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 |  Newest Entry: July 24 - New Contest |
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I used to have this wonderful long description here of exactly what this journal would be... but I cannot say that it was entirely accurate. The journal has taken a mind of its own, so I guess the only description I can really give it is: A Collection Of My Thoughts As I have discovered many times in my writing, as well as in my life - things don't always go the way you plan them to. I am still happy with this journal, however. It gives me a place to lay down how I am feeling, or even just to document what I've been doing. Not bad, huh? Feel free to putter through the entries, and come back to visit often! You never know what you might find here. Newest entries are at the top of the list. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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| You know what I get tired of during this season of love? No, no... not the lovey dovey couples. Hell, they have it, let them have it. No reason to deny it to them. What drives me nuts... is all of the people that don't have it, and gripe about it. Then state that they hate the holiday, because they have no one to "love". (Whereas, if they had someone, they'd adore the holiday and be swooning with everyone else.) Come on! Look around you. There are plenty of people to love, even if you're not attached to someone. I'm sure you have friends... who says that Valentine's Day excludes them? "But they're all coupled," you say. Who cares? I have five ladies at work that I'm going to take Valentine's Day gifts... and we're all coupled, too. It's not about what you do in bed. It's not about who you kiss. Valentine's Day is a day of love, and there is more than one kind of love. Appreciate your friends, and what they are for you. You don't have a guy to give you chocolates, or a girl to give chocolates to? Who cares! Enjoy yourself, anyway. As with all holidays, this one is what you make it. If you want to be miserable, you'll be miserable. If you don't, you won't. |
| What can I say? I  it. Totally, completely... it makes me giggle. Look! http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=010701 http://www.nuklearpower.com/comics/010718.gif http://www.nuklearpower.com/daily.php?date=010723 Completely giggle-worthy. That, of course, is very far into the series. If you'd like to giggle (and get hooked) yourself, you can find it at www.nuklearpower.com. Start with the first one, and just click the "Next Comic" link at the bottom. It'll take you through in order. Like a soap opera - each comic is linked to the one before, and it never seems to end. Unlike a soap opera.... you don't WANT this one to end. :) |
| I hate being sick. About this time every year I get something... I usually call it crud (lovely name, yes?)... in my throat. It just sits there - a tiny bit too far down to come out with coughing, but far enough up to give me major malfunctions. I often find myself with a sore throat, headache, and a hacking cough. It hurts very badly to cough because of the sore throat, and... I lose my voice. Yay! I wouldn't be the first one to do it this year. One of the coaches is out with Pneumonia, another teacher has Bronchitis, most of the kids have some sort of sickness or another, and another teacher lost her voice sometime last week. Yech. We'll all make it through, though. I live on Theraflu during these times, and while it doesn't last long, it gets rid of the symptoms better than most. That might be partially because of the steam from the hot water, but I won't go guessing. I'll just use what works. Yay for medicine. |
| I've been considering writing about this for several days, but it is a little difficult for me to write about. I think you'll understand why in a moment. One of my biggest fears is that I will lose a student to death. I don't care how much I "like" or "dislike" a student, I'd break if one of them passed. On Tuesday evening, one of the students in my school was put into intensive care. Around here there is no hospital, so he was rushed elsewhere. Taken first to an emergency room at a clinic a half an hour away, and then flown by helicopter to a much larger hospital. He is one of the few in the school that is not my student, but his brother is. No matter, though. When I am in a school with only 155 kids, they are ALL my kids. It doesn't matter that I have only about half of them physically within my classroom. He is not my student because he is what is called an "inclusive" student. He has Muscular Dystrophy, and so has a hard time doing things like feeding himself, going to the bathroom, and other things. His muscles do not hold him up well, and so literally, one hip is resting against one side of the wheelchair, and his body rests against the other side, as if his spine were an L shape. His wheelchair is a very nice one, and goes 29 mph. The boy uses all of those, scaring the hell out of most of us by barreling down the hallway - he has amazing control, though, and can dodge us at the very last minute using his tiny little control stick near his left hand. He loves his little jokes, gets mad easily, but also easily forgives. However, when he's mad, expect him to be mad for a very long time. He'll hold a grudge for a week or more, sometimes. At the beginning of this year, he was able to feed himself. About October, that stopped... he has had to be fed ever since. His brother is called out of my class daily to help him use the restroom - it's more comfortable for his brother to lift him... and easier. His brother is a big boy, very strong. I learned recently that he's as strong in spirit as he is in muscle strength. On Tuesday night, John's lung collapsed. They expected him to be in the ICU for a very long time, but this morning I was informed by his brother that he'd be out tomorrow! That is... absolutely amazing. His brother mentions (I ask him every day) that they can't explain the rate at which John is recovering. He is supposed to be out of ICU tomorrow, and possibly home by next week. Keep him in your thoughts. I don't want this to be the year that I lose a student. I don't want this to be the year that I have to watch a 17 year old young man break down at the loss of a family member who is only 14. (I had to watch it a few years ago when one of my students lost her father. It was heart breaking... and you can only do so much to help - as much as the student will LET you do.) Facing fears can be... you guessed it... frightening. |
... like Robert Waltz  and I, who get driven nuts if there are missing or too many commas - I found a couple websites to include with your reviews, if you'd like. You see, I find that correcting it for them doesn't teach them anything - you'd have to do it to every item that they have. If they're missing only one rule, I stick it in there for them. If they're completely comma illiterate, you can include the website. The rules are simple, easy to read, and include examples. Take a look! (Overview of Comma Rules) http://people.cs.uu.nl/ronnie/local/LEO/punct/comma.html (Comma Splices, Fused Sentences, and Run-ons) http://people.cs.uu.nl/ronnie/local/LEO/punct/csfsro.html If you want the main site where all of the Literacy Education Online things can be found, here it is: http://people.cs.uu.nl/ronnie/local/LEO/#commas |
| This summer, my camera quit working. It was a 4 mega pixel Sony Cybershot, bought approximately two weeks before the 5 mega pixel came out. The same two weeks it took us to get enough cash to buy hubby's camera... so he ended up getting the 5 mega pixel for the same price. I was happy with mine... until the flash went out. See, I take pictures for the fun of it - my husband actually loves it. Adores it. Would make a career out of it, if he could. I just like goofing off with a camera... a $500 toy, huh? Well, once mine went this summer, we got him a new one for his birthday. $850 8 mega pixel... goodness, I don't even know the brand. I just let him go get it. (Spoiled man) The same one he wanted the zoom lens for, because his camera is big, fancy and can change lenses. I inherited his 5 mega pixel. I like it because it fits in my purse without a problem, and really... it's not so bad. See? ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Blue eyes. So few cameras let my eyes actually be blue. Most of them turn my eyes a horrid red color and make me look demonic. (Which might be accurate. I do tell my students every year that I am evil... I teach math. What person who teaches math isn't evil?) Anyway, yeah, having fun! |
| I got this in my teacher's box this morning, and it gave me a little giggle. I love kiddos - though I imagine dealing with this on a daily basis would drive me pretty nuts. It's why I teach high schoolers - when they say something, they mean it EXACTLY as it is said. Anyway, enjoy these little jokes. They certainly made me giggle. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Maria, go to the map and find North America. MARIA: Here it is. TEACHER: Correct. Now class, who discovered America? CLASS: Maria. --------------------------------- TEACHER: John, why are you doing your math multiplication on the floor? JOHN: You told me to do it without using tables. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Glenn, how do you spell "crocodile?" GLENN: k-r-o-k-o-d-i-a-l TEACHER: No, that's wrong. GLENN: Maybe it's wrong, but you asked me how I spell it. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Donald, what is the chemical formula for water? DONALD: h-i-j-k-l-m-n-o TEACHER: What are you talking about? DONALD: Yesterda you said it's H to O. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Winnie, name one important thing we have today that we didn't have ten years ago. WINNIE: Me! --------------------------------- TEACHER: Glen, why do you always get so dirty? GLEN: Well, I'm a lot closer to the ground than you are. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Millie, give me a sentence starting with "I". MILLIE: I is... TEACHER: No, Millie... Always say, "I am." MILLIE: All right... "I am the ninth letter of the alphabet." --------------------------------- TEACHER: George Washington not only chopped down his father's cherry tree, but also admitted it. Now, Louie, do you know why his father didn't punish him? LOUIS: Because George still had the axe in his hand. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Now, Simon, tell me frankly, do you say prayers before eating? SIMON: No, sir. I don't have to. My mom is a good cook. --------------------------------- TEACHER: Harold, what do you call a person who keeps talking when people are no longer interested? HAROLD: A teacher --------------------------------- Hehe... I hope you found a few that gave you a little giggle, too. Or at least a chortle or a chuckle. A laugh? |
| I've heard that depending on when you take these personality tests, they might give you different results. Depending on how you are feeling one day, or how old you are... or even what kind of mood you are in or what circumstances you've run into. I... have always gotten the same result with every one that I take. ENFJ - Idealist - the Sage, the Giver, or the Teacher There are some things written in some of the profiles that are... very much me, I suppose. Occasionally I sway away from it, but overall, the profiles are right on target. Let me show you a few: From http://www.geocities.com/lifexplore/enfj.htm Loving For the ENFJ, love means flowers, poetry, candlelight dinners --- in other words, romance with a capital R. When they first fall in love, they fall in love with an ideal perspective of what the relationship will be, and they fall deeply, head over heels. ENFJs value commitment and loyalty, and look for it from their partner. They typically enjoy activities with their partners that allow them to discuss the relationship and focus on what each person truly believes. When commitments are broken, ENFJs become upset because they see the breakup as a personal reflection on them and because they have idealized the relationship. Since they are willing to put the time and effort into the relationship, they expect it will continue on as it was from the very start. Relationships have their ups and downs; the downs, however, are particularly hard on the ENFJ, who does not manage disharmony well. When scorned, ENFJs may be resentful, spiteful, and deeply hurt. Because they are acutely aware of emotional matters they take the breakup of a relationship especially hard. They are willing to discuss the ending of the relationship with only a few others because they feel a sense of blame and shame for the relationship not working out. That above is perfect. Right on. Exact. I have always blamed myself for all relationships that go wrong - whether they are friendships or love situations. I even blamed myself when I broke up with the man who tried to rape me when I was seventeen. From http://typelogic.com/enfj.html TRADEMARK: "The first shall be last" This refers to the open-door policy of ENFJs. One ENFJ colleague always welcomes me into his office regardless of his own circumstances. If another person comes to the door, he allows them to interrupt our conversation with their need. While discussing that need, the phone rings and he stops to answer it. Others drop in with a 'quick question.' I finally get up, go to my office and use the call waiting feature on the telephone. When he hangs up, I have his undivided attention! Gosh, I'm terrible about this sort of thing. My poor students my first couple of years teaching... I learned how to get around it, though, and how to tell someone to wait just a moment, if they could. Often, I'll just figure out who will take the longest, and do them last. It took me a while to get to that technique, though. EDIT: For the record, yes, I know what I just said above here. It's not what I intended, but when I re-read it, I giggled... and so I left it there. Those of you out there that will take it wrong (and there are a few who read this journal on a regular basis that will), enjoy.  |
| So... I'm going to set about trying to rekindle the romance in my relationship with my husband. There used to be a lot more... of everything. Desire, stomach flips, little kisses on the neck... everything that used to be there has been bleh for quite a long time. I, quite literally, have to already be naked for anything to happen. (Who can resist, that, huh?) So, I've got some ideas. Climbing under his computer desk. Short shorts. Short skirt. Letters. Drawings. ... I need some nice dresses to tease with. I'll handle that later, though. No clothing stores where I live. Bleh. |
| Wow, do I have a bit of a rant today, I'll admit. There was a point in time when my husband was very considerate. If he got something from the kitchen, he'd ask if I wanted it. If he's making food, and adding a little extra something to his, he'd ask if I would like it to. If he was contemplating spending money on something at the store or on ebay, he would let me know. Not a permission thing, that's never been necessary, but I'd at least know about it. Now, things are very different. (I still do all of the above things whenever he's in the room. Sometimes even when he's not. If I'm going into the kitchen, I ask him if he wants something. If I'm getting ice cream, I get him a bowl, etc.) Yesterday he was watching an ebay auction about a zoom lens for his camera. He had bid $160 max on it. When did I learn about it? 30 minutes before the end of the auction. Why did I learn? Because our internet went down for two hours, and he freaked about not being able to find out about his auction, and so he logged into ebay on his phone. If I went to ebay and bid over $100 on something without telling him, I'd be in deep shit. He'd get pissed off, tell me how we can't afford it, etc. He does the finances, so of course, he'd know. Even when I do ask anymore, I get told that we don't have the money, and so he's bidding on things when he tells me we can't afford it. Lovely. At one time, he'd get me something when he got himself something. SOMETIMES he still does that. Diapers are about the same way. He's allowed to spend the money, I'm allowed to change the diapers. He tells me when their diapers need to be changed, and then just sits there. I've mentioned this several times, but after three and a half years... I'd given up. I gave up about two years ago, to be exact. Our conversation yesterday went like this: "Hannah stinks. She needs a diaper change." "I guess that's my job." I got up. "I have changed a few diapers. One or two in the past month." "That's about right. You just tell me it needs to be done, and you sit there." "I should stop that." "I'd appreciate it." "... I'll stop tomorrow." "Right." These are only two examples, of course. It makes me feel, quite strongly, that I'm no longer appreciated. Instead, I'm being taken advantage of. I'm an inconvenience, and he's becoming very... self absorbed. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I spoiled him, I don't know. But... I miss being spoiled in return. Sometimes I'm still spoiled. I get most things that I ask for, as mentioned previously in this very same journal. I'm just... getting tired, I guess, of certain issues. What makes me more upset, is that he's aware of them, and does nothing about it, even though he knows that they irritate me. |
| Bleh hair. Have you ever had bleh hair? My hair gets that way every couple days or so. Even when it's not "bleh", I don't do anything to it... so I suppose it's one of those hairstyles that ALWAYS falls into the "bleh" category. Yesterday, it was more bleh than usual. I had my hair up in a ponytail. Usually, this isn't so bad. Occasionally, though, I get what my husband loves to dub "wings". My hair looked all... poof-ish, and it sticks out on either side of my ears. I try to tuck it behind, but no go... so it looks like I'm flying away for the winter. Windblown... without the wind. I wore a skirt to make up for it, though! |
| I hate being nagged. Last night on the way home, I called my husband and asked about something that I wanted to make for dinner. It takes a while, which is why I went ahead and asked. I mentioned I'd make him a little snack to hold him over, and he said it was fine. So, I did all of these things, and did the dishes while I was waiting for it to cook. RIGHT after I put it in the oven, my husband tells me, "You know, you should have just prepared this tonight and then cooked it tomorrow. We're going to be eating late." That's why I had made him a snack. I asked him if he wanted something else to eat, and he said no, he'd wait. So I continued doing dishes. Gradually, his grumbling got louder and louder, and I found him a way to get his dinner a little earlier. (The middle wasn't quite done, so I cut off the heel of the meatloaf so it would cook faster for him, then threw the rest back in to finish.) Seriously, though, that is why I asked before going to the store to get the necessaries. Then, this morning, he asked me if I was going to take a shower. I said yes, and hit my snooze button just ONE more time. (My alarm will ring at exactly 6:32... that's usually the time I get up to take my shower.) It takes 8 minutes for my alarm to ring after I press the snooze. He asked me two more times if I was going to take a shower, making the snooze obsolete. I said yes, fine, forget it, I'll just get up now... and I did. I went to take my shower, and was pretty pissed. Nagged all evening, and then nagged in the morning. So, when I get back to the room after my shower, he informs me that the reason he was asking me constantly is that yesterday he didn't have any hot water. (I was running late yesterday, and didn't get into the shower until about 6:45.) He said that it only happens when I wake up after 6:30. You know, if he would have told me that LAST night, I would have made sure to get up in enough time to ease his mind about getting some hot water for the shower. I told him as much... that instead of picking at me when I'm groggy and still asleep, he should have told me, and I'd have woken up earlier for him. He said, "I thought that's what I was doing. I guess I'm wrong." .... I told him that I wanted him to tell me BEFORE nagging, so I can fix it without getting pissed off. I think it was an, "Oh." moment. Just... grr. --------------------------------- This morning's sunrise was beautiful. The clouds were long and thin, some a little puffy while others looked like the stroke of a paintbrush across the sky. And the colors... pink, orange, and red. I've missed my sunrises. They are behind me, but that's actually a positive thing, because I don't burn my eyes with the rising sun. Even after the frustrations of last night and this morning, it helped a little to calm me down. A very, very large hug would also help. |
School starts again tomorrow for me. I'm a little excited to get back because I miss the kids and my coworkers, but I admit that staying home has its benefits, as well.  Taking a nap, spending all day goofing off, only having to worry about housework... too bad I can't get a good job from the house.Anyway, I'll also be teaching online for the next ten weeks, it appears. I'll be handling the class attached to this group: "Invalid Item"  . It's been a whirlwind trying to get everything ready these last few days, but hopefully it'll calm once everything is said and done. |
| I spent most of yesterday speaking to someone that I haven't known all that well for approximately twelve years. We have, of course, seen one another on a very rare occasion, though less since I graduated nine and a half years ago and moved away from the city I went to high school in. He was (and still is) an extremely warm individual, caring, sweet, and... as a consequence was probably my biggest high school crush. Oh, the old times! We talked about a lot that we probably should have said a very long time ago. Admitted to some things, made unnecessary apologies, and went through the whole process. There were a lot of "I should haves" from his side, and my response was, "We were kids." And we were. I was fifteen, and he was seventeen. It's good to cleanse the soul like that, sometimes. Sure, I'm married, but that does not mean that I don't have memories. The memories become manageable when they are talked out, and I'm glad he was willing to chat them away with me. Now, we can approach each other, twelve years after the fact, with an absolute (and sincere) promise to be friends - and let what happened in the past lie there. Known, acknowledged, but now less important than how we can bless each other's lives now. My husband cares very little about my high school friends. As time passes, I'm connecting with more and more and more of them, and I'm absolutely loving it. To see the ones that have gotten married, or the ones that have children - it is all very exciting. I try to tell him, but he admits freely that he doesn't care and doesn't want to hear it because he does not know these people. (For the record, even though I don't know the people he's talking about sometimes, I listen... because it is important to HIM.) When I suggest that we go meet them, I get an odd look, a shake of the head, and he goes back to whatever he was doing before. Maybe someday. Or... maybe I'll convince my best friend from high school to start nagging him about coming and visiting so her mom can meet the kids. We can connect with all of my old friends while there, and he can just face the music that way. (Actually, I rather like that idea.) Maybe I can figure out a way to make that one work, and we'll spread out in some park and have a HUGE picnic, or something. |
| Oh... my... goodness... I was looking through my old stories today. When I say old, I mean three years ago, two and a half years ago, two years ago... when I first started on this site. The benefit to this, of course, is that I can see what improvements I've made... and even, in a way, marvel at what I used to put out! I have no idea where some of that stuff came from, and it's not half bad. The drawback is that, in looking at what improvements I've made, I found some glaring problems. I almost made my own eyes bleed with my verb tense changes! Present to past, and back to present again - it's like I thought I'd get a wrapped up box on my porch if I sprinkled in the occasional "present" tense verb. UGH! I've been trudging through, though, and fixing. I don't actually touch the story... perhaps I should, but I need to be able to read it without twitching first. I'm shocked at what I used to produce. A lot of it is sappy, some of it is a lame attempt at comedy, and some of it successfully reaches the comedic level. (Sadly, those things that reach the comedic level are the TRUE stories. My wedding, the fight with the snow drift, and a dog my parents owned... what a mess.) I even have one that tries the creepy thing... but falls a bit short and aims more toward "cheesy". I'll keep them open, though, for the authors on this site to read. They may be lameish, but they are ME... sentimental values. How sweet? |
| I got a video up of my children, finally, on myspace.com. Since I cannot create videos here, I thought I'd at least link it for you: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&VideoID=25119025 It was set over our trip to Disneyland this summer. We visited for their third birthday, and had a blast. Don't get me wrong, though. This isn't inside Disneyland - this was back at the hotel when both parents were collapsed exhausted on top of the bed. The children, very obviously, were NOT exhausted. |
| In-laws, in-laws, in-laws. My in-laws are usually okay. My father-in-law is currently very grouchy, but that's actually understandable. Because of an infection, and all sorts of other difficulties, he cannot walk. For the first two days, in fact, he was a complete invalid. He stared right through you, mouth agape... it scared me a bit. When he came to, however, our third day there, he was ornery as ever. Determined to think that we were hiding his medications, denying him food when we'd just fed him an hour before, demanding to be moved - and where the hell is his therapist? Wasn't he supposed to be there an hour ago!?! Yeah... And then there was my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law enjoyed us being there, and my brother-in-law took a few days off from his daily visits to help with his father because we could do it - which was actually fine. What I don't like... is when she undermines me. My son gets a lollipop from her for breakfast. Fine and dandy... it's tiny, no big deal, he'll get eggs in a sec when they're done. So he finishes it, and then walks up and asks for another. I say no, he's already had one. We are only allowed to have one lollipop at a time. Not a minute later, he walks out happy as a clam... with a lollipop in his hands. I was pissed. This is a very common occurance. TOO common. Cake for breakfast after mommy says no... a ton of shit after mommy says no. Hubby always found it funny and thought I was just being anal for no reason, until she did it to HIM. It took three and a half years, but she finally did it to him. He said no, and two seconds later, the kids have what they were asking for. He laid into her, corrected the situation, and moved on. I think he understands now. I had actually gotten to the point where I wondered why in the hell I even tried to bother disciplining my kids or trying to keep them from becoming brats while at Abuelita's house. So I backed off, and then I get fussed at because I'm not correcting anything - and that was frustrating as well. Why correct it, when it's just going to be taken back by her in a minute anyway? And then, there was the day we were trying to leave. We intended to leave about noon or so, get back to our own house about 3 - do some laundry, recover from the visit... I should have known. Every time we try to leave, BOTH of them try to stall us until it is very late, because somehow, they think we'll stay instead of driving in the dark. We left... at 7:30 pm. First, she had to go to the bank. We needed to watch my father-in-law. It won't take long, she promises! (3 hours - this was right as we were trying to leave - we were already a little behind.) Then, well, the kids haven't eaten! They have to eat - it's not right to make them try to eat in the car! (2 hours - preparing the meal, and then trying to get them to eat it. They still didn't.) But, you haven't eaten, either! You have to eat! We refused by saying we weren't hungry. Instead, we packed up the car, stuffed the kids in, and just... went. Ugh! It doesn't help matters much that I cannot speak to my mother-in-law. She speaks Spanish, I don't. I speak English, she doesn't. It's a bad combination, and sometimes we manage to communicate, but she didn't even try this go-round. Probably because "no" is the same in both languages, and she KNEW she was giving the kids things I'd already told them they couldn't have. ----------------- When I finally got home, though, I got a nice and pleasant surprise. I logged onto writing.com, and I had a huge amount of email. This is, admittedly, a bit odd, so I sorted through it... and discovered that someone (*clearsherthroatNikola~Loving Her Gracie Girl!  coughcough*) had started at the very beginning of this very blog, and read ALL the way through it, commenting on a lot of things along the way.It gave me a big smile, and a sigh, and helped me rid myself of the stuff I'd been dealing with the five days previous. Thanks.  |
| Usually, over the Christmas holiday, we end up in three different cities, all about 8 hours from one another. We spend a few days here, a few days there, and then come back just in time to start work again - so our break is not really a break at all. It is full of exhausting car trips, far too much food, and cranky kids - because bedtimes don't exist at grandparents' and great-grandparents' houses, you know. This year it will be more leisurely, but for a very sad reason. Sometime back, I mentioned that my father-in-law was in the hospital. They still really don't know what's wrong with him, but after a certain number of days, the VA refused to pay for his medical anymore. My mother-in-law and her son had some money saved up, and they tried to pay for the hospital themselves, but $1000 a week was getting to be far too much, so now he is at home. My mother-in-law had to quit her job, and she's having to stay home and take care of him. He's still having oddball hallucinations, he's bleeding out the back, he has a catheter in, and he refuses to walk - so my grandmother is subjected to changing his diaper, bathing him... everything. So... we are only going to see them this year, rather than driving halfway around New Mexico and Texas to see everyone. My mother is not very happy at the prospect. She wants to see my husband (since he's lost weight and is lookin' pretty damned handsome - granted, I thought he looked good before), and more importantly, she wants to see the kiddos. They only get to see them about twice a year anyway, and this is one of those times. (Granted, we did invite them to go with us to Disney World this summer when we take the kids, but they decided not to go. They have my grandmother home with them.) My own grandfather and grandmother are the ones I'd really like to see. My grandfather is a surviver of cancer and one of the sweetest men you've ever met. He was the one who would always bring me ice cream when I was watching TV - topped with nuts, as much whipped cream as ice cream, and a whole slew of cherries. He is also the most patient man I've ever met. My grandmother has the worst temper of any man or woman I have ever seen in my entire life. One time, as a child, I witnessed a tantrum of hers. She couldn't find a pan, so she was taking every pan out of the cupboard and chunking them across the kitchen. My grandfather, patient and loving as he is, quietly gathered up each pan as they were thrown, then put the pan that she needed on top of the stove. (In her anger, she found it, didn't realize it, and threw it across the room with the others.) So, it will be a quiet Christmas. Less traveling, and probably more rest - but I'll still miss the regular routine. At least a very little. |
| Wow, the alcohol. I very, very rarely drink. Very. I've always wanted to try a Long Island Iced Tea, though. Last night, at our district party, I did. Notice that I say I very rarely drink? MAN, that drink is actually very good, but I felt lightheaded very quickly. I promptly put the majority of it aside until I'd eaten more of my dinner, and just sipped on it the rest of the evening - and that kept me rather lightheaded. I don't drink often because I don't like losing control. My tongue was a little hard to maneuver, but other than that, I kept very good control of myself. No giggles, no unusual behavior... just a little lightheaded sensation that I didn't mind much at all. The food was AMAZING. Beef K-Bob, beans, cole-slaw (with pineapple - very surprising, and delicious), corn on the cob... very, very good. And... the spiked tea was actually a very good side to it. I was wearing "the jeans", described earlier and bought over Thanksgiving. Hubby washes them on purpose, so they cling every time I wear them - can't have them stretching out, apparently. They're actually still very comfortable, and I finally got to see myself in a full-length mirror with them yesterday. I've lost about 5-10 pounds this year, and you can tell. I look nice and thin, and I'm back to wearing the sizes I did before I had my babies 3 and a half years ago. Nice tight jeans, red sweater... and I got lots of things that smell nice from my secret santa. (Sweet Pea everything... I so want to take a nice long bath.) It was a good evening. |
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This is absolutely hilarious! My kind of humor.
Hope everything's okay.
