First day of school

*Can you see what Christy is holding in her hands? Yep, the car keys....

humiliation is fun!

Check out the fire extinguisher in Jonathan's hands.

adding indignity to injury

After a trying week that included, how does one put this delicately, unemployment, a three-vehicle pile-up (no injuriues, thank God), a failed emissions test, and culminated with the dog dying, I awoke this Monday morning feeling confident that things would turn around this week.

One could say that I am channeling positive thoughts. Then I found out that the cannibalistic cyclids attacked the angel fish over night, and he was dead this morning, half-eaten.

Not to be deterred, I proceeded with my day, fearful that I would fail the emissions test this afternoon. I have a mechanic par excellence, and he came through for me. The Loser Cruiser passed the test. The State of Georgia was once again able to stick it to me with the tag renewal fees.

And then, while leaving the tag agency, perhaps too cocky after winning this particular round against the fates, a bird shit on my head.

"Oh, the pain, the pain."

Dr. Zachary Smith, Lost in Space

Look who turned five-oh

oh, oh.

Play time: I look hot as a super hero

Your Superpower Should Be Mind Reading

You are brilliant, insightful, and intuitive. You understand people better than they would like to be understood. Highly sensitive, you are good at putting together seemingly irrelevant details. You figure out what's going on before anyone knows that anything is going on! Why you would be a good superhero: You don't care what people think, and you'd do whatever needed to be done Your biggest problem as a superhero: Feeling even more isolated than you do now

What Should Your Superpower Be?

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Unfortunately, this is more like it:

Human Rights violation?

Or just a violation of good taste? Is this catechesis or calisthenics? Check out these prisoners who exercise with dance. Maybe not a bad idea after all, only you gotta wonder where they got the scapular for Whoopi's character.

If you're bold, they do Michael Jackson's "Thriller." I have nothing more to say.

The experiment is over!

I am happy to say that after two years, I finally got around to finishing the Ink 'n Doodles challenge--I don't even remember what it was, teehee. Anyway, if you like it, thanks, if you don't, blame Rob.

It'll be available for a limited time while I decide what to do with it, so pop in and check out the free preview at the link. Just click on the cover.

Is it stealing if I give the dead guy credit?

The World Is Too Much With Us

William Wordsworth (I don't even like the Romantics)

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

Penance Post

I am emerging from my self-imposed information superhighway diet to post this birthday greeting for She-Who-Is-Bitter-I-Did-Not-Post-A-Timely-Felicitation yesterday.

Evidently, a midnight call was insufficient, and to be fair, this oversight was a slight, well...slighting. Nevertheless, I did spend all day, from said midnight hour to 6:20 pm yesterday, recalling every pang, every insecurity, every indignity of 23 hours of labor that brought forth my beloved first born.

If she complains that she suffers the indignities of all my anxieties with a first born, i.e., a reluctance to let her do things on her own, the fearful cutting of the umbilical cord (it's still attached, although she comes at it with a chainsaw), and my own misgivings about watching her grow up and become the lovely young adult that she inevitably has become, she should be somewhat consoled by the fact that I loved her first.

Happy Birthday, Vic!

here she is, the center of attention, as it should be (no doubt she thinks it)

Pop Culture is Tomorrow's Classics

I'm betting that Harry Potter's saga will be become required reading in some curriculum hundreds of years from now--it already is the stuff of college courses and Ph.D. dissertations, so why not?

This little piece that I have here for your listening pleasure comes from Nintendo--some guy has arranged a classical interpetation of the theme from Legend of Zelda. I played the game when I was younger, but always preferred Super Mario Brothers. Nevertheless, I recognize what to me, was often hypnotic pieces of the game, but here, produced so beautifully.

Even if you are clueless about Zelda, I think you'll really enjoy this.



Of course, I had to include the beat-boxing flute:

I love Snape

Alas, 11:30 pm, and no chance I'll have the book until John and Jonathan have read it first.

I'm going on the record that Snape is not a complete shit, and will have some redeeming quality. Too bad an essay I wrote on the topic has now become obsolete.

As for Harry's fate--good prevails, although I suspect that following the literary mythological canon that Rowling has written leads me to believe that Harry dies in order to save the world from Voldemort.

But who is the second character?

Perhaps it is Voldemort---does he count? They go down together. Anyone else will be nonsensical, unless Snape ponies up. That would be classic, and classy.

good stuff

Reading a variety of blogs ultimately leads you to finding the occasional gem, which is what I'm gonna share with you today--the gem that is. The blogs I read regularly are already gem-like, but since I read them regularly, it's not like I could point you in their direction all the time if you don't choose them of your own volition because I listed them here to the right. It's that whole horse and water problem...

But you're here already, and evidently still reading [a fact that continues to amaze me, btw] so I'm hijacking you today to check out Nickerblog's post of "30 random ways to a happier life." I've always felt that happiness comes with simple things, and I'm a sucker for random things, so here's a sampling:

1. Learn early on to enjoy warm soda. Trust me, it comes in handy. While you're at it, learn to drink black coffee. [emphasis mine--sage advice, indeed]

***

11. Cut out people that bum you out.

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17. Get rid of the stuff you're hoarding. It's an emotional drain.

***

25. Treat yourself to nice underwear. Life is too short.

It ends rather cleverly, and some dumb poster didn't get it because he was looking for item #30, ha! He saves the best for last.

what I did instead of laundry

Too cute.

Oh-Oh, Look Who Got Older

It's Christy! My Friday the 13th good luck charm. I love you!

12 of 12 (sort of)

Unfortunately, I left my camera locked in my filing cabinet, so, in the spirit of insanity, I used PAINT to draw my stick-figure day. Evidently I didn't have enough coffee today....

That Catholic Show! Again!

I love this show. Check out Jaime Father Jaime during his ordination. And this go round, definitely hang around for the out takes.

Nerdada

What happens when three grown people in the same house log into a chat room to, well, chat.

Menopause: The Blog Post

Warning: The title should have already put off the weak, the scared, and the male. Anyone else that sticks around is definitely a glutton for punishment, or engaging in that nasty little brand of schadenfreude that revels in other people's misery.

Which one are you?

There was a time when I would have laughed at older women in my life, had they been as open about this fascinating phase of their lives as I'm about to be. There's still time to go read about Paris, instead.

Inexplicably, you are still here, reading, no less. Well, welcome to my nightmare. And a nightmare it is. I haven't slept through the night in a couple of years. It has resulted in some really weird dreams, let me tell you. Not as weird as Vicky's recent dream involving a moose, my van, and a dead pedestrian, but pretty darn close.

The dreams, however, are not as bad as the night sweats. Sounds disgusting, huh? You have no idea. Waking up in a pool of sweat is no fun. I confuse the husband by sleeping at the foot of the bed, like a puppy, because it's cooler there. Go figure. If anyone ever catches me panting with my tongue out, walk me, or slap me back into my senses.

There are other indignities that I will spare you here, but I assure you, I already went through puberty once, this second go round, blessedly without the acne, is no less emotionally challenging. Teenage angst and middle age angst are kissing cousins. Instead of yelling at my parents, I yell at my teenagers.

There's actually a certain amount of satisfaction in that, although I've lately noticed the conspiratorial glances exchanged when I go over the top and ground a kid until 2037 for not folding the socks properly, but hey, I figure I have to give them something to tell their therapists one day.

The consolation that this, too, shall pass is no consolation at all. Maybe it has something to do with the misnomer--I mean, meno-pause? I'm not liking these "pauses." I need it to end. Definitely. Permanently. And now.

I'm thinking, everybody who lives with me is thinking the same thing, times 10.

coffee obsession? um, what's the name of the blog?

So, in an admittedly weird move, I am posting a link to MY MOST FAVORITEST COFFEE SHOP ever, the Kaiteur Coffee House, just around the corner from where we live. Yes, a real frou-frou coffee place, that get this, actually has human beings that work there and engage you in live conversation of the congenial kind. They even get your name right.

Yummy.

So here's an invitation to join me for coffee there. Unfortunately, most of you who read this are, like, 700 miles away, but I know of one very local coffee drinking friend of the bestest kind who will let me buy her a cup.

Achito? Mace?

Mace Windu, bad-ass with a purple light saber.

Achito, dumb-ass silly-goose with a Treo.

I LOVE YOU ACHI! ! !

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looks sexy--don't forget the sunscreen!

Another post?

Told ya it was a lazy Saturday, and if you read my previous post on editing my novel, you'll recognize this as some more avoidance.

Anyway, read this brief article about J.K. Rowling, who reveals she changed the last word of the series. For years it's been reported that the last word was going to be "scar." She says she changed it.

I'm declaring here, publicly, that I bet it's gonna be LOVE.

Betcha. It's what I'd do, only what do I know...she's the gazillionaire, and I won't edit my damn novel.

A Neil Sedaka morning

I'm listening to Neil Sedaka's Laughter in the Rain from Rhapsody, which is no big secret, but some of you may want to check it out, so here's the link. It's The Definitive Collection, so go figure that it's another name for Greatest Hits. It's perfect for my current mood.

It's kind of rainy this morning, enough to keep us indoors and avoiding yardwork (aw, gee, see the disappointment?), so instead, He-Man went to get bagels, and after loading up on the tasty treats, we've settled into a lazy Saturday. That means nobody is doing anything signficant.

Except me. I still have to cook tonight. Oh, and Chrsity is baby-sitting. That kid is racking up the bucks. I should start moonlighting.

And then, there's the ubiquitous laundry. Gah!

But first, let me point you guys in a diiferent direction today. A couple of months ago, it seems, I got this random twitter invitation from someone I didn't know, and checked him out. He goes by JazzyChad, and he's got an absolutely BRILLIANT project going on at http://www.twittermosaic.com/. It is awesome. He has taken all his friends and followers and made all kinds of really cool mosaics from the pictures people use for their accounts. There's even a link to the mosaic software, so I might give it a try this weekend. In the small world of six degrees of separation, it turns out that Vicky knows the guy from the band. How weird/funny is that? Small world. Which, by the way, is the latest mosaic.

Click on the mosaic and it will take you to his awesome site.

Avoidance post # 247

I'm supposed to be editing Darknet. Please, don't anybody hold your breath. Instead, I first looked up "avoidance" on-line, and now I am going to share with you what I have found:

In avoidance, we simply find ways of avoiding having to face uncomfortable
situations, things or activities. ... Avoidance may include removing oneself
physically from a situation. It may also involve finding ways not to discuss or
even think about the topic in question.

Well, I suppose I'm doing that quite well.

Then, it says:

Avoidance is a simple way of coping by not having to cope. ... According to
the dynamic theory, avoidance is a major defense mechanism in phobias. Procrastination is another form of avoidance where we put off to tomorrow those things that we can avoid today.

Oh. So I'm afraid of finishing. That must be it. You might like it. Hmmm. You might hate it. You might think it is stupid, and poorly researched, and boring, and an awful story. You might think I'm stupid. Or a hack!

OMG! ! ! I'm having a panic attack. Must. Breathe. Deeply.

Yeah, thanks for stepping inside my head today.

We'll resume regular programming tomorrow.

note: you may check out the link to today's neurosis information here.

Here are Frick and Frack

I have to ask, why is it that the male of the species is always prettier? Unfortunately, it has resulted in some extreme make-overs, notably, what some crazy Southern women do to achieve big hair and colorful coloring.
Well, does anybody think Disney modeled Ursula after Divine? I'm just sayin'.

OK, that's it. Clearly, this blog wins the random tangent award. Maybe you'll have clarity tomorrow.

The Break-up is Final

Splish will have nothing more to do with Splaish. In fact, she won't return his phone calls, answer his mail, or even whisper his name. It's over.

She has now bonded with the little blue shark that leans against the No Fishing sign in her tank. Frankly, the shark is not her type, but he treats her well.

Meanwhile, He-who-shall-no-longer-be-named seems to be withering away in all that room. We think that he's been running through the garish plastic plants and scratching his fins. What a goober. Serves him right, I say.

I think he's just a confirmed bachelor. Isn't that code for something else?

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Stay tuned for the continuing Chronicles of Splaish and Splish.

Crazy Monday

Registration today--who knows when I'll get out of here, hopefully, alive.

As you know, Jaime was ordained this weekemd. Check out my Monday Musings over at Rosary Army for some of my thoughts.

The Chronicles of Splaish and Splish

In this chapter, an intervention, isolation, and adoption:

Splaish has adapted to his new environs swimmingly well. In fact, that's what he does, a lot of swimming. Up and down and around and around. He seems to favor a little coral cave, but is also fascinated by the garishly green plastic kelp. Did I say garish? There's nothing natural about those colors, especially the gravel. Somehow, though, the total effect is quite colorful and inviting to the eyes.

The instructions for this new tank stipulate that one is to turn on the light only when "enjoying the fish." As this one has no enjoyment in pets, it became a curiosity to discover what this means. After spending 15 minutes watching the fish swim up and down the tank, I was beginning to think he was also watching me. It was a very weird moment, but there you have it. Evidently I was enjoying the fish, and he, me, because I turned off the light and went back to the interminable laundry.

Eventually Princess Neptune arrived with her little fish net, a striking number in the same blue as Splaish, and introduced the girlfriend, Splish, into the tank.

It was a very chilly reception.

The rest of the day I didn't so much enjoy the fish as watch in mortification as they play a game of chase around the tank. Since I have a life, I didn't enjoy them very much, and definitely without the lights. Eventually, however, their owner arrived and proceeded to enjoy the fish.

There was no real enjoyment going on. You see, Splaish seems to have some anger management problems. Apparently, we failed to see the "doesn't play well with others" designation. Let's just say he's not on anyone's favorite's list today.

He attacked Splish. The bastard.

The handy dandy net was immediately commissioned to rescue Splish from that dastardly domestic violence perpetrator, and she was removed to the safe environs of the smaller tank. I adopted her on the spot. That Splaish is a bully, and I shall have nothing more to do with him.

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Stay tuned for the continuing serialization of the The Chronicles of Splaish and Splish.