The Little Things

I started a new job very recently and the people are always the hardest part to leave behind.  My heart is heavy sometimes thinking about it.  I know I will keep in touch, but it's the knowledge that you don't get to see them all the time.  I didn't take advantage of the opportunity to visit with them like I should have or sometimes didn't appreciate them like they deserved.  SO THAT'S WHAT MAKES THIS NEXT PART SO SENSATIONAL!!!

The text I got this morning from someone very dear to my heart:

What day is it? HUMP DAY!! Whoop Whoop!  I hope you are having a great first week.

Yep, you guessed it, the Geico Camel commercial.  My wonderful friend put me on top of the world when I saw it.  They would say this every Wednesday.  I am soooo lucky.  I need to remember that.

So let it be written, so let it be done

Break-ups are inevitable as you grow up and sometimes as you grow old.  It's all about how you manage them.  Here is my girl tip to create some humor for the moment.

Remember in the movie The Ten Commandments when Pharaoh Seti says "Let the name of Moses be stricken from every tablet and book.  So let it be written, so let it be done."  This was my mantra for boys.  When they got into their weirdo fickle moods and felt the need to move on to another girl with some stupid line, this was my response: Let the name (insert boy name here) be stricken from our hearts and minds.  So let it be written...blah, blah, blah.  If they were moving on, so was I.  It helps to actually say it out loud with friends and then burn something of his in effigy.  Voodoo dolls optional. 

Favorite "I'm leaving you" lines:

"I don't know what I want right now" (no, you just didn't want to spend money on Prom) 

"I don't see a future with you" (I never saw a past or present, I just thought you were nerdy cute)

"You're not Christian enough" (you aren't evil enough) 

"She gave me sex" (and probably STDs) 

"She is prettier and tall" (okay that was true, but I have a way better job and haven't been divorced 3 times)

Girls, Enjoy life.  Sometimes live just for the moment.  Be self confident.

Dreams really do come true

When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, everything your heart desires will come to you...

People asked why I waited until the girls were grown to take them to Disney.  The answer is in these photos.  This memory will last a lifetime.

The excitement in their eyes and voices made every moment worthwhile.  

Dreams really do come true; even for moms. 

May all your dreams come true... 

Scared Senseless It Explains A Lot

You would think being afraid of the dark and having ghosts around would be enough to deter me from scary movies but no.  I think I was probably 14 when my friends and I went to see our first scary movie.  It was The Burning.  Sounds horrifying doesn't it?  We said we were going to see a Dustin Hoffman family flick - Kramer vs Kramer.  

So we went to the night show and were absolutely terrified.  The show opened with these kids setting this nasty guy on fire.  Then the next 90 minutes was blood, hacking, screaming, and more blood.  There was also some of my screaming mixed in.  I am fairly sure no one survived which makes you wonder how anyone knew it even happened; nonetheless, we left the theatre scared out of our minds.  I have not seen those actors in any other movie so naturally you have to assume they were really killed. 

I got home and was instantly quizzed about the movie I said I saw.  Good thing I saw the trailer for the Hoffman movie.  Then came the long dark walk of fear upstairs.  I could have swore the burned up guy was in my house.  I probably only took 2 breaths the entire night under my covers.  I was so tense I ached all the next day. I could hardly stretch my fingers they were clenching the sheets so hard. 

Did I learn anything?  Nope.  The next scary movie that came out we lied our way into.  I am fairly sure 20 years of my life was shaved off watching those flicks.  One day I'm gonna want that time back...

You will see it again at breakfast

Remember the days when you were at the table as a kid and didn't like something that was on your plate for dinner.  Remember how your parents understood, you asked to be excused, and then went outside to play.  Remember?!  SNAP OUT OF IT

You know damn well you had to sit there until you ate it.  Back in the day, you sat there until you filled your mouth with it and then swallowed it.  I remember sitting at the table for hours and not giving in.  I remember seeing that same damn thing on my plate for breakfast...AND NOW IT WAS ICE COLD.  One time my little brother completely filled his mouth with mashed potatoes (he hated them) and sat there gagging, eyes watering, until he was finally allowed to leave.  I think he got special dispensation cuz he was so stinking cute.  I didn't have that "out."  I was a smart mouth and rebel. 

Who made up that rule "you at least have to try it?"  I said I didn't like it, protested when it was put on my plate AND THEN was punished for not eating it??!!!  Somehow as an adult I see absolutely nothing rational about that approach.

To this day I refuse to eat asparagus, Brussels sprouts, and God help me if I ever am exposed to bean soup.  I just vomited a little in my mouth thinking about it.

I am sure I was supposed to learn something from that experience, but I'll be damned if I can't think of what that would be... Eat what you like my friends.

He has a fag in his mouth

It is so hot here.  As I was standing outside yesterday talking with a really good friend of mine and butt sweat was running freely, we were reminded of Nebraska, July 1997.

We were in Fremont.  We drove to the outskirts of town and began our work.  It was the hottest part of the summer and it was so humid.  The temperature was 115 degrees inside the metal building.  There were huge tanks and about 19 cats.  They were there to keep the mice down.  They roamed freely in and out of the building and rows of corn surrounding us.

The molasses started to flow, the sweet smell filled the air sending out an invitation...and the flies started to arrive.  As we continued making the liquid feed, the number of flies increased.  We were sweating profusely by this time.  The flies were walking around the frame of my glasses and sitting in my hair.  The cats walked along the edges of the large vats of our sugary smelling mix.  It was clearly one version of Hell.  I visualized that if I didn't become a better person, the end for me would involve a room filled with spiders or this - suffocating humidity, cats, and more flies than the Amityville Horror.

Just then one of the workers began counting.  When he counted 19, he hooked up the hose and began to pump our mix through the hoses to the outside storage tank where our study would commence.  I asked him why he counted.  He said "the cats" as though annoyed with my question.  "Sometimes they fall in and clog the lines."  That is one of the most disgusting things I had heard to that point.

I have never been so happy to be done with a day and change out of my clothes.  I think I just threw them away.  You can't get sweat like that out, ever.  The night though was filled with the best steak I had ever tasted and gambling at the local casino.  At the very end of the evening, we had to stop at the local Walmart and get some buckets for the next day.  As we walked through the parking lot toward our motel, my co-worker proceeded to say "look at that guy over there with the fag in his mouth." I didn't hear anything after that.  "Um, what, that is completely inappropriate?!"  I am pretty sure the look on my face clearly shown what my mind was thinking...He immediately realized what he had said.  Fag is English slang for cigarette.  I think that may have been one of my first cultural differences experiences.

I have captured that in my little book of sayings I have heard over the years.  It is between "I don't have a pot to piss in" and "Cold as a witch's tit."  

She doesn't do math

Emmy is sitting counting the money from her piggy bank.  So far she has 3 rows each with 9 stacks of 4 quarters.  She says "what's 9 x 3?"  I just look at her.  

Emmy:  18

Me: no words just a look of disgust of my parental failure

Emmy:  30, no 27

Me: oh.my.God.

Emmy:  I told you I wasn't good at math.

Not good??! this is cause for concern.

Emmy: what's this 10 pence?  I don't accept foreign money.

At least she knew it was foreign.  Ah, art majors...I feel quite confident the man who invented the Coin Star had a child who couldn't multiply.