I just finished Songs of the Humpback Whale Harvesting the Heart by Jodi Picoult. My God, I haven’t read a book that has moved me like Harvesting the Heart for quite some time. I loved it. I felt I knew those people. Jodi Picoult has a gift. Of course both the books were filled with sadness, the only kind I love. I really like the voice of Jodi’s characters. I love the stories she spins. Her words are wonderful. How does she do it? How can you make up sooo many details? How does that work? Where do the voices come from? I sooo wish I had that talent. I ordered more of her work off of Amazon today. I’m out of books now and am starting to re read some of my old favs like Poisonwood Bible and .something else that lies face down in the bathroom…I forget the name, but not the story. Damn!! I need to get my book reviews done at Book Fetish…but I am having trouble (ps…dear Sheila…could you walk me through posting again?) with MT. I hate that I finished my book. I’ve always hated finishing a book. I can prolong a reading for weeks if I like it. That last page can take days. Now, I have no new books to read. Sigh I hope I get a magazine in the mail tomorrow.
You don't think Nacho Cheese Doritos, jelly beans (only black and orange...how Cambridge Trojanistic can I get?), Runza fries, diet Mt. Dew, leftover Chinese food and 1 bottle of BAWLS will make me dream do you? Nahhhhhh
I dreamed I was in a Kill Bill movie last night. Therefore, I took a bath and washed my hair this morning. Reason being that to put my head underneath the head wash sink would have left me vulnerable to attack from behind. Why do I have to dream so much? Even as a child I would wake up terrified many many nights a week. I think it’s because I read so much, and watch shows like ½ ton man and Born with Two Heads and I always have. That dream has me freaked out! I remember the feeling of being one of the hunted and anticipating pain and death. Yuck Well, on that note, good morning sunshine! I’ve got to get ready for work now as freight is arriving soon. Today, volleyball in Cozad. I love that because I can sleep all the way there. Sad isn’t it…sleeping has become my social life. Except when I dream I’m in a Kill Bill movie…than it becomes my antisocial life. Grin
I watched Half a Ton Man Last night. I was too tired really but I did it anyway.After that was done at 1 a.m. was Born With 2 Heads. I wanted very much to watch that but it was too late. I can only hope it will be on again.
So the other night about 3 a.m. I woke up with a start, turned and saw Mark staring at me. I said, as you can well imagine, What the hellareyou looking at? He said, I think you have sleep apnea. I said, So WHAT! I was asleep! Don’t stare at me!! I suppose I was rude. Maybe he was worried about me…or maybe he was waiting for me to asphyxiate. It’s a wonder I didn’t find a mirror under my nose. God I HATE being stared at. ESPECIALLY AT NIGHT! In other news, I made turtle cookies today on the waffle iron and the are good I made hot fresh salsa and it was FREAKIN’ HOT! I am craving hot spices like crazy and I don’t know why.It’s starting to piss me off. I decorated the shop yesterday and it looks cozy and I love that place. My house on the other hand looked as if a small bomb went off inside it. I did get the downstairs cleaned fairly well but it could stand a good hosing down. Nuff said, I’ve wasted enough time on this bloop. Later
Just watched a show about Jean Michel Basquiat, an artist well known in the 80s for his graffiti painting.. Of course, as many artists, eventually he kills his tortured soul with a drug overdose. I look at some of his paintings and wonder I wonderI wonder why the hell someone would get paid for this! I also wonder why the hell cant I get paid for doing that. I mean, who CANT do that? Still the paintings do capture something. Your attention I guess, or the lifting of a dogs hind leg whichever comes first.
I feel as if I am watching a car race and waiting for the crash. or waiting for a hospice patient to die. Somehow it doesn't seem right to have such a morbid fascination about the present storms but I can't quit watching the news. I have to watch the weather. I have to see how the storm is progressing. I have to know. Hurricanes need warm tropical oceans, moisture and light winds above them. If the right conditions last long enough, a hurricane can produce violent winds, incredible waves, torrential rains and floods. Okay, then why don't we, as soon as the tropical storm is spotted, cool the ocean right close to the source? Could there be a way to do this? Maybe we could drop something into the eye of the hurricane to make it blow itself up...like say...dry ice or Shelley or something such as this? Why can�t we alter the conditions that make it favorable for a hurricane to form? Why? Why? Why? We talk about all the things to do before a hurricane and after the hurricane but why not do something BEFORE IT BECOMES A HURRICANE?! Okay now, I�ll stop with the wondering.
Volleyball games tonight. oh boy I can hardly wait. Hopefully darlin' daughter will be jv so she can at least play. It's another triangular so will be all night with it. Andrew doesn't have a game until next week. I wish I had something interesting to say. I always love to go read Joy Unexpected where everything she writes is funny or at least interesting.
This morning I decided to listen to NPR at the shop. Of course, news is the forte in the a.m. along with intermittent music. I was really busy from the time I unlocked the door and never did get any cd's put on. I usually put on swing, jazz or big band since my regular early morning customers enjoy this type of music the best. I was glad I wasn't able to turn it off though because the station is good. AND I needed to listen to a news station besides CNN once in awhile. Anyway, I did hear a weird news story and I could hardly take it. It was all about cocks...and a man who was being interviewed was talking about how after his cock got a shot it was swollen up and he just stroked and stroked his cock. I KNOW my eyes were about the size of the Wide Load Latte I was making at the time. I thought about whistling, dropping a cup, kicking the cupboards...anything to drown out the voice of this cock stroking man filling the air space at NPR. As I loudly walked up to the last customer and rang her up, sent her on her way, I noticed that nobody else seemed embarrassed or distressed. I listened to the rest of the interview and giggled when I discovered it was about "cockfighting" and Asian bird flu vaccine. Of course, how could it have been anything but that?!
Well it�s that time of year again. Yup, school pictures. You know, sexy beast time�as Alec refers to it. Damned if his pictures aren�t the best he�s ever taken though. Andrew�s pictures are good as well but he has a �spot� on his chin. As I peered at it Andrew explained. I tried to tear that mole off right before the picture was taken. I hate it. My mouth dropped. Good Lord. I thought of the opportunity to use this as �life lesson� time. You know, to explain about self and heritage and and and �I just didin�t want to. I said, Maybe we could get an appointment and have it taken off�professionally? He said Okay. I said, Right then. That was that. I had a loverly mole once�on the tip of my nose. Yah, like a witch. I always called mine a �birth mark� to make me feel less freak like. When I was about 30 a neighbor who was about 9 was over playing with our kids and suddenly she peered up at my face and stated, matter of factly, You have a mole on your nose like a witch! I made the appointment that very afternoon and by the end of the week I was mole less. I wonder if any of my ancient relatives had a similar �birth mark�. Anyway, I�m rambling and since I left my make up at the shop I better get going. I gotta �spot� on my chin today�no it�s not a mole�
Promises of a chicken flu pandemic, hurricane after battering hurricane, missing children, water fouled beyond belief, no pledge of allegiance in school, soaring oil prices...what the hell. I suppose the uber religious will say, "The end is coming!", "The end is coming!" and things like "Hooray!" and perhaps, "I told you so" while skipping gleefully along the church sidewalk peering into the frilly white clouds picking out their new home. I for one will not be saying "Hooray!" if the world is ending. I want to live for a while yet thank you very much. Well, the only good bit of news I have found, and I HAVE been searching, is...are you ready? There is hope for Shelley. Yes, there is a make up product just for her. In fact there are several to choose from. So here they are Shelley...knock yourself out girl!
You can pick out a newsilver glittery eye liner called...Trailer Trash from Hard Candy or maybe you want turquoise blueeye mascara called...Spazz.
I knew you would be jumping for joy on that couch on the porch! Get purty now!
I read part of the Omaha World Herald this afternoon and spotted an article about The Ranch Bowl. I also noticed a poster depicting The Jacks which was a band that Mark's brother in law Dan played in. In fact I met Mark because a bunch of us nursing students decided to go listen to the band play...not at the Ranch Bowl though, at Arthurs. Anyway, it was weird to open up the paper and see this picture. It brought back a bunch of college memories. wow I maybe shouldn't read the paper so much. gulp Memories....sigh
How long before America is known at the trailer trash of the world? I worry. So many people are selfish, and stupid and confuse rudeness with independence. The vast majority of the media present beauty queens who mime intelligence as they are fed their lines through microphones and cue cards. Do they remember what they speak of? Do they believe in the words that spew from their heavily painted lips?. We, the viewers, unless we strive to find the truth, are fed on these lines. We hunger to know about the world and what is going on and we are fed daily doses of shit. How long before that pollutes our minds? How long before that pollutes our children�s minds? I saw where the United States science and math scores are significantly lower than 25 other countries. What the hell is happening in school? While precious time is being drained away over and over and over again on something like keeping the pledge of allegience in our schools(which it should be) and letting our children gain in self esteem by not allowing any type of discipline in school whatsoever, and stressing so many other programs that your head could spin off�we are losing skills Maybe kids should just duke it out once in a while. Maybe there should be running at recess and letting off steam. Maybe there should be the pledge of allegiance and the singing of the school song every day. Maybe there needs to be a basic rigid schedule and less free time. We are losing our SKILLS and WE, the Americans, are going to pay.
I sound like a paranoid schizophrenic I met while in nursing school on my psych rotation. That is a whole other story that does deserve to be told but maybe not tonight
Anyway, after watching CNN this evening I felt this lump in my throat and I felt that as Americans we should be paying attention to the lack of patriotism, the lack of respect, the lack of common decency many of us are exhibiting. We are in a precarious position, at war with other countries and at war with one another. We fight so hard to get the last word in we don�t even know what we are saying let alone doing. We just want to be the winner.
Okay okay, I know this isn�t like my usual panties in a vacuum, beer in the fridge kind of post. But it�s just what came out tonight. It might be a kind of virus thing. I hope not.
I catnapped last night and planned menus in my sleep. It�s time. Fall will be here soon and to us that means soup weather. We love us some homemade soup at Shirley K�s and I need to change my summer menu over to the fall one. Howsoever that may be, I did not get the menus changed today. I had phone calls from salesmen and salespeople in person to visit with and ads to make and to deliver and a lot of other fun and games to be completed before the golden hour of 1pm. Around that time we are going to go to Benkelman to watch Andrew play football. It only takes about 2 hours to get there! Oh boy oh boy oh boy. I am excited to watch him play it�s just that it�s so damn far away. We even change time zones people! This is a byproduct of consolidating schools. Travel is necessary in order to play.. We are going a bit early to stop in at a diner/ice/potential coffee shop place called Strikers that is there. I tried to convince the owners to purchase an Island Oasis machine and I had the gal come in and work with me a day to orient her to coffee shop schtuff. I talked to Cindy Sue today and I STILL LAUGHED SO HARD I GOT BLURRY when I thought of her pulling a get well bouquet from her shorts! Wow Wow Wow Now THAT is something to behold!
Sheryl stops in to visit with post surgical knee scope patient Cindy Sue and almost passes out because she LAUGHS SO HARD!!
It all started with a grassy knoll shaded by sweet pine trees and an auction. What could be more pleasant than that? Especially if you are still quite sedated from anesthesia and your right leg is wrapped from nipple to toe mummy style. You just had surgery but you are lounging in the roomy backseat of a big ass pick em up truck and you are feeling fine. Suddenly, you realize , in your drug induced state that you need to wiz. Oh boy. Luckily you feel no pain as you leap like a drunk troll out of the truck and squat like a giraffe. You hope no one can see you but you really don't give a crap. As you attempt to mount the running board you feel a scratchy sensation on your buttocks. Reaching back you pull a weed bouquet from between your ass cheeks. WTF?
I am totally loving this group. AND you tell me...who do they remind you of? Okay I was kidding I can't wait AROUND for you to get off your lazy fingers and tell me anything...let me tell you who they remind me of... X and The Replacements put together!
The Hold Steady...How a Resurrection Really Feels
I really like their song called
...Your Little Hoodrat Friend even though according to: From Rap To Rehab...a hoodrat is...a Female, generally sexually promiscuous, and not upwardly mobile "Homies in the hood labeled her as a hoodrat" -- Domino (Ghetto jam ). (D) A wheelchair user whom didn't make it across the busy street.
I can't help myself...I still like it.
On a side note I found a drink named for my mother. Good Grief...it's so hard to raise parent these days!
Karen's Melons ----------------------------------
Liqueur, melon (Midori) 1 1/2 oz. Vodka (Styka) 1 oz. 7-up Fill with Lime 1 wedge
Glass to use: Highball glass ---------------------------------- Mixing instructions:
Build over ice in a highball glass. Fill with 7-up or Sprite. Try to toss the lime wedge from behind your back and into the drink.
Cindy had knee surgery yesterday. She had a scope. Her check in time was 9:15. She called me at around noon and sounded complexly herself. Anesthesia must agree with her. All was well and she was munching a hamburger and en route to home. Yayyyy! Now I have to get her ass rehabbed and back to slinging coffee and riding a bike. Funny, I haven�t even been craving to ride since the last debacle I participated in. Maybe I�m done with that biz. Maybe I�ll take up something new now like mountain climbing or something easy like that. Hee hee hee Well, as per usual I�m late and the freight is on it�s way. Adios Pot Roast. Bye Bye Cow Pie.
Ps I�m posting this via Microsoft Word. It�s GREAT! You should definitely download it at blogger and give it a whirl.
Isn�t this cool? I�ve been trying to photograph this web for weeks. Yesterday I got it in the perfect light. The spider has conveniently spun this on my clothes line. She knows that I won�t hang my laundry up not because I�m some sort of spider freak but because I�m some sort of lazy assed freak. Unfortunately for her the clothes line is in a direct course to my tomato and hot pepper garden. Being forgetful, I walked through it this morning. Ohh well�at least I got my picture first!
Instead of Church Yes, once again, I am a sinner, a heathen a non church goer. My only excuse? I blame my children entirely. Is that fair? No�but so what. This morning started off with me driving Katie to Arapahoe to meet up with a group traveling to Aurora for an FCCLA meeting. She will be back sometime tomorrow. Alec was awake when I returned. He was already on the computer and crabby. He refused all breakfast except cinnamon toast which I made and served to his highness. I did very little the rest of the morning and it wasn�t long after I grilled hamburgers and brats for lunch that I laid down for a nap. The phone rang one million times but I didn�t get up. I slept lightly but I dreamed a friends house was on fire and it seemed so real. I could feel the heat and taste the ashes in my mouth. I finally woke up and felt like shit. I then grogged around and generally was a lazy good for nothing lump of crap. Andrew got a phone call from someone from area code 404. It was a girl. He later told me it was �Carly� and he was silent and very much against telling me anything else. Area code 404 is Atlanta Georgia. Good God! Not already. Please�not a kid with a �friend�. At least though, Atlanta is plenty far enough away. Phewww Alec �cleaned� his room and set up his chest on wheels with typewriter and chair behind it. The whole scene resembles a Presidents desk. He made a name tag with Alec P McCurdy on it. He has a photo of his �ball with a hat on it�s head�, his school class picture, and his typewriter on it. He typed me a letter, folded it neatly and when I went in to tuck him in, late of course, it read, Mom, you are fired. I laughed and said, Thank God! I thought this job would never end! But before I could walk out the door he quickly rehired me. I requested a raise, and he added to the contract, a hug a day.
It went like this> After washing my hair I decided to check my e-mail. While doing so I heard a pitter patter and odd noises which I attributed to my fat cat Pickles. She has been playing with a stretch of masking tape for a few days...gets stuck on her paw, she runs like crazy, you get the picture. Finally, I thought, Hey...there is someone outside on my porch! And I bet it's Andrew (who was staying all night at a friends house and they are always prowling) and BOY is he in trouble! I got up and waddled to the front door and sure enough 3 boyish looking bicyclists sped away. I fumed. I got ready for work and decided to take the long way there. When I was almost to the bike trail sure enough I saw 3 little nose mining bikers. I rolled my window down and hollered at the closest who I thought in the dim morning light, might be Andrew. Yes, I hollered, HEY what do you think you were doing on my porch? The kid turned, looked at me and said, We were just riding around. We've been up since 3 in the morning! He looked proud. This kid was not mine. It was however my cousins boy and he was with 3 other knotheads AND they are in Alec's class AND I have to assume they were throwing rocks at his bedroom window trying to get him to come downstairs. Anyway, to make a long story short. Andrew did NOT get in trouble...yet. Neither did Alec...yet. Other news: Katie is in a VB Tourney right now. Mark calls me here at work every once in awhile to report, they lost, they won, she's doing well, last game starting in 10 minutes. Andrew and his buddies came in the shop, Andrew sporting a nice new mustache (made of chocolate) and over his shoulder the video camera. He reported that they were going to be making a movie. He is actually going to go into Duckwalls otherwise known as Duckballs wearing that mustache and buy blank video tapes. I'm done working so I'm OFF...to take a nap. whoo whee I'm a fun kind of girl. yowza
Another day another donut. Isn't that what life is all about. Highlight: waking up on time even though I was awake until 3am Lowlight: remembering it was Friday and there are still 2 days left in my work week Highlight: finding clothes that fit around my burgeoning ass without the help of a shoehorn and a jug of crisco Lowlight: the pants had an elastic waist and were still uncomfortably snug, the shirt accentuated my bra fat Highlight: no new zits Lowlight: no missing zits Well, that seems to be enough to burden you with for now. Enjoy your weekend and if you get to sleep in tomorrow...I HATE YOU!
I wrote this entry in blocks of sentences throughout the day so it is very disjointed. I started at 5:30 am and finished it...just now...11:29 pm. I decided to post it anyway because I'm too tired to edit it or post anything else.
Did I tell you that Alec went to the thrift shop on the night of Old fashioned Saturday Night? Yup...he went to the "fill a bag, any bag with anything at all for $1.00 sale" He came back with a suit coat on that he swears in his elementary principals...and believe me...Alec spent enough time in the office to know...and a suitcase patched together with orange tape and packed full of clothes and if that wasn't enough he came back with a typewriter in it's own case. It works. He sat there in his suit coat typing a story that night and I swear he looked like a sports writer...hee hee hee.
Still, I am watching the horror of New Orleans. A place I always wanted to go to and never did. The fighting, the blaming, the gruesome pictures, the hypocrites in the press who say in one breath they will not be showing the pictures of the bloating corpses and then the hopeful scanning of the video looking, looking, looking for the bodies. You can almost hear the announcement, OH NO...our cameraman accidentally spotted what we thought was a tree but in truth...camera looms in on the body...it is...music welling...tears on cue...someone's grandma...and then the story is told...Utterly spontaneous I'm sure.
You can tell the weather forecasters are weary and almost fearful, tearful of telling us the great news of another storm system aka hurricane schlepping it's way in toward the south.
Last night I slept like I was dead. For the most part I don't. I'm going through some sort of phase. Sleeping as soon as I get home from the shop maybe 1 hour or so. Feeling groggy for most of the day and evening anyway. Insomnia at night. I've always loved to sleep in the daytime. Wake up to the sound of the cars on the highway, the birds, the sounds of the TV mumbling, the sound of the wakeful world around me. I liked working nights at the hospital, coming home, greeting my sleepy kids, reading the paper, eating a big breakfast then sleeping like a rock until I woke. But I am starting to hate feeling like I am still working nights when I don't. I still get up around 5 or 5:15 am, stumble around, get to work eventually and then face a whole day of trying to feel awake. I would like to go on vacation to Colorado for a few days. That always seems to refresh me. Wake me up. Make me better. Maybe someday.
I think I have an ear infection. Yep...it's been decided by moi Dr. Bitchwad extraordinaire'. I am now gnawing on leftover Ceftin tablets and plan to be fully recovered by 5:30 am.
We just got back from Katie's VB game. They won. She looked good. I was proud. The boys, in the meantime, had the house all to themselves (well, grandma looked in once in awhile) . I can't wait to find out what they have been doing. Then again, maybe I can.
Yesterday ">Alec and several of his good buds got together and had a lemonade stand. Nothing strange about that I guess. Kids raising money to spend on gum, stickers, candy, pop and other crass items such as whoopie cushions and stuff that looks like snot and comes in a can. This time was different though. Those kids raised 101 dollars and could not wait to donate every cent of it to victims of hurricane Katrina. Kind of makes a Mom proud now and she has to gloat about it.
I've added a donate button on my sidebar for hurricane Katrina victims. Please use it. We will be having an event at Mark's Pharmacy and Shirley K's to raise money as well. Something along the lines of live music and Mark burgers. It's in mid throes at this time. Expect to hear more soon. I've cried so many times this week. Moved to tears by the images I've seen. I can only imagine how it must be. Being a nurse I often think of the health care workers striving to care for the wounded in the now bare bones hospitals and am overwhelmed with emotion. Like so many others I have been glued to CNN (yes I know I said I converted to google current but maybe I haven't) watching over and over the frustration, the horror, the walking wounded as they were captured from every angle. Someone, I think Soledad O'Brien said, that the people's eyes were like wounded animals. I can see that. That makes sense. I hope someday the memory of this time will not haunt the young children who were trapped there with filth, flooding and horror of corpses floating by.
At terrorist conventions everywhere people are grinning. They are laughing and nudging one another. There are thumbs up and big dramatic winks across rooms crowded with tables piled high with the latest bomb kits, gleaming bottles of mutating germs, packets of powders with red biohazard labels and tiny hand grenades. The men are sipping Bedouin coffee, served without sweetening and flavored with cardamom. The faceless women bring round slices of Aysh abu laham with fried mutton, chopped kurrath or spring onion, and topped with a sauce made from tahinah. The mood is uplifting. All are happy. The Americans won't need to be attacked and killed...they are going to kill themselvs without much more effort. The hurricane has pushed the people of the south to their limits and another war between the states will ensue at any time. Bush, the military and Americans in general have become lackadaisy and indifferent to the needs of one another. Perhaps, some muse, they have become terrorists in their own way. Maybe there will be some new recruits! The sated group gathers together around an empty table and ponders sending money, food, water and busses to the devastated people. First we tear them down and then we build them up. They toast one another and beneath their turbaned heads one can see their mouths turn upward into a tiny smile.
...and it wasn't the E kind it was UPS kind and that is the funnest. I got a package from Hella Good..."We serve fresh bath products daily!". I only bought one thing but they sent me a ton of samples! whoo hooo! Here is a list of what I got because I KNOW you care about my smelling nice. People...I can't just smell like bread all the time! I mean that!
1 package of SEXY MO FO...a muslin bag filled with moisturizing mango butter, a real raspberry, creamy milk, soothing oatmeal and sweet sugar, and LOVE...(it really says that) dipped with lovely champagne glitter. (can you believe that? and if there IS champagne on that bag I may be sucking on it later...even though the instructions say to "gently rub bag over my body paying close attention to dry areas"...as if)
1 sample of Pillow Talk Peppermint Patty body wash...the instructions say that even though it smells hella good...I can't eat it...darn
1 sample of Red Currant soap that smells all woodsey and will probably make me all doe eyed and fawn over someone...from Two Rivers soap company
1 writing pen that says...Stinkbug Designs...you KNOW I love that 1...ummm ring...maybe finger, toe or...the naughty bits...not sure 1 sample of Soleil perfume oil 1 zipper Keychain and a 10% discount coupon for AmyPetersStudio.com 1 coupon for 10% discount at midnightfirefly.com...jewelry ...and a dozen more cards and shit
Sex after midnight should really be banned once you a) have 3 kids b) are over 30 or c) fake the glory Where did the sex queen go? Well, she probably lives on...in some bathroom stall somewhere along I-80. hahahahhah you think I'm serious? hee hee Anyway...I watched Mermaid Girl on Discovery Channel which was about a baby born with fused feet, legs and one kidney. I love to see this kind of shit...I know I know...I'm a sick kind of broad.
I am so tired I keep falling asleep while typing. bye