Call me a heratic, but this is funny stuff.
Jesus Is Your FB Friend
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday's Meme
Thanks to Lola at Lola's Diner - I copied her meme.
What type of day are you having? Started out weird, but what else is new.
Was there anyone who "made your day"? Too early to tell really. But I’m supposed to be the one to ‘make’ everyone else’s day. However, a lovely lady brought me a rose earlier this week to thank me for listening to her complaints.
Are you liking how you look today? So so. I did wear navy today, and it tends to be flattering, but I’m NEVER 100% happy with the way I look.
Do you have anyone crushing on you? I’d like to think so, but husbands can be so fickle.
Have you ever eaten a bug? Not on purpose.
Are you vegetarian? Vegetables? What are vegetables?
When was the last time you kissed someone? This morning as I kissed the hubby good-bye.
Have you ever had something stuck between your teeth, but no one decided to tell you?
Don’t know. No one told me.
Are you a mother or a father? Neither. Does than make me trans-parental?
When was your last paycheck? Two weeks and two days. Today is payday, but I don’t have it yet.
How many pets do you have? Two cats. Digit and Pirate (and Pirate has a pet stuffed cat – does that count? Muffin is part of our household as well, but doesn’t eat or use up the litter)
What kind of toothpaste do you use? Sensadyne for sensitive teeth – yuck.
Are you closer to being rich or poor? Define rich? Define poor?
Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No. Unless my hubby counts after a full meal.
What was the last gift someone gave you? A calligraphy set – it was my birthday two weeks ago.
Do you appreciate that person? Yes, very much. New friends to me, and very thoughtful.
Did you talk to anyone you didn't like today? Not yet, but the day is young.
Do you like picnics? Yes! Picnics are fun.
What book are you currently reading? “Needles and Pearls” by Gil McNeil.
What song did you last listen to? No idea. I don’t tend to ‘listen’ to music much.
What movie is in your DVD player? It's empty. But the last movie I watched was on the weekend and it was “My Life In Ruins” with the actress from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”.
How many windows are open in your computer? Three – Word to write this, Internet for email, and ICal for the church calendar.
Are you a very stressed out person? I can be, it all depends if I talk to someone I don’t like (teehee). Only kidding. I’m generally pretty relaxed.
What type of day are you having? Started out weird, but what else is new.
Was there anyone who "made your day"? Too early to tell really. But I’m supposed to be the one to ‘make’ everyone else’s day. However, a lovely lady brought me a rose earlier this week to thank me for listening to her complaints.
Are you liking how you look today? So so. I did wear navy today, and it tends to be flattering, but I’m NEVER 100% happy with the way I look.
Do you have anyone crushing on you? I’d like to think so, but husbands can be so fickle.
Have you ever eaten a bug? Not on purpose.
Are you vegetarian? Vegetables? What are vegetables?
When was the last time you kissed someone? This morning as I kissed the hubby good-bye.
Have you ever had something stuck between your teeth, but no one decided to tell you?
Don’t know. No one told me.
Are you a mother or a father? Neither. Does than make me trans-parental?
When was your last paycheck? Two weeks and two days. Today is payday, but I don’t have it yet.
How many pets do you have? Two cats. Digit and Pirate (and Pirate has a pet stuffed cat – does that count? Muffin is part of our household as well, but doesn’t eat or use up the litter)
What kind of toothpaste do you use? Sensadyne for sensitive teeth – yuck.
Are you closer to being rich or poor? Define rich? Define poor?
Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No. Unless my hubby counts after a full meal.
What was the last gift someone gave you? A calligraphy set – it was my birthday two weeks ago.
Do you appreciate that person? Yes, very much. New friends to me, and very thoughtful.
Did you talk to anyone you didn't like today? Not yet, but the day is young.
Do you like picnics? Yes! Picnics are fun.
What book are you currently reading? “Needles and Pearls” by Gil McNeil.
What song did you last listen to? No idea. I don’t tend to ‘listen’ to music much.
What movie is in your DVD player? It's empty. But the last movie I watched was on the weekend and it was “My Life In Ruins” with the actress from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”.
How many windows are open in your computer? Three – Word to write this, Internet for email, and ICal for the church calendar.
Are you a very stressed out person? I can be, it all depends if I talk to someone I don’t like (teehee). Only kidding. I’m generally pretty relaxed.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sometimes I'm Slow On The Uptake
This mornings (while playing hookie from church) I was visiting other blogs via "Next Blog" (what an awesome invention), and a thought crossed my mind.
Is blogging a more modern form of old-fashioned "pen pals"?
I recognize that there are a number of bloggers who do not reply to comments, and for the most part - I tend to stay away from those (not sure why). But there is a certain repartee that emerges amongst those who share their thoughts back and forth. Relationship struck, thoughts exchanged, life stories told. Doesn't that smack of good old-fashioned correspondence - only with more instant gratification?
I had a pen-pal when I was in high school (well before the advent of computers, and in fact electric typewriters confounded many). I don't remember her name, and I don't remember how out correspondence began, but I do remember she lived in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories. And we would wait months to exchange lives. Unfortunately, writing wasn't a skill for me, and our relationship lagged and fell away.
So .... what do you think? Is it just me, or do you feel like you have "pen-pals" within this journal-ling world? Only with quicker results.
Is blogging a more modern form of old-fashioned "pen pals"?
I recognize that there are a number of bloggers who do not reply to comments, and for the most part - I tend to stay away from those (not sure why). But there is a certain repartee that emerges amongst those who share their thoughts back and forth. Relationship struck, thoughts exchanged, life stories told. Doesn't that smack of good old-fashioned correspondence - only with more instant gratification?
I had a pen-pal when I was in high school (well before the advent of computers, and in fact electric typewriters confounded many). I don't remember her name, and I don't remember how out correspondence began, but I do remember she lived in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories. And we would wait months to exchange lives. Unfortunately, writing wasn't a skill for me, and our relationship lagged and fell away.
So .... what do you think? Is it just me, or do you feel like you have "pen-pals" within this journal-ling world? Only with quicker results.
Friday, March 26, 2010
I Am Bereft
Main Entry: be·reft
Function: adjective
1 a : deprived or robbed of the possession or use of something : lacking something needed, wanted, or expected
I just finished Book 2 (New Moon) of the Twilight Saga, and I don't have Book 3 (Eclipse) in my possession. I may actually have to clean my house this weekend.
Function: adjective
1 a : deprived or robbed of the possession or use of something : lacking something needed, wanted, or expected
I just finished Book 2 (New Moon) of the Twilight Saga, and I don't have Book 3 (Eclipse) in my possession. I may actually have to clean my house this weekend.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
I Don't Do BandWagon's
What is it with “Band Wagon”, and why does everyone seem to jump on one at some time or another?
I generally fight literary bandwagons when the come along. You know …. When “everyone” is tell you to read such-and-such a book. Nothing sends me further away from reading a book then when someone tells me I’ve gotta read this one, or that one. As if my life would not be complete if I didn’t follow suit.
I never did “The Da Vinci Code” bandwagon. I didn’t get on “The Shack” wagon. And there always seems to be a “Christian book of the month” I must read. I admit that I did read (ravenously so) the Harry Potter books, but … to be fair I read the first one well before it became the craze. I was tickled pink to be ahead of the game on that one.
More recently though I succumb to a bandwagon I had been adamantly opposed to – both reading the book, or see the movie. As I mentioned in an entry last week – when dreaming about Vampires - I admitted to reading “Twilight” at the time. Hence, my dream.
I didn’t want to read the book. I didn’t want to see the movie. It had no appeal to me what so ever, but a co-worker (a man) talked me into it and in turn leant me his copy. Now … 10 days later I confess that I have read book 1 through twice, watched the movie between the two book sittings, and am now half way through book 2 – New Moon.
I must also further confess that I have ordered the complete set in hardcover from Amazon.ca just this morning.
I’d like to justify my behaviour by thinking that the bandwagon passed me by many months/years ago, and I am now just picking up the fall out. No fault of my own. But I gotta tell ya folks – I’ve loved every blinking word that I read! I can’t get enough. I am sickly addicted. I believe I’m endangering my job because I take sneak reads when its slow and there’s no one around to catch me (yes, I know that God is always watching).
But this albeit belated “bandwagon” has been a joy ride – almost better than a screaming roller coaster. Hand up in the air and screaming with excitement over the next hill.
I generally fight literary bandwagons when the come along. You know …. When “everyone” is tell you to read such-and-such a book. Nothing sends me further away from reading a book then when someone tells me I’ve gotta read this one, or that one. As if my life would not be complete if I didn’t follow suit.
I never did “The Da Vinci Code” bandwagon. I didn’t get on “The Shack” wagon. And there always seems to be a “Christian book of the month” I must read. I admit that I did read (ravenously so) the Harry Potter books, but … to be fair I read the first one well before it became the craze. I was tickled pink to be ahead of the game on that one.
More recently though I succumb to a bandwagon I had been adamantly opposed to – both reading the book, or see the movie. As I mentioned in an entry last week – when dreaming about Vampires - I admitted to reading “Twilight” at the time. Hence, my dream.
I didn’t want to read the book. I didn’t want to see the movie. It had no appeal to me what so ever, but a co-worker (a man) talked me into it and in turn leant me his copy. Now … 10 days later I confess that I have read book 1 through twice, watched the movie between the two book sittings, and am now half way through book 2 – New Moon.
I must also further confess that I have ordered the complete set in hardcover from Amazon.ca just this morning.
I’d like to justify my behaviour by thinking that the bandwagon passed me by many months/years ago, and I am now just picking up the fall out. No fault of my own. But I gotta tell ya folks – I’ve loved every blinking word that I read! I can’t get enough. I am sickly addicted. I believe I’m endangering my job because I take sneak reads when its slow and there’s no one around to catch me (yes, I know that God is always watching).
But this albeit belated “bandwagon” has been a joy ride – almost better than a screaming roller coaster. Hand up in the air and screaming with excitement over the next hill.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Serves Me Right!
Thank you to all that sent greetings for my birthday. My blog-smithing cyber heart is overwhelmed with the love! And to quote Sally Fields “You like me, you really like me!”
I did in fact have a lovely birthday, lovelier than I’ve had in years. I felt cared for and loved. Which is always a good thing.
Since Tuesday my Technicolor dreaming life has stepped it up a notch. May there’s too much sugar in my birthday diet.
Two nights ago I dreamt that I was returning from some event and on the spur of the moment I decided that I’d hope the ferry and do a surprise visit on a girlfriend who lives on one of the smaller islands.
Whatever event I’d just been too caused me to have luggage, so I thought I would just pop home – switch out clothes and be gone. But once I got to my house, which just happened to be in the dead center the ferry terminal parking lot, and I could see on the giant clock over the terminal depot that my ferry was leaving in 15 minutes. I had to hustle.
Something made me think to pick up my banana phone (yes, you heard me right. My phone was a banana and the top inch flipped open to be able to dial and put against your ear) and let my friend know I was coming. When she answered she was very gruff with me and immediately told me that she was in a lot of pain because “didn’t I know she’d had an accident?!? And was in no shape to have company??!!??”
We proceeded to have a very frightful verbal fight on the phone, and in the middle of one of her tirades I just hung up my banana phone on her. SLAM!! Or more apt SNAP!! I couldn’t believe she’d spoken to me like that. We’ve been friends for many years and have never spoken like that to one another.
Some other stuff happened in the dream, which I don’t remember, but then in the end I called her back, apologized and we made friends again.
I woke up feeling fine.
That was one weird dream, but then last night ……
I dreamt I was with friends having a picnic outside of an old abandoned mansion. A little girl with us kept wandering off and going into the old house. I went in looking for her and came across a good-looking young man who was the curator of the house and was giving tours. He was explaining the significance of different architecture and items in the old house.
He eventually led us downstairs into the basement garage where there was a moving conveyor belt of antique cars and carriages. There were even a few horses down there for effect. Walking further into the bowls of the basement it turns out that the curator was in fact a vampire and he had the hots for my neck.
Which would normally be a good thing, but not when sharp teeth are involved.
After getting the goods from me, but not before I also turned into a vampire a couple of young women came into the basement. They were jealous of his attentions to me and simply (squeamish need not read) slit my throat. Don't worry, I didn't feel a thing, although I was a little disgusted at how dirty I was.
Everyone knows that when a vampire wants to turn someone into a fellow vampire they don’t suck you dry (so to speak). So what little blood I had left was now spilling out of the gaping hole in my neck – and I died. Only I didn’t know I died because I kept walking around.
Once I realized I was dead and had tuned into a ghost I went in search for a place that I could haunt for the rest of my ….. life …. eternity …. Whatever it is that follows these events.
And I woke up.
I have absolutely no idea where dream number one came out of. I’m all good with my girlfriend, so there isn’t any angst to work there. But dream number two and cute vampire – that comes straight of the pages of “Twilight” which I’m reading at the moment. This is not a book I would normally read, but a co-worker was adamant that I give it a try.
See what being nice does for you – you read books that give you weird dreams!
I did in fact have a lovely birthday, lovelier than I’ve had in years. I felt cared for and loved. Which is always a good thing.
Since Tuesday my Technicolor dreaming life has stepped it up a notch. May there’s too much sugar in my birthday diet.
Two nights ago I dreamt that I was returning from some event and on the spur of the moment I decided that I’d hope the ferry and do a surprise visit on a girlfriend who lives on one of the smaller islands.
Whatever event I’d just been too caused me to have luggage, so I thought I would just pop home – switch out clothes and be gone. But once I got to my house, which just happened to be in the dead center the ferry terminal parking lot, and I could see on the giant clock over the terminal depot that my ferry was leaving in 15 minutes. I had to hustle.
Something made me think to pick up my banana phone (yes, you heard me right. My phone was a banana and the top inch flipped open to be able to dial and put against your ear) and let my friend know I was coming. When she answered she was very gruff with me and immediately told me that she was in a lot of pain because “didn’t I know she’d had an accident?!? And was in no shape to have company??!!??”
We proceeded to have a very frightful verbal fight on the phone, and in the middle of one of her tirades I just hung up my banana phone on her. SLAM!! Or more apt SNAP!! I couldn’t believe she’d spoken to me like that. We’ve been friends for many years and have never spoken like that to one another.
Some other stuff happened in the dream, which I don’t remember, but then in the end I called her back, apologized and we made friends again.
I woke up feeling fine.
That was one weird dream, but then last night ……
I dreamt I was with friends having a picnic outside of an old abandoned mansion. A little girl with us kept wandering off and going into the old house. I went in looking for her and came across a good-looking young man who was the curator of the house and was giving tours. He was explaining the significance of different architecture and items in the old house.
He eventually led us downstairs into the basement garage where there was a moving conveyor belt of antique cars and carriages. There were even a few horses down there for effect. Walking further into the bowls of the basement it turns out that the curator was in fact a vampire and he had the hots for my neck.
Which would normally be a good thing, but not when sharp teeth are involved.
After getting the goods from me, but not before I also turned into a vampire a couple of young women came into the basement. They were jealous of his attentions to me and simply (squeamish need not read) slit my throat. Don't worry, I didn't feel a thing, although I was a little disgusted at how dirty I was.
Everyone knows that when a vampire wants to turn someone into a fellow vampire they don’t suck you dry (so to speak). So what little blood I had left was now spilling out of the gaping hole in my neck – and I died. Only I didn’t know I died because I kept walking around.
Once I realized I was dead and had tuned into a ghost I went in search for a place that I could haunt for the rest of my ….. life …. eternity …. Whatever it is that follows these events.
And I woke up.
I have absolutely no idea where dream number one came out of. I’m all good with my girlfriend, so there isn’t any angst to work there. But dream number two and cute vampire – that comes straight of the pages of “Twilight” which I’m reading at the moment. This is not a book I would normally read, but a co-worker was adamant that I give it a try.
See what being nice does for you – you read books that give you weird dreams!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Carrot Cake for everyone!
Well, I don't know how it happened, but I woke up this morning and added a notch to my age. Yes, folks - 48 years ago this morning my parents welcomed this little bundle of joy in their existing family of Ma, Pa & two teenage boys.
The funny part is that I don't really think of myself as 'that' age. I probably would peg myself somewhere in the mid-thirty's. But not in a delusional way. In a good way. I was 8 when my mom was 48 and she seemed so old. Mind you - she was pretty exhausted raising me. I don't think she ever got over getting pregnant at 39 and with teen boys at home. This is where I can safely say that my mom lived firmly in the land of "denial". But that's another story.
When my mom was 48, and I was turned 8 it was 1970. In 1970 ....
Men wore pants that went VERY high, and were large in the leg.
My mother made most of my close, generally in polyester and in oranges and browns.
Platform shoes and disco were beginning their rise to fame.
(keep in mind I wasn't born in 1970, but a merely reflecting on my mothers life when she was my age now.)
I share my birthday with these folks: Flavor Flav, Erik Estrada, Susan E. Isaacs, Lauren Graham, Jerry Lewis, Henny Youngman - to name a few.
I have in fact had a wonderful day at work. I've barely got a lick of work done. I've been sung the Happy Birthday song twice, and a co-worker baked my favourite "Carrot Cake" with cream cheese icing. I don't think I've been treated quite this royally for a long long time. And it feels good, and I feel loved.
It's all good my blogger friends! It's all good!
The funny part is that I don't really think of myself as 'that' age. I probably would peg myself somewhere in the mid-thirty's. But not in a delusional way. In a good way. I was 8 when my mom was 48 and she seemed so old. Mind you - she was pretty exhausted raising me. I don't think she ever got over getting pregnant at 39 and with teen boys at home. This is where I can safely say that my mom lived firmly in the land of "denial". But that's another story.
When my mom was 48, and I was turned 8 it was 1970. In 1970 ....
Men wore pants that went VERY high, and were large in the leg.
My mother made most of my close, generally in polyester and in oranges and browns.
Platform shoes and disco were beginning their rise to fame.
(keep in mind I wasn't born in 1970, but a merely reflecting on my mothers life when she was my age now.)
I share my birthday with these folks: Flavor Flav, Erik Estrada, Susan E. Isaacs, Lauren Graham, Jerry Lewis, Henny Youngman - to name a few.
I have in fact had a wonderful day at work. I've barely got a lick of work done. I've been sung the Happy Birthday song twice, and a co-worker baked my favourite "Carrot Cake" with cream cheese icing. I don't think I've been treated quite this royally for a long long time. And it feels good, and I feel loved.
It's all good my blogger friends! It's all good!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
School daze memories
A huge thank you to all who responded to my last post. I am delighted to say that my sixth invitation was accepted, and we will be joined by another couple.
One of my commentors said something to the effect that I should forget the couple thing and have a girls night out. Which is a brilliant idea, however, as 50% of the gender of the couples I asked ARE my girl friends and the ones I would ask to do a girls night out. So you see I'd still find myself in the same dilemma.
But, it's all good.
On another note - last night as I lay in bed I asked myself a question and I'd like to pass it along to you.
In your days at Elementary School - what was your favourite room at the school?
I'm really not sure why this query came to my mind, but it did and I reflected on it. Kindergarten through half of grade 5 was spent at Central Elementary School. It was in fact the same elementary school my dad had attended 40 years earlier, and my Grandfather (a mason or brick layer) had helped build.
School was never a strong point, or even a truly happy place for me growing up. I did not take comfort in books or learning. Social skills for this very shy little lass were hard to come by, and I generally spent a lot of time causing "innocent" trouble in the classroom - especially for the boys for some reason.
But I digress - my favourite room in the entire two storey building was not the Gym (Phys-ed and I never did see eye-to-eye), nor the Art room (back in the days when the school system actually taught art), or the music room (the teacher had a lazy eye and I could never tell if she was looking at me or yelling at the person beside me). Strangely enough it was the Library that I took comfort in being in. I say 'strangely' because I didn't like to read.
If a book had lots of pictures I'd be gone for hours just looking at different things. But reading . . . not my bag. I can even remember being one of the kids that had to take the Remedial Reading class. Hated it!
But there was something about the peaceful quietness of the library that I couldn't find anywhere else. I even remember there being a huge bay window in this room that begged to have you curl up in the window seat and daydream out the window - or into a fun picture book - take your pick.
It wasn't until a few years later, and a different school that I truly got hooked on ready. At the ripe old age of 12 I somehow got introduced to Historical (read: bodice ripper) Romance. I've rarely been without a book on the go since then. Although, I'm happy to say my reading tastes have matured.
I don't visit the library very often, but when I do, I always drink in the change of pace and excitement at finding a new adventure on the written page.
So .... what was your favourite room and why?
One of my commentors said something to the effect that I should forget the couple thing and have a girls night out. Which is a brilliant idea, however, as 50% of the gender of the couples I asked ARE my girl friends and the ones I would ask to do a girls night out. So you see I'd still find myself in the same dilemma.
But, it's all good.
On another note - last night as I lay in bed I asked myself a question and I'd like to pass it along to you.
In your days at Elementary School - what was your favourite room at the school?
I'm really not sure why this query came to my mind, but it did and I reflected on it. Kindergarten through half of grade 5 was spent at Central Elementary School. It was in fact the same elementary school my dad had attended 40 years earlier, and my Grandfather (a mason or brick layer) had helped build.
School was never a strong point, or even a truly happy place for me growing up. I did not take comfort in books or learning. Social skills for this very shy little lass were hard to come by, and I generally spent a lot of time causing "innocent" trouble in the classroom - especially for the boys for some reason.
But I digress - my favourite room in the entire two storey building was not the Gym (Phys-ed and I never did see eye-to-eye), nor the Art room (back in the days when the school system actually taught art), or the music room (the teacher had a lazy eye and I could never tell if she was looking at me or yelling at the person beside me). Strangely enough it was the Library that I took comfort in being in. I say 'strangely' because I didn't like to read.
If a book had lots of pictures I'd be gone for hours just looking at different things. But reading . . . not my bag. I can even remember being one of the kids that had to take the Remedial Reading class. Hated it!
But there was something about the peaceful quietness of the library that I couldn't find anywhere else. I even remember there being a huge bay window in this room that begged to have you curl up in the window seat and daydream out the window - or into a fun picture book - take your pick.
It wasn't until a few years later, and a different school that I truly got hooked on ready. At the ripe old age of 12 I somehow got introduced to Historical (read: bodice ripper) Romance. I've rarely been without a book on the go since then. Although, I'm happy to say my reading tastes have matured.
I don't visit the library very often, but when I do, I always drink in the change of pace and excitement at finding a new adventure on the written page.
So .... what was your favourite room and why?
Monday, March 8, 2010
I Refuse to Pity Party Alone!
I'm having a pity party and you are all invited!!!
That being said - I don't want any pity comments left. I just need a place to express my downtrodden heart.
As I've expressed on many occasions here, I have a husband who is a good hermit. He would even tell you that he doesn't like people - except me. I, on the other hand, need / want / desire a little more social in my life - but because my husband doesn't wish to participate - I often forgo adventures with friends. And I fear the outcome has been that I/we have alienated ourselves from many of our friends.
That's not my pity party - this is ....
Next week is my birthday. Tuesday to be exact. It falls (and usually does) directly in the middle of spring break so although that doesn't affect me, it does affect a number of our acquaintances who are erstwhile busy with family type things.
In an extreme need for outside of the normal social (usually the hubby will take me out for dinner, and we'd be home by 7:30 and plugged back into the TV) I decided that I needed to find one couple who would go out to dinner with us. Change it up, as it were. I didn't think this would be a hard task - find one other couple in this world who also need to eat ....
I was wrong. As of this morning I have been turned down by no less that 4 couples. All with legitimate reasons - out of town - meetings .... Its the way life goes. But its just making my heart hurt so much.
Do I smell?
Do people really not like me (or my husband)?
Do I have the worlds worst timing? I can't help when I was born.
And YES - for me it is important to do something extra special ON the day. Is this so wrong? (That and I will not compromise on Birthday cake - must be Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese icing.)
Does anyone want to come and celebrate my birthday with me?
That being said - I don't want any pity comments left. I just need a place to express my downtrodden heart.
As I've expressed on many occasions here, I have a husband who is a good hermit. He would even tell you that he doesn't like people - except me. I, on the other hand, need / want / desire a little more social in my life - but because my husband doesn't wish to participate - I often forgo adventures with friends. And I fear the outcome has been that I/we have alienated ourselves from many of our friends.
That's not my pity party - this is ....
Next week is my birthday. Tuesday to be exact. It falls (and usually does) directly in the middle of spring break so although that doesn't affect me, it does affect a number of our acquaintances who are erstwhile busy with family type things.
In an extreme need for outside of the normal social (usually the hubby will take me out for dinner, and we'd be home by 7:30 and plugged back into the TV) I decided that I needed to find one couple who would go out to dinner with us. Change it up, as it were. I didn't think this would be a hard task - find one other couple in this world who also need to eat ....
I was wrong. As of this morning I have been turned down by no less that 4 couples. All with legitimate reasons - out of town - meetings .... Its the way life goes. But its just making my heart hurt so much.
Do I smell?
Do people really not like me (or my husband)?
Do I have the worlds worst timing? I can't help when I was born.
And YES - for me it is important to do something extra special ON the day. Is this so wrong? (That and I will not compromise on Birthday cake - must be Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese icing.)
Does anyone want to come and celebrate my birthday with me?
Thursday, March 4, 2010
To Afraid to Party, Eh!
You are SOOOO not a daring bunch, but that’s ok. I still love you. (do you feel guilt ridden?)
Thank you to the commenter’s from my last post for taking the time to let me know you’d read my challenge. Thanks to EuGeNe for sending a photo, unfortunately I was unable to open it. But I certainly appreciate the effort.
So – with no further fan fair I will fill this entry with a brief history of Mugwhump and hair.
As do most babies, I started out bald.
I like to think I toddled right into the realm of cute - blond and blue eyed.
Unfortunately I think all was lost by the time my first day of school rolled around (September 1967). I was quickly descending into geekdom.
By age 12 it was proven I had no fashion sense. This particular pink dress (a hand me down, and I hated it) is probably the very reason I can't stand pink to this day. Arrrrgh!!! That's my proud Mom in the background.
Continuing to live on the edge of unfortunate this picture is from my high school graduation (June 1980). My best friends mom decided to help me with a home perm the day before this picture was taken. It burned my hair to a frizzy crisp. This picture (thankfully) doesn't show the full extent of damage done. I had managed to straighten it a little, but I swore off of home perms for the rest of my life.
Unless you lived the 80's you may not recall that 'big hair' was in. I - the ever unaware fashionista - followed suit - big hair - big shoulder pads.
I like to think I've learned a thing or two over the last 48 years of living on this earth. Mostly - that if you can't laugh at yourself - you can't laugh with your heart. And believe me - these pictures give me much to laugh at.
So once you've picked yourselves up off the floor let me know that you're laughing with me, not at me. :-)
Thank you to the commenter’s from my last post for taking the time to let me know you’d read my challenge. Thanks to EuGeNe for sending a photo, unfortunately I was unable to open it. But I certainly appreciate the effort.
So – with no further fan fair I will fill this entry with a brief history of Mugwhump and hair.
As do most babies, I started out bald.
I like to think I toddled right into the realm of cute - blond and blue eyed.
Unfortunately I think all was lost by the time my first day of school rolled around (September 1967). I was quickly descending into geekdom.
By age 12 it was proven I had no fashion sense. This particular pink dress (a hand me down, and I hated it) is probably the very reason I can't stand pink to this day. Arrrrgh!!! That's my proud Mom in the background.
Continuing to live on the edge of unfortunate this picture is from my high school graduation (June 1980). My best friends mom decided to help me with a home perm the day before this picture was taken. It burned my hair to a frizzy crisp. This picture (thankfully) doesn't show the full extent of damage done. I had managed to straighten it a little, but I swore off of home perms for the rest of my life.
Unless you lived the 80's you may not recall that 'big hair' was in. I - the ever unaware fashionista - followed suit - big hair - big shoulder pads.
I like to think I've learned a thing or two over the last 48 years of living on this earth. Mostly - that if you can't laugh at yourself - you can't laugh with your heart. And believe me - these pictures give me much to laugh at.
So once you've picked yourselves up off the floor let me know that you're laughing with me, not at me. :-)
Monday, March 1, 2010
I'll Show You Mine, If You Show Me Yours
Nothing dirty here!!!
I dare you to send me a picture of your worst hair cut/do.
I WILL locate my worst haircut picture, and I even know which one it was.
If you are brave - send me your worst. You can even blot out your face if you need to, to keep you anonymity. I'm down with that. But I wanna see the hair!
You can email it to lj . ducharme at gmail dot com.
I'll compile all contenders and post them at the end of the week.
Come on ..... be brave!
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