Thursday 13 #28--the weak one.

I know I've had some lame TT's lately. Life has been so busy with actual life-type things! Here are Thirteen life type things from my life.

1. Little O had her first school photo taken today. Let me explain that I am in AWE of the women in my Mother-in-law's neighborhood. Their little girls have these laser guided parts, and silky smooth ponytails. They look like they belong in catalogs. My daughter, on the other hand (and the REAL proof that she IS my daughter in spite of her loathing for mashed potatoes) looks like she just fell out of the the tilt-a-whirl. Or maybe that I tried to put her hair into ponytails while ON the tilt-a-whirl. I may have been overly stressed this morning.

2. The honey started laughing as I pulled the third set of horribly askew ponytails out of her head this morning. Then he told me about his sister's school picture where her ponytails were totally screwy. He said that's why everyone loves school pictures, and if I get her hair perfect, it almost guarantees that she'll do the funky/cheesy/picture smile. Aw, that was just what I needed to hear. Then we agreed that I had somehow given her Nemo-like proportions (one big and healthy, one decidedly scrawny and non-functional) and we needed a fifth and final go at ponytails.

3. Because one childhood milestone wasn't enough, last night we went to the official meeting for future seventh graders and their parents. Ack. My firstborn is going into Junior High. I REMEMBER junior high. How did this happen? When did he stop wearing Pokemon T-shirts? What am I going to do with my encyclopedic knowledge of Pokemon types?

4. I saw my son sucessfully interacting with GIRLS. I tried to stay out of range so I didn't embarrass him, because again, I REMEMBER junior high. I'm not saying he was putting the moves on them (Thank you lord tiny baby Jesus), but, well, refer to the end of number three.

5. Kimmy wasn't at work and I was so horribly depressed, and it took me two days to realize WHY I was so absolutely wretched. Not that life is always peachy, but I am not really a depressed type person on a day-to-day basis. I looked and acted like death warmed over, to the point that people thought that I was sick, but once I recognized what my problem was, I could get OVER it, you know? Not that I'm over Kimmy abandoning us, but I can set it aside to be a functioning adult.

6. CRSE finally got my present, which seemed to take FOREVER. I began this theory about her thieving postal workers, but then it arrived and I had to resume my normal anna nicole and marketing blog conspiracies.

7. Thursday Thirteen was saved! Wait, I said Life-type things, huh? Screw it, blogging is a life-type thing at this point. I get a lot of free therapy via this little blog.

8. OOOh! Speaking of therapy, my work will pay for three marital-type counseling sessions for me, and then the Honey can have three as someone who is in my life, and so we get SIX session for free! I was dreading the costs, so this is a big ole plus.

9. Okay, back to blogging for a minute... Have you visited Dorkbloggers yet? It's so much fun to play, and have a place to revel in the dorkstacy. The Dorkabilities?

10. My best Jen is having a luau party for her daughter's birthday this weekend, and I am headed South to help. She just sent me an awesome photo of a snowy tree outside of her house, and I have to say, she'd better be right about the high sixties all weekend. Her husband bought us both grass skirts and coconut bras, and I have to laugh. Jen could pull it off. I, unfortunately, would look like I had some regrettable pasties on, and would terrify the children. Maybe with a few gallons of spray-tan I could look like a radioactive (cause you know I'd be orange) samoan matriarch.... Nah, I think I'll be better off using them as ear-muffs if the snow photo is any hint...

11. My parents are officially gypsies. I think they prefer that term to "homeless." They are out of thier little idyllic river retreat, and their new rental won't be available to them until May. They leave Friday for a three week adventure in Brazil, being hosted by their little exchange student's family. Several of their friends have offered them space until the new house is ready, but I can't imagine how uncomfortable it will be for them. Then again, I am the one who has issues using other people's showers, so maybe it won't be so bad for them. They are nothing if not practical.

12. Taxes. Must.File.Taxes.

13. Played Laser tag at a nephew's birthday party on Sunday. Well, they played laser tag, I played walking human target. I was beaten by seven year olds. Good fun, but hot sweaty work, when wearing a warm cozy sweater. Then one of the moms tried to scam me out of the better coupon (it expired later). In the words of Chuck aka IAI: Die mom-bots! I'll bet the mom-bot's daughter always has perfectly parted hair.

Leave me some linky love!

Wednesday Hero

Jurgersen" src="http://img138.imageshack.us/img138/5911/sgtmajbrentjergersenbd3.jpg" border=1>Sgt. Maj. Brent "The Rock" Jurgersen
Headquarters Troop, 1st Squadron, 4th U.S. Cavalry, 1st Infantry Division

Active Duty

Not even two near-death encounters deterred Sgt. Maj. Brent Jurgerson's passion and eagerness to serve his country and lead his troops back home.

Jurgersen celebrated his second "alive day" anniversary January 26, 2007. It was a day of mixed emotions for him because on that same day two years ago he was given a second chance to live. It was a day that changed his life forever. While on patrol in Ad Dyuliah, Iraq, two rocket-propelled grenades struck his Humvee. The explosion killed his gunner and left Jurgersen fighting for his life, flat-lining twice on the operating table in Balad.

Afterwards, during a promotion ceremony in August of 2006, Jurgersen was selected for a command sergeant major appointment. Becoming the first full limb amputee student to attend the academy.

You can read the rest of Sgt. Maj. Jurgersen's story here.

These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived

This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. If you would like to participate in honoring the brave men and women who serve this great country, you can find out how by going here.

The Oscars were on Sunday. Nobody read the names.

Can I go off track for a minute? Medical technology has changed enormously since we were last in a war. Imagine what our casualties would be like if we DIDN'T have so much technological know-how. Now consider the state of Walter Reed, where virtually every severely injured soldier goes. I will vote for the presidential candidate that starts talking about how we're going to ensure that the men and women coming home from overseas get appropriate, exemplary (not adequate) medical care.

It's a volunteer force, folks, but once someone is injured because WE sent them somewhere, we have an obligation to make sure that they are cared for. People have wildly different experiences at VA hospitals. IF the VA is what these men and women are going to depend on, we need to start straightening it out and pumping money into the system NOW, so it is ready to handle this load.

Go read the new issue of Discover Magazine about the increase in Traumatic Brain Injuries that are saved. Then go read an article about the state of Walter Reed. Then drive by a guy in a faded green jacket holding up a piece of cardboard. We already have homeless veterans. How many of them could have benefited from good psychiatric help and a country that was ready for their return to the normal world? If someone makes it through their tour(s) without a scratch, there are other ways that these folks will need care. GAAHH! Okay, I'll get off my soapbox.

(sob) a luvvy poem to a best girlfriend

Kimmy is moving away.

Rather than giving her one single solitary more thing to pack, I am going to give her this poem/book/run-on sentence. It's called I like you. It was written by Sandol Stoddard Warburg in 1965. I wasn't born yet. But I sold lots of copies of this book once I read it, so I figure Sandol won't mind if I re-post it online.

I like you
And I know why

I like you because
You are a good person
To like

I like you because

When I tell you something special
You know it's special
And you remember it
A long long time

You say
Remember when you told me
Something special

And both of us remember


When I think something is important
You think it's important too

We have good ideas

When I say something funny

You laugh

I think I'm funny
You think I'm funny too
hah-hah

...

And I like you because
When I am feeling sad
You don't always cheer me up right away

Sometimes it is better to be sad
You can't stand the others being so googly and gaggly every single minute
You want to think about things

It takes time

I like you because if I am mad at you
Then you are mad at me too

It's awful when the other person isn't

Phooey

They are so nice and hoo-hoo you could just about punch them in the nose

I like you because if I think I am going to throw up then you are really sorry
You don't just pretend you are busy looking at the birdies and all that

You say maybe it was something you ate

You say the same thing happened to me one time

And the same thing did

If you find two four-leaf clovers
You give me one

If I find four
I give you two

If we only find three
We keep on looking

Sometimes we have good luck
And sometimes we don't

...

I like you because
I don't know why but
Everything that happens
Is nicer with you

I can't remember when I didn't like you

It must have been lonesome then

I like you because because
I forget why I like you
But I do

So many reasons

On the Fourth of July I like you because
It's the Fourth of July

On the Fifth of July
I like you too

If you and I had some drums
And some horns and some horses
If we had some hats and some
Flags and some fire-engines

We could be a HOLIDAY
We could be a CELEBRATION
We could be a WHOLE PARADE
See what I mean?

Even if it was the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth of July
Even if it was August
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November
Even if it was no place particular in January

I would go on choosing you
And you would go on choosing me
Over and over again

That's how it would happen every time
I don't know why

I guess I don't know why I like you really

Why do I like you

I guess I just like you

I guess I just like you

Because I like you

Sweet Jeebus that was a whole lot longer than I thought it would be. That's how much I love you, Kimmy. I feel this way about most people who make it into the inner Circle of Jen, but Kimmy is the one who told me I ought to blog, and who adores my son as much as me, and shit, she's KIMMY, the coolest, most generous, sweetest person on the planet. She's also witty and sarcastic as fuck, and is not at all traumatized when the word fuck falls outta my mouth.

I FUCKIN' love you, Kim.

And uh, Ahem. If Sandol Stoddard Warburg or someone representing S.S. Warburg is upset about my republishing most of their tiny gift book (ISBN 0-395-01716-3), please let me know and I'll remove it.

Photos of our drunken sob-fest to be posted once I locate my damned USB cable.

I've been robbed again.

Go read, here!

Hip Suburban White Guy

Is this blog for real?

I think this is a marketing blog.

It was nominated for a perfect post in January, for the third (or so) post on the blog, a debate about whether or not our fifteen year old heroine should take the new HPV vaccine.  I think it's all a shill for this vaccine.

 

The premise is that she was orphaned in the 9/11 attacks, losing both her mother and her older brother.  Father fell out of their life years ago.  The trauma of 9/11 subsequently killed her grandmother, and now she and her two younger sisters are cared for, reluctantly, by their aunt.  Her shrink suggested that she blog open letters to her 9/11 mother.

• She has a poignant story about asking the reporters for the Chelsea Clinton-hands off policy.  Except that she was NINE.  What nine year old has any CLUE about the press' treatment of the first daughter that was initiated the year they were BORN?
• In addition, this kid has perfect grammar and spelling.  She has an excellent command of the language, never lapses into text-ese or other common mistakes.  Is it just the edumacation system in California that sucks so badly?  Because I know THIRTY-year-olds that make more errors on their blogs than this child.  
• After a SECOND mention of the HPV vaccine, she started a courtship with the most popular boy in her peer group, who has now announced that he wants to see her exclusively--but there's a catch.  She has to put out, because he has needs, you see. 

I'm telling you, this is all a marketing ploy for the HPV vaccine, and I find it sooo offensive that they would cash in on the 9/11 tragedy to shill their stuff.

 

As the mother of teenage girls, what do you think? Could your teen write this clearly?  I'm doing eleven-year-old homework help, so maybe I am out of touch. 

 Is the guy who nominated it for a perfect post in marketing, himself?

 

http://samsrainbowsandunicorns.blogspot.com

 

 

 

 

 

which one is this? egad, is it the last?

TT will be no more? but.. but.. I made so many friends this way! I found so many neat people and blogs! Jeez, this isn't even my best effort! I'll just have to continue doing them and letting them wander the blogosphere, sad and lonely...

13 favorite smells.

1. Onions being sauteed in butter--the beginnings of Corn Chowder when I was a kid.

2. True Romance from Bath and Body Works. It was an old Aromatherapy product. It was herbal AND floral, but not too much of either one. I loved it, which of course means that it was discontinued.

3. The coffee aisle in any grocery store. It hits you like a wall as you round the aisle, and you just linger for a minute, even if you have coffee coming out the wazoo at home.

4. Right after a spring shower has passed, the night is so crisp and clear and there is a world of possibilities in front of you. The whole world is washed.

5. The package of Red Vines has just been opened. They are sooooo fresh and plump and filled with nothing good for you. I'll trade you some red vines for some of your popcorn....

6. I was trying to save it for last but I can't. There is no sweeter scent in the world than fresh baby, smelling like baby shampoo, and wrapped in a warm, slightly damp towel, asleep on your chest. God I want another one. Slap ME!!!!! (Okay, seriously? If I could afford it? I'd be a baby factory.)

7. Another B&BW scent, Fresh Ginger Lime. Not on me, so much, but good lord, on my Honey? Meeeow! I bought it for me, smelled like bleah in the bottle but warmed up on the skin so beautifully. The honey used it once and I could have eaten him with a spoon. So you know what THAT means. Yep. Discontinued. I stopped using it so there would be more shower gel for HIM. It's gone now (sob!)

8. The cold wet slap of the briny Ocean air. I live in Northern California. I'd like to go to a warm beach some day.

9. Pumpkin pies in the oven.

10. Warm fresh bread--brown bread, french bread, beer bread, it doesn't matter.

11. Spring time at the ball park. The grass isn't actually BEING mowed, but it has been in the last day or so.

12. My honey votes for the Country after the rain--Not the shiny streets that I adore, but the rich loamy smell of the orchards , with the leaves still dripping the occasional drop. Think sunshine on this one, as opposed to my night scene.

13. Little O chooses Daffodils, but I'm note sure they actually have a scent--we just have some blooming in the backyard and she's just learned the name--totally entranced with them. We'll have to try and make it toDaffodil Hill, in the foothills, this year.

Leave me your links in comments, because mr linky no longer has love for me, and TT is, apparently, done.

Refreshing for your very soul.

Tonight we turned off the idiot box and Little O and I danced. My kid knows the words to "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by the Clash. There are days when life could not be any sweeter.
A little Beastie Boys to jump around to.
Watching shake her derriere to "Banana Puddin'" by Southern Culture on the Skids was hilarious and depressing. She's luckily going to be a better dancer than her mother. Probably sooner than I'm ready for.
Ah, a nice round of Alvin and the Chipmunks "Witch Doctor" to finish it off... ooh, ee, ooh, ah-ah, ting, tang, Walla-walla bing-bang.

I have to find her all of that great Joan Jett girl band stuff, and some Go-Go's... A trip to itunes is in order... Worth every penny if she gets a little grrl to go with all of that freaking barbie.

Sunday quizfest

You Are Marge Simpson

You're a devoted family member who loves unconditionally. Sometimes, though, you dream about living a wild secret life! You will be remembered for: your good cooking and evading the police Your life philosophy: "You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head."

The Simpsons Personality Test

WHO ARE YOU SCREWING AT HOGWARTS??
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored Victor Krum. If you went to Hogwarts you would be doing Victor Krum. At least until he goes back to Bulgaria. He is strong, silent, and stupid...just they way you like it. Hey, you don't need brains to do what comes naturally! That thick slavic acent and that stern demenor, not to mention the fact that he goes to an all male school, lots of sexual frustration to be worked out on you. He had you on your back the second he marched into the Great Hall. Go ahead girl, go ahead get down...

Victor Krum 75% Draco Malfoy 65% Cedric Diggory 60% Ron Weasley 60% Fred and George Weasley 55% Harry Potter 50% Percy Weasley 25% No one, your a prude 10% WHO ARE YOU SCREWING AT HOGWARTS?? created with QuizFarm.com

Hmm, I don't know about the stupid part. But the picture sure is pretty--I can live with this answer. Interesting that the weasley twins come as a set--eew, that was not intentional.

My fantasy blog Party? It would go like this...

A cocktail a day, keeps you drunk all week
Originally uploaded by Ania_*.

IAI, meet Greg, from Death's Door. You two are my favorite outrageous reads. You both have government type backgrounds and call it like you see it--none of that politically correct crap. Fucking hilarious.


CRSE? This is Pippa--live and in person--and watch out! Mert just fell off the side of the couch...hmm, we should probably get her a new drink...Should there be a padded Dorkbloggers zone? Whaddya think Jenny?

Kimmy, Sayre, Bananas, and Nikki-this is Bre (Okay, two of you know her, but this is MY fantasy party) she doesn't blog, but she ought to.

Supa Jen 2? You've got a blog with one post so you can comment, but I think you'd like Super Librarian. I've just found her but she is soooooo Jen.

CRSE? Could you and The Mind make some more slush? More Vodka this time! Kristen, Lindsay, and Ash, This is my fantasy blog party, so feel free to have a cuppa--because who needs a drink more than the preggy lady wishing she could see her cankles? Only the mother of a newborn...

Look! I think Sara is beating JimSmash at the video game.

And presiding over it all is the first blog I ever stalked...The Slack, now a patron saint of Dorkblogging.

Okay, drama update.

I'm always glad that I can look Big O in the eye and tell him honestly that I did everything I could to try and make it work with his father. The Honey is taking a hard look at his behavior, and has agreed to counseling, so we'll ride this pony a little while longer. I have hope, but I want to see some follow through. If this does go south, I want to be able to look Little O in the eye, as well.
Follow through. That's what I'm looking for.

Hail to the Chief!

 

In a news conference today, Dubya was asked about the fact that many of our allies have financial relationships with Iran, and how would that play into decisions....

 

"Money Trumps Peace sometimes..."

 

Could I have that embroidered on a sampler?

 

 

Wednesday Heroes

Ellicia Stanley & her husband SPC Reid StanleyI received and email from Wednesday Hero Blogroll member Mary Ann in which she suggested that I profile the spouse of a soldier. Seeing as I'd profiled one such spouse in the past, I though this was the perfect opportunity to do it again. I hadn't read the entire letter before I said yes, but after reading it I'm glad she sent it to me.I think military families, especially the spouses, while they sign no contract, serve our country just as much as the service member. They give up familiar home ties and relocate all over the country, all over the world. They give up their civilian lives for something bigger than themselves. Ellicia was a military wife for only two and a half years. Before they married, but after 9/11, Reid came to her and told her of his desire to enlist. He wanted to do his part. He tells part of the story in his blog posthttp://kafstorm.blogspot.com/2005/07/why-i-joined-army.htmlShe encouraged him, pushing him so he could meet his goal of serving his country. He did and took his oath in October 2002. By the time they were married in July 2004, Reid was already stationed in Germany. It was 3 months before she could join him there. In a move that, for someone who'd seldom left her hometown in South Carolina, must have come as quite an adjustment. But she did it, as do so many other military wives.Then came deployment to Afghanistan in May 2005. They spent their first anniversary apart. Reid writes about that anniversary in this post http://kafstorm.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-hero.htmlIt was in the sixth month of deployment when Ellicia received the news — she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Devastating. However, in an email to me on the day she received her diagnosis, the phrase she used was, "not stellar news". Understated, calm, steady, no hysteria, it was another challenge to face.I came to admire her because, I too, had been away from home, (not to a foreign country), with a one small child (not three), and my husband traveling (not in a war zone). Knowing what my experience had been like, I was amazed at how she took it all in stride. Even when faced with a terminal diagnosis, she faced it all with grace, dignity and humor. All the while supporting her husband, the mission and the country.Reid was given compassionate leave back to Germany in November 2005. For the next thirteen months they fought their own personal war with cancer…breast, lung…and finally eleven tumors in her brain.In November 2006 the Stanley's took compassionate reassignment back to the U.S. to Ft. Eustis, Virginia.On 31 December 2006, Ellicia lost her battle. But her spirit lives on in her husband, her children, and the many people she inspired with her courage.These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived
This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. If you would like to participate in honoring the brave men and women who serve this great country, you can find out how by clicking here.

Love. That's what it's all about. Happy Valentine's Day.

Sing it to the tune of Duke of Earl, 'Kay?

Dooce, Dooce, Dooce,
Dooce of Love...

That's me!

I have managed to blog my way right out of my relationship with the honey. Oh, there were other things wrong, and this was just the crowning glory, but he essentially went through my sent emails until he found the email to TrueWifeConfessions from last July. He was looking for ideas for my Valentine's present, you see.

I may be a little bitchy on my blog, but I hold my tongue at home, in part because I live with a man from a mexican family, and while HE throws fits, I am not allowed to be angry. That is his job in our relationship. So when I found TWC, I thought it was the perfect time to get things off of my chest. I wrote a nasty little note about my less than perfect birthday proposal--the one where I sat sobbing and miserable through dinner, begging him to stay and eat fucking dinner with me--then he took me to the bar and proposed! I was pissed about something else, but I blogged about the proposal, because I still can't believe he wouldn't have decided at about the time the dishes were cleared and we were still sitting in miserable stony silence that maybe he should wait to pop the question. I'll be posting the full post later, (and it WAS awful) because that's one of the things he demanded--that I send the post to everyone I know so they could see how I had betrayed him. I will, never fear. I'll have it translated into spanish. I know a lot of mexicans anymore.

He's threatened to leave me before, but I sobbed and begged him to stay. This time he wanted me to read the TWC post out loud and I refused. Then he told me that if I didn't read it, he'd wake up Big O and make HIM read it out loud. Crossed the line there, motherfucker. Don't.mess.with.my.kids.

It's not that I'm not torn up, but I've been watching my life from a distance for a while now, wondering who it was I was seeing, that would take that kind of a shit from a man--any man, let alone one who claimed to love me. I'd kill the man that treated my daughter like that, and aren't I teaching her that it's okay?

I just felt that my bloggy friends needed to know why my blog and my beloved dorkblogging may be a little light for a while. Or who knows? maybe it will be really heavy. But I hope at the end, he will be a better father to our daughter if he has to step up and take a more active role in her care. As long as little O still grows up sane and happy, it will ultimately be a good thing. Still hurts, though. Like a motherfucker. yep. hurts.

But then something like This happens

It just restores my faith in humanity and gives me hope.

Remember when I told you to hurry and send valentines for the troops? To a lady in Georgia? The neatest thing has happened to her. She got picked for the TV show Home Team, and got into a house for her family of six. She was chosen because of all the ways that she works to help the troops and their families. Awesome.

Good people doing great work, with no expectation of re-imbursement or reward, getting the reward of a lifetime. SO go and read about Kat, and feel better about the state of the world.

(I can't wait to tell the girls at work that this is who we sent our valentines to--some of them looked at me like I was crazy when I asked them to fill out a random valentine to a complete stranger!)

driving.me.crazy.

There is a blog out there. Fairly new. Supposedly written by a fifteen year old. A fifteen year old essentially raised by feral cats since 9/11. I'm not going to link to it, because I could be wrong, maybe I have no faith in people. Maybe it's only California's edumacation system that sucks pondwater so badly. There is no way in hell that a fifteen year old is writing this thing. Every fifteen year old I've ever known has grammar issues. Hell, most thirty year olds have SOME grammar issues. They spell things poorly. They use basic words. Top that off with being raised by a neglectful aunt for the last six years? No. Way.

Driving me Nucking Futs. I can't tell--is it a shill for the new HPV vaccine? It's bugging me, and now I lurk trying to figure out what is wrong. Because something IS wrong with this blog.

Anybody read Sookie Stackhouse books?

You scored as Vampyre. You are Vampyre, The oldest and wisest of all breeds besides the wolves. You and the wolves get along famously despite the rumors and fights over the ages. Not only are you wise but you are very mature for your age. Beautiful, strong, wise and mature. You've got the whole package!

Elf 67% Vampyre 67% Faerie 58% Wolf 58% Goddess 58% Sorceress 58% Drow 58% Dragon 58% Shadow Spirit 42% Zombie 42% What ancient breed are you? created with QuizFarm.com

I got this from Canada, who was a goddess. I'm all right with the description of a vampyre, as long as we avoid the blood-sucking bat people/Anne Rice super-goth descriptions. The illustration was interesting with a Boris Vallejo body (and yes, I DO have a nice rack, but does anybody really have a boris vallejo type body naturally?) but one of those creepy little girl-anime heads. ugh.

So there you have it. Another pointless Sunday quiz.
I may go back to bed.

The system at work...

Wednesday driving home from work, it was like poetry in motion. Every single car on the freeway pulled over to let the ambulance go by. All of the inbreeders were off the road... Except for the one driving the ambulance.
First rain in months on an oily freeway and he had to be doing ninety. It would have taken one nose picker or cell phone talker to write a whole 'nother ending to that story...My dad would have sooooo canned his ass.

Conspiracy theory:

The lawyer did it.

 

Just like he did the son.

 

He's not the baby daddy.

 

That is all.

Thursday 13 # 26?

13 songs that are pure emotive songs--instantly trigger SOME kinda reaction!

1) Back In Black--AC/DC. My first reaction? where is my drink? I should have a drink in my hand!

2) VooDoo--Godsmack. First thought? Take off your pants! (If ever there were a chill inducing/let's be bad song, that would be it)

3) Whiskey Lullaby- Brad Paisley and (I think) Allison Krause. Such a beautiful melancholy song.

4) Brick House--Another "where's my drink" song. This one also makes me think that maybe I CAN dance, maybe everyone dances badly and I'm just self concious. This is bad.

5) All Star--Smashmouth. Happy happy happy- This was the first song Big O ever claimed as "his" song.

6) Master of Puppets--Metallica. Drive. Faster--FASTER! FasterI'mdrivingI'mdriiiivingsoFAAAAST.

7) Bad--U2, thank you, NOT Michael Jackson. This song is pure emotion to me and will level me out where ever I am on the emotional richter scale.

8) Zombie--The Cranberries. Another song that is so purely emotive to me--it came on teh radio and spurred this week's list.

9) 1812 Overture. --with live cannons. My family took a trip to Oregon and in our punch drunk state, came up with "Tongue-ducting". Yeah, it's as Dorky as it sounds.

10) Baby Seat--Barenaked Ladies. the chorus? "You can't live your life in the baby seat. You've got to stand on your own, don't admit defeat."

11) Alchemy of Love--Michelle Shocked. "Silence is Golden, Words are made of Lead, and in the alchemy of love, you know, some things are better left unsaid"

12)Consequences--Robert Cray. "I was smoking and drinkin' and thinkin' when you walked by. The next thing I knew, I was makin' up my alibi."

13) Shotgun--Southern Culture on the Skids. "You cannot BUY true love, but you can shoot it's ass."

Yeah, kind of a mixed bag.
What's the song that gets to you?
hmm...my linkies from my blog and Dorkbloggers seem to be connected. interesting.

I will attempt to actually list your links! Mr linky bettah give me some love, or gimme my moolah back!

Wednesday Hero

On May 9th 2004, SFC Lloyd A. Heinrichs Jr was down at the Ocean front in Virginia Beach when a ‘Swimmer in Distress’ call came in to the Emergency Medical Services (EMS) Dispatch office about noon. Myself (Gary Couch, Dive 8), SFC Heinrichs and Petty Officer First Class Scott Weil of the U.S Navy, volunteered to respond the call. There were a total of 3 people in the water that were being pulled out to sea by the current. The temperature of the water was only around 65 degrees Fahrenheit with the air temperature at 78 degrees Fahrenheit. The undertow was very extreme that day with the beach already “Red Flagged” due to the strong currents and excessive waves.

Upon arrival to the scene, SFC Heinrichs and PO1 Weil identified the victims. Without hesitation and with total disregard for their own safety each grabbed a torpedo buoy and entered the water. SFC Heinrichs went for the first victim to the South of 36th Street while PO1 Weil went for the second and third victims, which were hanging on to each other to the North of 36th Street. As I observed SFC Heinrichs and PO1 Weil, once they were waist deep, the current rapidly pulled them out. SFC Heinrichs made his way to the first victim and started fighting his way back to shore. Once SFC Heinrichs reached his victim, he calmed her down, making the attempt to head back to shore. Several times SFC Heinrichs and his victim were rolled under by the enormous waves and undertow. His victim was completely exhausted from the ordeal. Once he reached shallow water, he assisted his victim to shore. The victim was an older heavy-set lady, early forties. The Virginia Beach Fire Department Paramedics placed the victim on a stretcher and the Virginia Beach Volunteer Rescue Squad took her to Virginia Beach General Hospital.

SFC Heinrichs was extremely exhausted and fatigued from the rescue. He turned to check on PO1 Weil and notice that PO1 Weil had reached the other two victims, a male in his late twenties and a female in her early forties. PO1 Weil was struggling with his two victims giving a hand and arm signal for ‘Help’. The female was almost passive from near drowning, and the male who had initially swum out to help her was becoming a victim himself. Without hesitation, SFC Heinrichs picked himself up and ran back into the water to assist PO1 Weil while PO1 Weil did what he could to keep them calm and afloat until help arrived.

Once SFC Heinrichs reached PO1 Weil and the other two victims, they were all rolled by several consecutive waves, pinning SFC Heinrichs under the two victims. A few moments later, SFC Heinrichs emerged between the victims with both lanyards of the torpedo buoys wrapped around his neck, gasping for air. As the situation went from bad to worse, PO1 Weil tried his best to help SFC Heinrichs with untangling the lanyards from his neck while trying to hold his passive victim’s head out of the water. SFC Heinrichs took a deep breath and submerged himself in the attempt to free his neck. As each wave came over the top of PO1 Weil and the victims, we kept waiting for him to resurface in bated breath not knowing that the lanyards kept tightening around SFC Heinrichs’ neck. While continuous waves were tossing PO1 Weil and the victims, SFC Heinrichs reemerged on the side of the victims. He had been under for over thirty seconds trying to get loose. We began to worry weather or not he was going to come back up. You could hear the heavy sigh of relief from all the EMS personnel on the beach once he resurfaced. He grabbed a hold of the male victim and started for shore. The victims once, on shore, were taken away for medical attention. PO1 Weil and SFC Heinrichs were taken to an ambulance and checked for possible hypothermia and released.

These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
It Is Foolish And Wrong To Mourn The Men Who Died. Rather We Should Thank God That Such Men Lived

This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. If you would like to participate in honoring the brave men and women who serve this great country, you can find out how by clicking here.

It's a happy Ending! I totally didn't see this one coming! YAY!

I can live with this.

You're Feingold-Gore!


As Russ Feingold, you are often on your own, a lone voice of sanity in an insane asylum.
You keep voluntarily returning to the asylum, convinced that you can change the minds of those
around you. You talk about the need for personal freedom, to avoid fighting for the rest of
one's life, and even the simple importance of cleaning up one's act. It seems no one is
listening. You even want people to have rights to love and be healthy! Now that's just
crazy-talk.

You select Al Gore as your running mate because he wins in that position.


Take the 2008 Presidential Ticket Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

One of my favorite redheads.

Pick a Peck of Pickled Peppers
Originally uploaded by alykat.

One of my fondest high school memories, and one of the only parties I went to in high school, involved my friend Lolly. We knew of our host only vaguely, but he was turning eighteen the following week and his father was throwing him out. His decision to throw a full scale par-tay the weekend before seemed perfectly logical. I have to add that he was a band geek, so it wasn't exactly animal house, but the alcohol was flowing freely.

We wandered drunkenly from room to room, following our girlfriend who WAS a music department hanger-on, getting more and more bored. Lolly, who didn't have a shy bone in her body, raided his fridge and made herself a sandwich. As she was about to dig in, our host challenged her as to why she was eating a sandwich in his kitchen.
She was a fabulous talker and somehow managed to challenge him to a pepper eating contest, based upon the huge jar of peppers she had seen in their fridge.
It was high spectacle, and they were jumping up and down, fanning their mouths. They had tears streaming down their faces, but were too drunk to throw in the towel. Finally he was about as green as the peppers and declared no more--and went running for the bathroom.
Lots of screaming and laughing later, Lolly had my arm in a death grip.
"We gotta go. NOW."

She had been dropping peppers in her shirt, into plants, they were everywhere from her hopping around and "fanning herself." We figured she had stopped about twenty peppers before the host, and it was only a matter of time until she was caught.

Good times.

Wherever you are, I love you, Lolly. You dirty little cheater.

This site was made for my Sisters-in Law.

I'm cruising the PayPerPost opportunities, and there's another one!

The sponsor of this post would like you to know that this is a sponsored post. I'm not sure I can be much clearer about that.

My former sister-in-law watched Passions. So does one of my current sisters-in-law. I truly don't get the whole witch with a tiny person as a living doll cheesy fires of hell thing. But I DO get Ugly Betty. It's on at the same time as CSI, thanks to an early prime-time set up on our local CBS affiliate, so I may be checking in with their site, www.soaps.com.

Soap Operas

I appreciate that they include Ugly Betty, but I hope that they will include the other shows we all watch--I checked for ya, CRSE, Dirt is not covered, so far. If they had a split, daytime versus nighttime thing, I'd probably live there. I always have to miss Veronica Mars, and the Honey screwed me over in my attempt to record Heroes the other night. I AM a TV junkie, I know that it's not cool to admit. I should declare that all TV is crap and turning us into a nation of drooling idiots, but that's rap music (Kidding). I love the idiot box in every form except for infomercials and TV sign offs. And televised Golf.

Now if they had a Spanish version for all of my Other sisters-in-law's Novelas, we'd have all the bases covered....

How could I resist the book quiz?

You're The Poisonwood Bible!

by Barbara Kingsolver

Deeply rooted in a religious background, you have since become both
isolated and schizophrenic. You were naively sure that your actions would help people,
but of course they were resistant to your message and ultimately disaster ensued. Since
you can see so many sides of the same issue, you are both wise beyond your years and
tied to worthless perspectives. If you were a type of waffle, it would be
Belgian.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I think my favorite part was "If you were a type of waffle, it would be
Belgian." Not sure about the rest

me me me me me me me me me me me me

The TMI Me-Me
10 Firsts

1. First best friend – Roseanna Huffman-the first in a series of redheads that I surrounded myself with. Right now is a wierd time in my life, because I have no redhead. First time since Roseanna in the First Grade. Maybe that's not true, I still have Kat via internet...

2. First car – The GRASLUG. That was the license plate on my gray VW Diesel Rabbit. I drove that car into the GROUND. I made a bi-weekly seven hour trip to my parents' house to do laundry. For a year. It was old and tired when I inherited it from my mom. I loved that car.

3. First love – Kevin Robertson. Our parents played pinochle and we played Star Wars. My first real kiss. Dark dark brown eyes. I still adore brown eyes.

4. First vacation – Aw, jeez, probably summers at my grandparent's house in Snohomish, Washington. My grandma Mickey made everything without sugar, dried fruit by the bushel--homemade fruitroll was awful, but I think I lived those summers on dried apples. And homemade Blackberry cobbler--berries picked by yours truly.

5. First job – Inventory taker for my sister-in-law's dad. Getting up at the crack of dawn to drive up to some grocery store in the mountains, being too shy to speak, just counting and getting out of there. Stupid Video games that call out numbers as I'm counting toothbrushes-screwed me up every time.

6. First piercing – Thirteen. My parents were raised Seventh Day Adventist, which, back in the day, meant no jewelry or makeup--my mom got hers pierced two weeks after me. I look at SDA people today, and I can tell things have changed!

7. First concert – Powerstation! Whooohooo! ack. But Jeni's dad dropped us off, and it was finally a concert, so I didn't care!

8. First record/cd bought – Record was Doctor, Doctor by Robert Palmer. Technically I traded a smurfette figurine, but it was the first record I pursued. The First CD was Unforgettable Fire, by U2, to play on my dad's crazy new contraption, the CD player. Still the one album I cannot live without.

9. First real love – "oh this is hard. define real. define first. define love."
Thank you for that, CRSE--I couldn't have said it any better.

10. First screen name – Still using it!

9 Latest

1. Latest alcoholic beverage – A sip of the Honey's tequila and squirt last night.

2. Latest car ride – DRiving home from teh in-laws last night.

3. Latest movie watched – Talladega Nights. Not my favorite, but it had some moments...

4. Latest phone call made – Hmmm. Musta been to teh Honey on my way to the in-laws last night.

5. Latest jacuzzi bath – No jacuzzi bath I can recollect, but Friday I had a bubble bath just for me, let Big O watch his sister and --this is truly amazing--didn't get little O in there to talk to me once.

6. Latest played cd – The Shrek 2 kareoke CD--Still Little O's favorite. kill me now.

7. Latest time you cried – When I thought my car had died. One of those last straw moments. I think I terrified the customers in the window.

8. Latest meal – Pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Breakfast food of the Gods.

9. Latest curse – I believe I called a certain party that shall remain nameless a stupid m*therf*cker because they overreacted to an innocent question.


8 Things You Wear
Im assuming this doesnt mean all at once but things you tend to wear...

1. Glasses/contacts
2. funny socks
3. jeans
4. hoodie sweatshirts
5. Skirts in the summertime, because pants are hard to find long enough.
6. My bracelet with photos of the kids when they were little.
7. A confused look.
8. My engagement ring.

7 Have You Ever

1. Dated one of your best friends – Yup.

2. Been arrested – Nope … but there’s still time, right? (lisa said this and im keeping it)(Crse said that and I'm keeping them both!)

3. Fallen in love at first sight – nope.

4. Been in a TV program – I once demonstrated that even a child can perform CPR. I think I was eight or nine. Thanks, dad--Channel seven better not have that in their archives anywhere.

5. Had your heart broken – Yup.

6. Said you love someone without meaning it – Does it count that on Wednesday I asked a customer "how can I love you", instead of "How can I help you?"?

7. Made a prank phone call - Not unless you count terrified hang ups to the boys I thought were dreamy in the 9th grade.


6 Things You’ve Done Today

1. Fixed a breakfast for the Honey.
2. Realized that I had NOT, in fact, killed the new dryer, I just had it on the wrong setting.
3. Vowed to get more accomplished today than yesterday.
4. Surfed blogs at BlogMad.
5. Read the latest at postsecret.
6. Read blogs.

5 Favorite Things

1. The logic my children use to figure things out.

2. The Honey when he's funny.

3. Kids quiet in another room, good coffee in hand, curled up on a couch, catching up with Jen.

4. Same as above, with my mom.

5. Any dinner at my brother's house.


4 People I Can Tell Anything

1. Jen

2. Bre

3. Kim

4. True Wife Confessions


3 Choices

1. Black or white? Black
2. Summer or winter? Summer but really spring. I like the bright greens.
3. Chocolate or chips? Chocolate chips.

2 things to do Before You Die

1. See a shuttle launch.

2. Babysit my grandchildren.

1 Thing You Regret

1. Not finishing school.

Sabado Gigante!

It was a looong night.

I love my in-laws. They are a warm and gracious family and they have welcomed my son and I into their homes and hearts since day 1. They are also a huge Mexican family that can overwhelm me rapidly. My least favorite thing is when the Honey calls me to go to a family function without him. Here's the thing. It's in Spanish.

The conversations. The explanation as to what is being served. The television. It's all in spanish. I speak a little spanish. But it is so much fucking WORK to figure out what is being said. They start out in English and slip into spanish mid stream, and I'm done. It's just exhausting to try and follow a conversation. There's also the small matter of Catholicism. I'm not. Catholic, that is. I lived with the ex's sister for a long time, so I am familiar with Catholicism. But the Honey's family does it differently.

When they had the rosary for the Honey's father, who passed away before I met him, I was cool with it--but they wanted me to come and pray out loud with them in spanish. I CAN'T. If it were in english, I learned enough with Leisa (Former SIL) that I could chime in with the occasional "and also with you" but I'm lost in english, really. Last night was another holiday that involved lots of prayer and then the kissing of the baby Jesus in exchange for candy. I don't know what it is about our hostesses Creche, but they are all made up like seventies night with the drag queens. Baby j looked like a hoor! Blue eyeshadow, badly applied bloodred lipstick, and more blush than Bette Davis in Mommie Dearest (That was her, right?).
There were so many things that disturbed me about that.

Once the religious part was over, we watched a TV special of Vicente Fernandez--the mariachi singer that even I recognize. But they were turning him up to top volume so they could hear him over the noise of the crowd, and there I was, trapped on the couch, because it was too cold to be in the garage with the drinkers. But I'll be damned if Vicente didn't share an onscreen moment with his guitar player, looking at him soulfully for far longer than any straight man in America would ever consider. So I amused myself the rest of the night running gay sub-texts in my head for the TV. I used to torture the Ex by running them out loud during Hercules and Xena. He never watched them the same again. Now I'll never watch vicente without remembering his affair with the band.

I knew I was in trouble when I needed the calculator.

I found this over at Welcome to My Life, Sorry About the Mess. I think I love this lady. Don't tell WHICH ones apply, just fess up to your fine!

Smoked pot -- $10
Did acid -- $5
Ever had sex at church-- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you -- $40
Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Vandalized something -- $20
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
Beat up someone -- $20
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $10
Given money to stripper -- $25
Been in love with a stripper -- $20
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know -- $0.10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
Ever drive drunk -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
Cheated on your significant other -- $10
Masturbated -- $10
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend -- $20
Done oral -- $5
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving -- $25
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Made a nasty home video -- $15
Had a threesome -- $50
Had sex in the wild -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Peed in the pool -- $0.50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Had anal sex -- $80
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25

Ahem! I ended up with a total of $565.

I am soooo tagging CRSE, KIM, Bananas, and "the mind".

You know what? I'm tagging YOU, too! Leave your score in the comments. Tell me somebody else had to get a calculator out!

My Pappa-San, the master of diplomacy.

The Hollywood Patch
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

My dad is a reformed adrenaline junky. I suspect that he was a wild man in the seventies, but by the time I became aware of him as anything other than my Daddy, he had acquired a bit of control, and dare I say, polish. (He probably learned that from living with my mother for Forty years.) When I grow up, I want to be like him.

My dad found his calling in emergency medicine in the late sixties/early seventies. At the time, people still used those funky station wagons as ambulances. My dad had to campaign long and hard to get his employers to run with the idea of converting a bread truck into an ambulance, so they could carry more of the good stuff.
The other thing that my dad pushed was EMT's as opposed to nurses to man those bigger ambulances. So a large part of my childhood was spent around my dad's EMT classes. He taught for years through the local junior college. I think I've written about the weekends my brother and I spent climbing into wrecked cars at the junk yard, and my dad challenging his students on how to get us out.
My dad was looking to supplement his retirement income a few years ago, and went to the junior college to approach them about teaching a few classes. The head of the nursing program smiled condescendingly and warned my dad that the standards had changed since he last taught, and was he sure he was up to it? My father agreed that maybe this was not his opportunity, and left the building.
The reason that I want to be like my folks when I grow up is for all of the things my father DIDN'T say. That condescending prick that my father decided he didn't want to work for failed to notice who WROTE the new standards and Statewide guidelines that he threw in my dad's face. My dad has learned enough of diplomacy not to point it out to him.
I'm trying to learn. I take the high road, and my God, there are days that I think I'll CHOKE on it. I know that it drives the Honey nuts that when I complain, I do it quietly. I just don't get fired up over most things. When I do, a call to my folks usually has me screwing my head back onto my shoulders. I try not to be gasoline, more like the blanket you throw over the flames. Except sometimes I forget to get it wet. I think I forgot to get the blanket wet at work the other day, and I have to say, I enjoyed the results immensely. I still have a little ways to go before I approach the calm self control of my father. But it was delicious. I could have enjoyed it with fava beans and a nice Chianti.

Just amazing people out there,,,

This man is a soldier in Afghanistan, and it is killing him to see toddlers barefoot or in sandals when it is ten degrees out with two feet of snow on the ground.

Send him shoes. Little shoes. He's happy to take donations, too, but Little O has outgrown a thousand pairs of shoes. So simple for such a profound effect.

I know a lot of my spastic energy is being spent on DorkBloggers right now, and I swear I won't turn this blog into a maudlin set of posts to make you cry, but there are some truly touching things in the blogosphere.

This guy is one of them:

Task Force Phoenix 5

Shoes. I have so many pairs of tiny shoes.