What should I wear..
I think I'll wear my sailor suit..and now to prepare...
What lady doesn't like chocolate? This should score me some big points!! Look out head pat and cuddles, here I come!! Pfft... and they say chocolate is bad for dogs! I say...depends how you use it! *wink
Drew and I finished our shopping tonight and decided to stop at the McDonalds in Walmart to have a coffee before heading home. The only table available was a long bench connected by individual tables. We got our coffee and sat down. Drew across from me - me on the bench. Sitting on the bench next to me (at the next table) was an older woman...probably in her 70's. A well-groomed- looking good for her age -70's...but 70's non-the-less. She is sitting there all alone..when suddenly..this older (70ish) man approached her. He asked if he could sit with her. She politely replied that she was waiting for someone and was obviously not interested in making conversation with him. He smiled and took a seat (on the same bench) at the table next to her. It was quite obvious he was trying to score, and even more obvious as he tried to make conversation with her. But she continued to play hard to get. The conversation went on for a few minutes as he asked if she was from town and blah blah blah. Still this woman seemed disinterested in his advances and spoke very little back to him. Until finally he made a comment about her scarf... Him :"that's a pretty scarf you have on there. It brings out the color in your eyes" Her: a smile. "Thank-you that's nice of you to say" Him: pardon? Her: "I said, thank-you that's nice of you to say" Him:"Your Welcome"..(as he slides over on the bench and is now sitting next to her at the same table) Him: "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, I forgot my hearing aid, so I'll have to sit next to you" Her: "OH...ok" (extends hand)" Hi..my name is Mary" Drew: (whispers)..."Damn...70 years old and still got it."
What is there to do when time is rushing by faster than anything you’ve ever experienced. It's screaming, "ready set…. go!" but all you can bring yourself to do is mutter feebly "wait…I'm not ready" *sigh* It's hard to believe that my youngest daughter will be graduating in just a few short weeks. Where does the time go? It seems like only yesterday we attended her kindergarden graduation. I still remember her proud little smile as she waved at us from her place in line. Swaying back and forth at the microphone when her turn came to say her part. She never missed a beat. Every word - clearly spoken. Even then she was strong and confident. That's the thing about my daughter...she has never been afraid to speak her mind. And although I have always been proud of the way she stands up for herself - refuses to be controlled by peer pressure - and lacks all fear to be different, it has also been the source of my greatest frustration. The dreaded teen years. Or should I say "The Rebellious Years." Those years gave Drew and I more grey hairs than I care to count. Her quest to be queen of the late night social scene just did not jive with ours to keep her on the right path. "Other kids stay out 'til 2am. Why do I have to be in at 12:30?" "Because we're your parents? Because we worry? Because we want to get at least one decent night's sleep?" It's funny how our generation expects a seriousness from our kids that we never exhibited ourselves. We lecture them, saying "don't make the same mistakes we did." The same lecture our parents gave us. What makes us think our kids will listen any better than we did? We had to discover things for ourselves. And let's face it... the "don't do it's" were some of the most fun things to try. Will our daughter make mistakes? Of course! Which is probably why we cringe whenever she leaves the driveway..lol. But I also know she has to experience life - learn from your her own mistakes and carve her own path. It's difficult to let go, but I know that my girl will be fine. She's growing into a fine adult. And if the stars aline just right, may she, about 30 years from now, have a beautiful 17 year old daughter just like her.
My daughter's friend hasn't been feeling well for a few days now. While at our house the other evening she looked very pale and was definitely running a fever. Later that night, she was so sick her parents had to bring her to emergency. I was sure she would be admitted to the hospital. Pfft...who was I kidding! Last night she showed up at our house. With an IV in her hand. YES you heard right...AN IV ....All taped in place with hospital tape. At first I thought she must be joking...but oh no...IT WAS NO JOKE! Apparently, her tonsils had swollen to the point she could not breath. Yet, when she went to emergency, they popped in an IV, gave her some drugs for a couple of hours, and as soon as she could breath freely, they sent her home. Her IV is to keep antibiotics going for a few days. She has to make a couple of trips to emergency daily to have the drugs pumped into the IV, and she is responsible at home to keep her IV clear (with some sort of solution they gave her).... She has to pump this solution into the IV herself. Can you believe that!!! *shakes head* I know health care has really gone downhill........ but seriously, THAT takes the cake. What the heck is next? If she needs her tonsils removed are they gonna give her an instruction booklet and a butterknife.. CHRIST!!!
The other day, while Drew and I were shopping, we happened to pass by an exercise department. We stopped and had a look through the exercise equipment...and there it was....an elliptical trainer.
I have always wanted one.
It was beautiful. It was exactly what I wanted. And...It was 50% off!!
But even at 50% off it was a little more than my pocketbook could handle. So instead, we looked at it for awhile. I dreamed a little. Then we came home.
That night after dinner, Drew went off to the firehall, and I cleaned up the dishes. About an hour later Drew returned.
He came into the house. I was sitting on the couch. He had a piece of paper and a booklet in his hand.
"I found this on the ground outside" he said. "It has your name on it"
"Mine? What is it"
"I dunno...Come get it", he said.
I walked over, took the booklet and paper from him.
It was the receipt and booklet for the elliptical trainer we had been looking at.
"Surprise," he said.
He had bought it for me.
I didn't know what to say.
As we loaded it out of the truck and into the exercise room, I asked him how he could afford to buy it.
"I took the money I was saving to rebuild my motorcycle. You are more important." he said
" But you spent months saving that money"
"I know...but the smile on your face when you looked at that receipt meant more to me than any bike rebuild"
I was floored.
As I looked at the elliptical trainer I couldn't help but wonder what meant more to me. The fact that he went out of his way to surprise me, or the fact that he delayed a dream of his to help fulfill one of mine.
I have posted this before...but it suits the kind of day I've had..and after reading some posts from my 'hood, it probably suits their's as well...sooooo enjoy!
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don’t know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the Number and dialed it. A man answered, saying, "Hello". I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin. Could I please speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude. I tracked down Robin’s correct number and called her. I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You’re an a**hole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word ‘a**hole’ next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, "You’re an a**hole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic ‘a**hole’ calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I’m just calling to see if you’re familiar with the Caller ID program?" He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That’s because you’re an a**hole!"
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window - so, I wrote down his number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first a**hole, (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the BMW a**hole,too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?" "Yes, it is." "Can you tell me where I can see it?" "Yes. I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It’s a yellow house, and the car’s parked right out in front." "What’s your name?" I asked. "My name is Don Hansen," he said. "When’s a good time to catch you, Don?" "I’m home every evening after five." "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?" "Yes?" "Don, you’re an a**hole." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two a**holes to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to be. So, I came up with an idea. I called A**hole #1. "Hello." "You’re an a**hole!" (But I didn’t hang up). "Are you still there?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. "Stop calling me," he screamed. "Make me," I said. "Who are you?" he asked. "My name is Don Hansen." "Yeah? Where do you live?" "A**hole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my black Beemer parked in front." He said, "I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers." I said, "Yeah, like I’m really scared, a**hole."
Then I called A**hole #2. "Hello?" he said. "Hello, a**hole," I said. He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are?" "You’ll what?" I said. "I’ll kick your ass," he exclaimed. I answered, "Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now." Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on West 34th Street.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th Street. There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and news crew.
NOW I FEEL MUCH BETTER!
Show us your favorite flower.
Grabbed this from IrishLuckyLass.
Describe Me in one word... just one word.
Heres how to Play :
1. Put my one word in the comments section of this post. Just one word that you think best describes me.
2. Then copy and paste it into your blog to have others do the same about you.
Last night I read THIS post from a fellow voxer...and it's impact not only affected my sleep last night, but has also remained on my mind all day.
The thought of this family's children, who were denied the right to be by the side of their dying mother, breaks my heart into a million pieces. And knowing that a woman's partner (for 18 years) was kept from spending what would be the final few hours with her partner, rages me beyond words. The cruel actions of hospital staff left a dying and probably frightened woman to die alone in a hospital bed. There is NOTHING that can justify that!!! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!
A person's sexual preference or choice does not matter. We are each individuals placed on this planet for the time we are given. Each of us hurt, laugh, dream, and have hopes for the future. We are all human beings.
And each of us has a desire to love and be loved.
Disagree with a person's sexual choice if you must, but keep in mind that people are human beings regardless of their sexual orientation. How we treat each other goes a long way in demonstrating our own humanity, or lack of it.
The right to love is a human right.. not a heterosexual one.
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