame my dad. He instilled a strong work ethic in me. I work hard at my job, and if i don't know something I try to find the answer. Ooops which reminds me I need to look up the origin and actual reference of minding y our p's and q's. I think I know but I'd hate to be incompetent. Peace love and something else, audra |
| "If you had to decide between the two, would you rather forget all of your memories or never be able to make new ones?" Well, let's see . . . what a sucky choice to have to make. Either I lose all the memories that make up who I am or I quit experiencing life basically. Though I've had no caffiene yet, so my decision may be skewed, I would go with losing all my memories. Experiencing the first snow, my son's first words to me, the taste of homemade dumplings for the first time might be kinda coool. I mean I know the joy I get now from seeing my son experience something for the first time; almost like reliving that experience through him. Then again, I guess he would have to explain to me that he was my son. For some reason right now I find that hilarious. Ughh. . . I'm perplexed again. One of the things I like about myself is i have a good memory, and I'd have to throw that away and start again. But then again, I'd be throwing the bad memories out too. I'd have to relearn how to deal with pain and loss, though I don't think there is really a "way" to deal with it. I wouldn't remember my grandfather, but I know my grandmother would sure endless hours giving me the memories of him. Oh oh oh this is almost like THE GIVER. If you've not read the book, you need to. Thought provoking, various issues, well-written. It's by lois lowery. Okay, i've rambled enough. Well, not quite I have one more thing to say. Reason 26043 of why to proofread your writing (except of course in blogs) My students are writing to Marines overseas. As I read through their letters I came across this one: Dear Marine, I am from a small town named Jones. I do very well in school. In fact, I'm a straight student. I pulled the boy aside yesterday and asked him to look at it and see what might be wrong. He says, "Ohhhhhh man. I spelled straight wrong." "Ummmm no. Read it aloud." He did, as he turned a nice crimson red. "you weren't really sharing your sexual preferences with our service men were you?" I asked praying for the answer to be no. As all color drained from his face at my bluntness, while never meeting my gaze, he quietly pleaded to be able to rewrite it. One more for the books. Audra |
| Yep. . . it happened - a blonde karma moment. definitely karma because of yesterday's blog where I carried on about people being stupid, apparently forgetting I was one. And blonde - because I'm blonde and proved it once again. Okay, so I'm one of those people whose sight is so bad that if I take my contacts out before I have my glasses in hand I won't be able to find them. I came home very late the other night (no drinking involved despite what you'll choose to believe after reading this) and fell asleep in my contacts. If you have never done this let me tell you it is like waking up with a saltine cracker of fog etched in your eyes. All I wanted to do was get them out. I mummy-walked half blind to the kitchen to splash water in them to try to loosen them from my retina --- well, for some reason this brought on a burning sensation to the point i was sure the water company had replaced my H2O with acid. I grabbed a cup (from feel of course) and yanked my contacts out and dropped them in the cup. Realize I can't see now, but at least the burning sensation is no longer doing the disco inferno in my eyes. I stumble to my bedroom where thankfully i find my glasses without injurying myself further. Exhausted from the previous night and my contact excursion i laid down and fell asleep. I woke up hungry . . . about the only normal thing about me. Singing along with Prince on my Zune I heated up some oatmeal. Yum. . . It really was good; that wasn't sarcasm. I ate every bite just like Goldilocks - hey she was blonde too. When I went to go rinse my oatmeal cup i realized that it was the cup I had put my contacts in. So yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I ate my contacts. Lovely, huh? My son is sure it will give me superpowr of super eyesight inside and out. (Like I want to look at my intestines?) Moral: I was right - people are stupid lol Peace. love, and these things always happen to me, Audra |
| Yeah, seriously . . . no offense, because I'm assuming (ha - if I add -ing it doens't make an "ass" out of "u" and "me" -- nevermind) it is people that are reading this. But seriously, people are stupid. I ebay - sell, buy etc. So I put my son's $25.00 gift card to Academy on up for bidding. I didn't steal it technically. It's been in my purse for a year; I'm pretty sure he's not going to miss it. Now a gift card to gamestop would be a diffferent story. Anyway, the bidding is up to $27.00. Come on, peeps! The thing is valued at $25.00 and you still have to pay shipping. Is our desire to win greater than our own intelligence? I feel like just giving it to the guy that stopped bidding at $23.00 just for showing some good ole American common sense. Maybe I'm just a hater. I should be happy; I'm making a few bucks on moronic activity. I am happy, I'm just shaking my head. I'm not the most logical person; trust me. but I don't through my blondeness around for strangers to laugh at. Well, that's really all I had to say. I guess we all have our stupid moments. Peace, love,and profiting, Audra |
| If you have nothing else to do, look at yourself and see if there isn't something close at hand that you can improve. It may make you wealthy, although it is more likely it will make you happy. - George M. Adams - Who wants to look in the mirror? I spend my day trying to duck and dodge them. UHHHHHHHH self-reflection UUUUUGGGGHHHH. You know I'm kidding, right? Well, kinda.  It's just really that at this age, I've come to terms with my so-callled imperfections. Sure, I work on them, but I'm not expecting miracles. I know my limitations. . . and laziness. I prefer to live in my fantasy world where I'm a size let's just say 6, stubborn isn't a word people use to describe me, and every word that comes out of my mouth sounds somewhat intelligent. Okay, this has nothing t do with the prompt but I have to share. Because it's one of those things you HAVE to tell but if you tell 'real' (no offense) people in your life that might think you were a little off your rocker. Let's have a drum roll. . . . (I know some of you actually did it lol) I gave myself a black eye today. NOOOOOO not intentionally, I'm not stupid. . .just accident prone. How? you might ask. I'm going to try to be delicate here and maintain a hint of ladylikeness. I was relieving myself (you know we ladies tend to sit while we pee pee lol that sounds so funny - well, to me and my black eye - I've named him George - too ugly to be a girl). And I reached down because I noticed my son had left a wash cloth (washrag - depending on your region) on the floor. and somehow when I leaned up I hit myself in the eye with the doorknob that apparently wasn't there 2 seconds ago. So now I have a goose egg on my eye and George is blackening, PLUS i have to make up insane stories to tell people, because they wouldn't believe the truth AND I have no intention of admitting to it. Needless to say, my son ins doing the laundry for the rest of his life. Not really, he's not even home - at his dad's. If it hadn't hurt so bad, I would have laughed. Okay, okay, I did laugh, but not until that "oh my gosh, i'm going to puke from the pain" feeling went away. Catch you later peeps crazy enough to read my ramblings, Audra & George! ** Image ID #1529452 Unavailable ** |
"Difficulty is the excuse history never accepts." ~Edward R. Murrow Excuses are like buttholes, we all have them and they all stink. But is that true? Are there "good" excuses? Some may respond it's not an excuse it's a reason. Sematics. Maybe the definition of an excuse should be an obstacle we are either unable to overcome at the time or so choose to not conquer. I don't know. . . I'm just typing . . . wishing I had a glass of wine. Lol that's my excuse for not embracing this prompt the way it deserves. . . I have no wine. Wine = Muse. Not really. . . Actually, I can't remember the last time I had wine. Sigh, but it does sound good. So history never accepts an excuse, Mr. Morrow? This is one of those quotes that makes me want to find an exception. You know, like "i" before "e" except after "c" and in wEIrd cases. But honestly, history isn't my strong suit. Scary since I'm certifified to teach it. don't freak out, I don't teach it. Really, I'm pretty upfront. . . not a big excuse person. Maybe too brutally honest. I didn't come to your party . . .well, because I didn't want to. ouch - no, I'm a little nicer than that. "I didn't work out", because I'm lazy. "I don't have money, because I'm not a good manager of it." Excuses, or truths? Is it the same thing. I'm going to sign off before my head explodes and I die without any zinfadel wine in my system. Peace, love, and be kind to your parents no matter what age you are, audra When you don't know the answer, just keep talking until they stop caring. |
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