Chain emails AKA "Friendly Spam"

First -- I really get annoyed when people include me on the silly email version of the old fashioned chain letter. "If you don't do this in the specified time period to exactly this many people, you will suffer dire consequences! REALLY!"

Second -- I get quite irate when the sender includes all the addresses in the to or cc field -- hello?? I don't really want my address spread hither and yon. Ever heard of bcc?

Third -- just how difficult is it to remove the umpteen previous message headers and all the VALID email addresses? ok, ok, more people are removing all that crud; I can't recall any recent 'friendly spams' [my term - junk mail from those you know] with more than four 'generations'.

But -- once in awhile, I learn interesting bits of info. Such as an email address of an unpleasant person. Just how many people have the audacity to hope? oh, sorry, got sidetracked there... the audacity to use "dear" in their address?
dear.unpleasant.person@hotmail.com

gag. gack. excuse me; I need to find a bucket.
and yes, I sometimes enjoy sharing my disgust or pain with friends. aren't you lucky?

Look in the mirror....

Someone said, "It took 8 years and some to create this mess..."

That phrase "and some" is critical. Though Bush took the ball and ran as far and as fast as he could with it, his Democratic and Republican predecessors did a decent job of clearing the way, knocking down roadblocks and laying the foundation.

It took several presidents. Over time. Elected by many people.
What will it take for the collective body known as the people of the United States of America to look in the mirror and acknowledge that the face staring back played some role?
That anyone who was 18 yrs old or older on November 2, 2008 bears part of the responsibility?
This mess wasn't created by "them". It was created by "us". IMO it's going to take the vast majority of us to overcome the obstacles and get this country healthy again. It's going to take assistance and coordination from at least the Group of 20, if not more countries.

Pointing fingers, sticking our heads in the sand, and rejecting solutions out of fear that someone will scam the system do not serve any beneficial purpose.

Brokendown rental car - a tale from long ago

A friend had problems recently with her rental car, which reminded me of this tale from over a decade ago...

For my FIL's memorial service, we rented a car. One morning, the car wouldn't start when we were in the hotel parking lot.

Destination: Church.

Contents of car: three squirmy children and two exasperated adults - and that was before the car rebelled.

• DH got the car started, and after some back and forth about
  calling the rental place,
• needing to use the phone in the room,
• and - the last straw -
• DH proclaiming that he could drive the car but that would damage something -

we finally headed for the Church. On the way, I used the oh-so-cumbersome mobile phone installed in the car. (Once upon a time, it was considered a small car phone...)

I told rental dude the story, and got the line about bringing it to the airport location for exchange.

Umm, no. We're headed to a funeral. How about sending someone with a new car for us?
..... I'm sure you can do that for us.
..... Here's the address. Car must arrive during this 30 min window.
.....I'm sure you can figure out how to arrange that.
.....No, I can't give you a phone number. We're going to be inside a Church [mentally: ya know, the one for which I just gave you the address???].

We were a bit late. The %$^&^ priest was walking out of the sacristy to start the Mass -- while the widow and the deceased two children and their spouses and offspring were still standing at the back of the Church. (He was a jerk in many ways.)

When we exited the Church, the car was still sitting there. sigh. Just then, a tow truck with a car on its flatbed pulled up. Timing perfect, the guy handed us the keys to the replacement, we handed him the dud's keys, we moved two car seats and all other kid-stuff to the new car....The rest of the family and friends were shocked.
And that's my rental car breakdown story.

Tastes better IN the mug...

It's one of those days. The predicted snow is still arriving. My office is an icebox - the heat was off all weekend. So, a hot spot of tea sounds just charming.

• Mug? check
• Tea bag? check
• Hot water? check
• Sugar packets? check

Back in my office, I wait a few minutes, stir the tea, remove the bag. I get distracted, so it's a few minutes before I sip.

Blech. Tea tastes not-so-yummy. It's just one of those days.

About thirty minutes later, I look at my desk - really look at it, not the roving unseeing gaze thing. Yup. My sugar packets are sitting on my desk, plump and untorn.

Tea really does taste better with the sugar IN the mug.

I hope this lesson helps!

TOOLS!

TOOLS. How many of us have scissors, a measuring tape or ruler or both, some safety pins and a few other useful TOOLS in that kitchen catchall drawer?

Yup, sometimes the items walk, most often the scissors. So we have to send out a search party. We know we're the ones who will find said lost item in the end, but enjoy the chance to share the aggravation with everyone else in the house.

But other tools - the screwdriver, the hammer, the pliers.... Please explain why THOSE tools are out of sight, out of reach, and annoying to retrieve? They're in the basement, or the garage, or -- whichever location is the most inconvenient in your house. That male with whom you live laid claim to them, and doesn't really want to share.

But he takes forever to get around to the little jobs - unless they were his idea, and then requires every toy - err, tool - to do the job.

Please explain why a screwdriver, hammer, and pliers aren't in that kitchen catchall drawer. Really, they should be right there, ready at a moment's notice.

Oh, I know. You have to use the 'correct' screwdriver, hammer or pliers. You must choose the correct one from half a dozen - six that don't look very different at all. Don't try to convince that male that a flat screwdriver will work on most Phillips head screws, or that 90+% of the hammering jobs require a basic, lightweight hammer, or that pliers are pliers.

But they know. They know that those few tools would do most of the work. And we'd do the small jobs ourselves - and that would reduce the constant drone of 'honey, the picture still needs to be hung; the dust is an inch thick'.

Is it possible that they like hearing our voices so much that they intentionally avoid doing the simple things that would make us so happy, happier than opening another box of chocolates while on a diet?


MEN.

The reason women use butter knives as screwdrivers, shoes as hammers, and even scissors as pliers!

Introducing the BOXWOOD girls...

Take three girls, two 9 yrs old and one 6 yrs old.

Ask them to be flower girls in their aunt's wedding.

Send the dress to each 9 yr old to verify the size.

It's a frothy candlight white confection, with the requisite full skirt, slightly puffy sleeves, tiny bit of ruffles - and an added magenta sash to match the big girls' sashes.

So, yes, it's a real PRINCESS dress!

(Enjoy the oohs and ahhs as each declares she feels just like a princess)

Now, these girls are flower girls.

You know what a flower is.

I know what a flower is.

The moms know what a flower is.

And the girls know what a flower is.

And we know the job of every flower girl:

STEAL THE SHOW.

Oh, no? Ok.

To walk down the aisle with some flowers dangling awkwardly.

Yup, flowers for flower girls.

So - what did my Dlilsis the bride choose for the walking floral arrangements?

The big girls will have round ball-shaped bouquets, each one a single different magenta flower with the same filler greens and berries.

(Roses, gerber daisies, astoemeria, carnations, hydrangeas)

The little girls?

The FLOWER girls?

Oh, why give them flowers?

How about:

Balls of boxwood, with ribbon loops to hold them?

Nary a flower to hold.

So, I've been calling them boxwood girls.

- My sons heard me and have been threatened with an early demise if they dare say that to anyone!

I'm betting with myself:

Which boxwood girl comments or complains first?

(Really -- How can you be a flower girl without flowers??)

Which son will say 'boxwood girl' outloud first - and who will hear him?

Kids' Questions....

DS2, DH and I watched the entire debate.

sigh - that made listening a tad difficult for me.

DS2 kept asking great questions

- but I wanted to listen to the candidates talk!

I think his 'best' question was:
DS2: "Where's Bush?"Me: "What?"
DS2: " Why isn't President Bush there?"Me: "He's not supposed to be there. He's history, almost."
DS2: "Then why is it called the presidential debate if the president isn't there?"Me: "It's just the candidates."
DS2: "Then why isn't it called the presidential candidates debate?"Me: "I don't know."

Some Flotsam

Since it was amazingly gorgeous, I decided to walk from the physical therapist's office to Starbucks.

The intersection is really busy, so I actually waited for the 'walk' sign; {very odd of me}.

I stepped off the curb just before the sign changed to 'walk'.

One last SUV turned left on the yellow arrow.

The 20-something driver leaned towards me

and shouted through his open window

(what do you think he shouted?)

He shouted, "I'm sorry!"

I almost fainted. On the street. Immediately.

Did he just apologize for turning on a yellow light?

Yes, he did.

Smile!

When I entered Starbucks, a mother and two 7 - 8 yr old girls were in front of me.

{{Ever watch two little girls decide what to have?

I just knew I was in for a l-o-n-g wait.}}

They gazed at all the pastry options

- and rather quickly made their decisions. woo-hoo!

MOM took longer!

As she said, "I'm not familiar with ordering in Starbucks."

I was still smiling from my unexpected apology.

When my mocha was ready, so was the mom's misto.

I grabbed both and gave mom hers as I headed out the door.

She gave me a big smile!

Pass on the nice little acts of the day...

and smile even more.

Oops - as I sipped my mocha, I realized

THERE WAS NO CHOCOLATE in my mocha.

My mocha wasn't.

{{Have I mentioned I really dislike straight coffee?

It sends shivers down my spine.}}

Sigh. I went back inside -

only to find the mom at the pick up counter.

I asked her if her misto was really chocolatey.

"Yes! Do you have my misto?"

"Yes I do. I'm sorry. I must have mixed them up."

"Oh that's ok. I only took one sip. If you don't care, why don't we swap lids?"

{{OMG. Did I just hear the mom right?

Did she just suggest something sensible?

Something that avoided tossing two drinks down the drain?

Something that shows she's not a germophobe?}}

"That's fine with me."

We swapped lids, sipped, and smiled.

It was a two-fer day!

I'm still smiling as I type.

ah - nice

Random Writing from Years Past

The tears

For fear

For LOVE

For sheer exhaustion
The rollercoaster of emotions

PURE LOVE

PURE HATE

PURE JOY

PURE RAGE
RAW feelings screaming, tearing, roaring

through my veins, my heart, my soul
Sometimes I wish I was a flatliner

You know, one of them -

Those people without stories

Those people, always calm

Those people - not me -

Never get excited

Never get angry

Never get happy to the point of tears
Then I think

"What kind of world would I have?

No reaction to colors of the rainbow

No reaction to smells of autumn, cookies

No reaction to sounds of symphonies or babies gurgling

No reaction to touch of a lover's skin

No reaction to wine - or CHOCOLATE!"
I'll take the world I have

Full of turmoil and torment

Full of joy at sunbeams and moonbeams

I'll ride my rollercoaster

(Oh, the agony - I cry in line, then once in awhile I do it again)

No pandemonium; just s-l-o-w

My blog isn't off to an auspicious start, is it?? Not one word for two entire days! I haven't accomplished much -- I suffered through almost two hours of physical torture {AKA therapy} on Wednesday, then talked to my BFF for over an hour.

OH - before PT, in 90 mins, I got a gift card Visa to thanks my chauffeurs {Mom & Dad} for six weeks of getting me from home to PT and back. I asked the magic money machine for money and it spit some $20s out. I bought a grande mocha frappucino light, no whipped cream, and a pumpkin loaf slice; breakfast at 12:20 pm. I slipped into the no-appt nail place and had my polish changed. I love the color but forgot to check the name! THEN no - I didn't go to PT. I toured JoAnn's; I left w/ Archival Mist, which neutralizes acid in paper; TWO issues of Cloth, Paper, Scissors, someday I want to be published in a mag; and some odds, no ends though. Everything was on sale or I had a coupon. I love it when I don't pay full price. Once I left JoAnn's, I zipped to PT.


I noticed about a week ago that ever since i started one-handed typing seven weeks ago, i mispell words with double letters - mispell ends up mispeel, letter is leeter. I double the letter before the real double. totally odd. One handed typing is not enjoyable.


I take three Rx meds each day after I brush my teeth. I tired of opening five bottles every single morning, day after day, with no end in sight. So years ago I bought a weekly pill keeper. I only have to open bottles once every eight days.

Today started w/ a quick toss on of clothes and dropping off my DSs at the pool for swim practice. I only had ~90 mins so I visited two craft stores - Michael's and AC Moore. I only spent about $30 and paid full price for nothing. Then I hung out in Barnes & Noble, consuming a bagel and mocha light, no whipped cream.

Once we got home, I did my PT exercises, showered, etc. After brushing my teeth, I opened the cabinet to get Thurs' pills. UH OH; Friday's stash is gone - in addition to the days that should be gone. I have no idea when I took them.

I checked the 3 Rx drugs on line. I OD'd on two. But I didn't take all three doses together - well, I don't think so. The recommended action in both cases is to watch. I slept for 2 hrs and feel much better. I'm just hoping that I didn't Ambien-sleep take a day's dose. [Ambien-sleep-eating is a documented side effect; I've never had any problems.


It is time for me to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another pain & torture day. I PAY for this!