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!
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.
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.
The lawyer did it. Just like he did the son. He's not the baby daddy. That is all.
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!
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!
 
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.
 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.
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 OperasI 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....
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
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.
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 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!
 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.
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 5Shoes. I have so many pairs of tiny shoes.
Why isn't there some kind of a test you have to pass before they give you a checkbook, or a visa check card? I can see if you are eighteen and just got your checkbook, you might need to ask how to change the cents on the check and have it still be legal. But when you are WELL into your forties, if not beyond them, you should pretty much have the change it and initial it thing down. The same thing goes for the Visa check cards. IF you don't get that I'm processing it as a credit card, because that's all that we take, but it is still coming out of your Checking, so could you please NOT have kittens, well I'm afraid I'll have to cut up your card. I want a big REVOKED stamp and some indelible red ink. I'm just gonna stamp your forehead, riiiight here, above your eyebrows. I have revoked your checking rights, I have revoked your visa check card. Pay in Cash.
Thursday Thirteen can be seen at:  Click on the Toilet Paper!
 LCpl. Nicholas J. Manoukian22 years old from Lathrup, Michigan1st Marines 6th Batallion 2nd Marine DivisionOct 21, 2006 Hereis a website that LCpl. Manoukian's mother set up for her son after he lost his life in Ramadi.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 LivedThis 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. The Oscars are coming. Who will thank this young man for his bravery, or his family for their sacrifice? Could you bitch about the luxury taxes on your Oscar gift bag one more time, because I don't think the soldier's wives can hear you while they wait in line at the payday loanshark, trying to find a way to pay the mortgage.
 I'm just sayin'.
 tall girls
Originally uploaded by Lyubov.When we all hit middle school, there were certain girls that were clearly taller than certain boys. We all soldiered on with the comforting thought that the boys would be late bloomers, but everything would even out. As time wore on, it became clear that our mothers had been giving out false comfort. We were tall girls, and some of those boys were always going to be speaking to our training bras. We each dealt with this in our own way. Some girls hunched their shoulders to try and be smaller, somehow. Other girls figured out that there was no shame in being tall, and kept their shoulders back, and their heads high. As we moved into high school, I noticed a disturbing trend. The tall girls who hunched their shoulders seemed suspended in this junior high stage of being boy crazy. I watched in horror as they twittered and simpered their way down the hallways, as if they were the mice from Cinderella come to life. Six foot tall Valkyries, mincing down the hallways, giggling and chittering like fifth graders at the first boy-girl party. As their boyfriends rounded the bases, they became the most horrifyingly vocal aggressors. They stalked their crushes like prey, and everything was drama. UGH. I became hyper aware of my own actions, and went to great lengths to avoid being seen as a BMHG. They were the Big, Maaaaan Hungry Girls. One of the BMHG's rode the bus with me, and had a locker next to me. We were each slowly removing the Duran Duran pins from our jackets one by one, working our way towards adulthood. But Michelle had the most God-Awful habit of bringing her romance novels to school. I could not have been more horrified. I read my mom's trashy novels, and they were FABULOUS. But I'd sooner be caught dead than be seen reading one. I used to snatch them out of her locker and read the backs out loud in my most dramatic voice, trying to get her to "cool up" a bit and leave them at home. Even years later, when I ran my own bookstore, and read every cheap smut novel printed, I never read them in public. I read cheap historical romance novels. I'm outing myself. I can tear through a typical romance novel in about three hours--If Little O is bugging me. They are usually over quicker than that. (One of the reasons I love Sci-Fi is that it takes me a lot longer to read because the concepts are so different.) The impetus of this whole post was that this weekend, I read a phrase that stopped me cold. "Tiny stars burst behind her eyes and the taste of honey rose on her tongue." I have to admit that I did not come to the marriage bed in a pure, virginal state. Ahem. This isn't one of those blogs, so let's just say that I don't feel like I've missed out on life. Tiny stars? Yeah, I've been there. But the taste of honey? There is a whole new crop of BMHG's coming up, and they are going to be bitter, indeed, when they fail to taste the honey.
I often joke that I'm not sure how I'll get thru Big O's teenage years. I'm pretty sure it won't be like this: She's 35, she has a 16 year old son. For his birthday, she throws him a party. (So far, I am right there with her.)In honor of the occassion, she liquors them all up. (There went the fork in the road!)Then she throws them all out to drive home. (WTF?)
Twelve of them get into a serious accident on the way home, injuring 11 out of 12. (How in the holy hell did they get twelve in a car? Was one of them driving the group-home van?)WAIT! The hits just keep on coming! One of the kids let slip that he and the Mrs. did the bone dance while celebrating the birth of her son, his friend. His sixteen year old friend. (If he had the most exquisite body on earth, it'd still be a teenage boy's body, with all of the skill and control of a ferret on crack--eeeww.)She is married to a cop in a neighboring town. (Should I say was?)Okay, the sex thing is unconfirmed, and I could be wrong that everyone was in one car--maybe it was TWO cars full of drunk teenagers that she sent home once she'd had her fill (As it were). Ah, life in the great Central Valley of California. From the folks who brought you the kiddie-tackling football coach.
 | You scored as Cinderella.Your alter ego is Cinderella! You often find yourself doing a lot of housework, but if you are patient, your hard work usually pays off. You are prone to losing things, so dont rush through everything.
| Peter Pan | | 81% | Cinderella | | 81% | Ariel | | 69% | Goofy | | 69% | Sleeping Beauty | | 56% | Cruella De Ville | | 56% | Pinocchio | | 50% | The Beast | | 50% | Donald Duck | | 50% | Snow White | | 38% | |
Hmmm, somehow my answers about hating housework got me here, but I DO lose things...
The color of night. Serene and mysterious, black conjures up images of elegant evening gowns, dashing tuxedos, and gleaming limousines. Traditionally a symbol of success, black also represents power and an uncompromising demand for perfection. Not surprisingly, you tend to set challenging goals for yourself and do whatever it takes to achieve them — your strength of character is second to none. This unfaltering determination, along with your natural elegance, impresses people. But keep in mind that your personality might be intimidating to some. Try to temper your demanding side with a little softness — trust us, it won't kill you. Overall, though, black is the color of professionalism and achievement, which means it's clearly the color for you.
I'd have guessed something else. I don't know why.
At least it wasn't Rhonda! I was almost a Rhonda, and I don't think I'd have been a good one!
