Omelet of Your Choice

Sometimes when I'm at a social gathering, I will try to get people to talk about a word-subject that normally wouldn't be discussed in a party atmosphere. Part of the reason that I do this is that I am rarely comfortable in large groups where conversation is limited to surface subjects like the weather...
i.e. "boy, it's gonna be another hot one today"...or..."my grass is suffering big time with this crazy weather"...or.."gosh the Reds are blowing it again this year..yup, yup, yup."

So, I position myself with a few women who will talk about most anything.
Try it..
SHOES....
just ask how many pairs of shoes a woman has in her closet..and that's good for an invigorating 45 minutes and will endure sometimes until people are in the driveway, boarding their chariot to head home.
i.e...."now you've got me thinking..I'm going to go home and count those shoes and let's all email each other with a total count..should we include clogs? sandles? swim shoes?...in fact, we can have a little wager to see who has the most...and no, you can't count anything over 45 yars old".....

Most recently I tried the word "omelet" on a group of un-suspecting victims.
By the way...for novices at this..any food item is always good as a subject.

First we started with the spelling of the word as both "omelette" and "omelet" are acceptable. (there will usually be ONE stickler in the group who will knock down their Great-grandmother to find a dictionery to read the correct spelling and definition of the topic word.)
Sometimes that is followed by the origin of the theme word. When this happens, I know the party will be short-lived for me.

After the spelling lesson, the "meat" of the discussion leans from various choices of ingredients in the creation to "My Mother used to make it with......" (any time cooking is mentioned, Moms are always brought into the conversation)

With omelets, one can put ANYTHING in them and call it an elegant cooking title....
I accidentally burned an omelet with raisins, peanut butter and coconuts in it and I called it "Flambe' Surprise" (of course someone had to look up the spelling of "flambe'"...)

Food can be an emotional subject for some...and when people start to raise their voices, I know we're in for a good old-fashioned knock-down-drag-out argument...er..."discussion"...and that usually centers around the voting for which restaurant serves the best omelet.
I've seen people nearly come to blows over whether the cook at The Waffle House in West Chester cheats and uses 3 eggs instead of the menu claim of just TWO to make them fluffier than Richard Simmons' walk.
"Maybe he puts a secret ingredient in the blender to make them that "airy"...who knows whether he puts something in them that could be bad for us!"
"Waffle House isn't a restaurant, it's a Grease House and ...it should be dis-qualified."

As for me, I sit back and listen to the rantings and ravings of what I have instigated...in-depth conversation about brown eggs vs. white..cage-free vs. organic, whether dairy is good for us, etc.....and I could care less.
I've managed to insite a near riot and the party now has a little spark.

AND I can just rely on getting my weather and sports results from the News at 11....

Shipping expedited in 8 short weeks

I am perplexed.
I have ordered many, many, many....well, let's just say a multitude, a plethora, an over-abundance of products through catalogs and over the world wide web.
As many items that I have ordered, I have never been able to understand the shipping rates and delivery times.

Usually, the supplier realizes that some buyers need the commodity quickly...and we all seem to be in the "I-want-it-now" mode of operation.
So, the company offers "Express shipping options"....either overnight or 2nd day delivery for a small fortune ~ in fact, sometimes the shipping costs are more than the item itself.

Now, for me, in most cases, the product I am purchasing is NOT needed (but maybe WANTED) immediately. I have done without this magic super-speed-chop-anything-not-moving food processor for an entire 55 years...yet if I don't choose express shipping they tell me it will be delivered in 8-10 weeks.

WHAT?? So, what do they do? Do they ship the ready-made products "Express" and when you request just "normal" shipping, they start to build it one bolt at a time?
Or sew it one stitch at a time?

This just occured with my latest purchase of a couple of bras. The total bill was $35.00. "Express" shipping would be $19.50 and would arrive within 3 days.
"Normal" shipping would be $6.50 and arrive in 4-6 weeks.
Do they just SIT on the order and send it the same way as "Express" only wait 4 weeks?
Shoot, by then I may have experienced a bit more of "the droop" and need another size!

I guess this is one of the reasons Wal-Mart and Target will stay in business a while.

Although I must say, the last time I ordered a product that was SUPPOSED to arrive in 4-6 weeks, was delivered 3 days later.

Have we learned any lessons, class?

T-SHIRTS

Please...if you go on vacation to this wonderful paradise of a location, DON'T bring me back a t-shirt with the name of this utopia on it.
I DIDN'T GO...I WASN'T THERE!

Why do people do that? If they want to bring back a t-shirt...or mug or pen or refrigerator magnet with the vacation spot name etched on it, why don't they keep it for themselves?
I have ZERO motivation to be wearing a t-shirt with the name of a place that I ~

A) Haven't been to
B) have no wonderful memories of
C) Don't know how to get there
D) Can't afford to go
E) Probably have no desire to go to

Years ago, I would see little babies wearing a colorful t-shirt that said "My parents went to Florida and all they bought me was this silly t-shirt."
Now the updated version of that is: "One of my four divorced parents went on a European cruise and all they brought my Nanny was a rolex watch."

And a gift of a miniture outhouse or refrigerator magnet with a clever saying is arguably worse.

Maybe when you go on a vacation while your friends and family are back home working and baby-sitting your children and pets, you should just give them a piggy bank and encourage them to save for a similar trip.

And please, no writing on the bank like, "Ireland or bust"

and could you slip a 20-spot in there while you're at it?

Bowling is NOT my cup of tea

Is BOWLING really a sport?
I will bet that if you line up 300 people, MAYBE one person could name a bowler who has won a PBA tournament.
It isn't an Olympic Sport.
It is rarely on TV and that happens only when a lonely cable station had The Frying Pig Chef cancel his 345th ranked show to go play putt-putt.

Why is it that almost everyone has tried bowling but rarely do people do it for an extended period of timee.

I believe it is because there are a multitude of reasons, not the least of which is the dress code.

1) Clown shoes. Now come on...have you ever seen a pretty pair of bowling shoes?
NO ONE wants to rent those 25 year old foot cradles. The diseases harboring inside a bowling rental shoe could destroy the most wholesome cheerleading squad this side of Bar Harbor. The bacteria is just lying in wait for the annual visit from bored teenagers who have nothing else to do but hit the lanes.

2) Bowling shirt with obnoxious name. Does ANYONE look good in a bowling shirt?
They haven't changed since bowling began in the 1800's.
And once you have your silly team name embroidered on the shirt with your nick-name splashed even bigger, can you go dancing in that shirt?
How can "Pin-Head" play on the team of "Up Your Alley" sober?

3) The ball....with the 3 holes drilled in this 14 pound sphere, one can and does break fingernails on a regular basis. All bowling alleys would do well to have a nail salon next to the bar. And don't forget to have an orthopedic surgeon on call to Doctor the torn rotator cuff injuries.

Someone just tapped me on the shoulder asking me why I appear to have anger "issues" with bowling.....

I swear it is NOT because I was kicked off our bowling team when,for the third year in a row, I averaged 86.

I can improve on that!

I'm a card-carrying member of the National Association of Improving Anything Committee.
I look at almost anything and my brain goes to how I can improve on that situation.
It's almost an obsession.

I see the cashier at a store scan an item and I want to tell her how she could scan it faster and more efficiently. Then I picture an elaborate awards ceremony in front of all the cashiers in the world....and I am being honored as Super-Employee of the Century.
I give a thankful wave to the standing ovation.

I see a talk show host interviewing a guest and I think of 14 questions that are much more interesting and phrased better...and then I picture myself accepting an Emmy for my efforts. Of course I have a list of who I would thank, including the famous designer of my award-winning dress.

When I see a lawn being mowed, I picture it mowed in an artistic design that could be featured on the cover of "Lawn Beautiful" (and naturally, my little picture is in the corner of the page.)

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture.

Now I am going to go read the newspaper and mentally re-write the incomplete stories that are not answering the who, what, when, where, why and how questions.
But I won't have much time as I need to get dressed for some awards ceremony that I'm sure I am being honored at later today. Whoops..I just checked the calendar.
No special dinner tonight.
Just a late afternoon dentist appointment.
I NEVER criticize..er..I mean "give suggestions" to someone with a drill in their hand!

Fascinating TV Trivia

Who was the first TV couple to be shown sharing the same bed?
...drum roll...
Fred & Wilma Flintstone!...

I'm wondering if it's because they were a little "boulder"?

Sorry...I just wanted to "rock" your world...
MAYBE "Pebbles" would have appreciated these puns, I think.

and No, I am NOT "stoned"....just trying to "cement" my relationship with other pun-bloggers...

My Dad was good at these...my brother was better...but then again he was a "chip" off the ole "Block"...

I do apologize for these bad attempts...I WOULD call each and every one of you in person, but I have a cold and my throat is a bit "gravely".

Maybe I'll go do something constructive

Maybe watch re-runs of The Jetsons to see what my future holds.

Future Events

If we paid attention to every media announcement of important dates, we would have to carry 19 calendars or blow out the memory chip in our PDAs....

I just read the new TV fall line-up of shows....and I haven't even finished watching the hysterics of May sweeps yet!

*Do I know who is going to be killed on Wysteria/Hysteria Lane?
*And which housewife is so desperate that she'll pop a cork and do something even more bizarro than previous episodes to get her axed?
*Who knows yet which crooner will cry as they are crowned "OUR" 2006 American Idol?
(they mention the "crown" thing but I've never actually seen the actual head piece with points..have you?)

I haven't had the joy of watching the re-runs yet of Will & Grace..and I'm still reeling over the drama and suspense of who won American Inventor ~ and they're asking me to care about the FALL line-up???

Why does the media think we really CARE about what is going to be on TV in another 120 days? It's bad enough that the networks are addicted and committed to changing the current stellar shows ~ and fuss with the line-up ~ and switch the times when the shows are IN session...
why would we give a crow's beak about the POSSIBILITY that Brad Garrett may be in a sit-com in September?

I'm surprised they didn't announce those ever-popular Marie Osmond Christmas specials.

My point (yes, I have one) is that today must have been a slow news day.
The newspaper even announced in a much-too-big-for-the-story article, that former President Clinton is GOING to write a book..and that it MIGHT be published in late 2007 or early 2008.
No title...just some vague reference to his "people experiences"...
SO ~ let me understand this...someone gets press credit for doing something in 18-24 months...with not even a word written yet. And his FIRST book didn't even do well!

Who wouldn't want to report on these fascinating supposedly "entertainment" crystal ball predictions?

I'm going to try to find some REAL news now...I think I heard the mail-carrier drop off the mail....and my subscription to the National Enquirer is due any day. Maybe I'll get to read something interesting after all.
One can only hope.

POWER

I'm sure we all have our own definitions of "power". Today I witnessed a classic view of the "power of salesmanship"....

I had attended a 2 hour "FREE" E-Bay class two days ago and received some very valuable information. I was also offered the chance to buy a web site that was so easy to build, a chimpanzee could do it (yes, they said that)
I need a web site (for something, I'm sure..I just have to think of it) ~ so I bought it for $99.00. To receive the software that I needed to launch the web site, I was "strongly encouraged" to attend an invaluable "training" session (I wonder how much classroom training the monkey needed?). So, I was invited back for a 4 hour class to receive even MORE "FREE" information to learn how this software would allow me to become an entrepeneur and work out of my home in my underwear (yes, they said that too) and make thousands of dollars a day.

WHO doesn't want that?

The three fellows who checked me in and gave me my name tag were sooooo very nice and gracious, I just wanted to take them all out to the movies and maybe some salsa dancing later. They laughed and kidded with all the attendees. Wow.."are they nice to come her and give free seminars...must cost them a bunch since they put full page ads in the newspaper and flew these 3 fellas in from all over the country...they must be independantly wealthy...aren't they nice??

I learned that anyone can sell anything on E-Bay so I too, could do the same.

Here are some examples:
$28,000 was made from selling a five year old grilled cheeses sandwhich with what was supposed to look like the Madonna's picture ingrained in the bread.
(maybe it was a prop for the DaVinci code?)

$1,000 for a "Mystery box"...turned out to be a pile of belongings that were once owned by a wayward husband ~ thus the seller (the wife) felt someone else might appreciate them more (and she might find some income that her husband couldn't provide for her.)

Money ~ and lots of it! The seller is getting $39.95 for "cow pie clocks".
Yes, some farmer takes the cow-pies and hollows out a hole for the clock and sells them...lots of them. I guess one can sell crap on E-Bay.

Here's a touching story - $180+ for a little girl who lost her first tooth...I mean REALLY lost her first tooth and she was upset that the "tooth fairy" wouldn't come so she was pleading her case on E-Bay to allow the highest bidder to play the role of "tooth fairy" for a day. Some sap paid over $180 for that "opportunity". (Wonder if this little girl accepts Mastercard)

E-Bay is purported to be the second largest "employer" in the world if you look at all the people who rely on them for their income. There are 100,000 NEW passwords distributed by E-Bay for new users every day. Each SECOND there are over $1,000 in transactions.

But less than 30% of products listed are bought. The unlucky seller still pays E-Bay a listing fee.

So, back to my "FREE" seminar. At the end of the 4 hours, the 26 people in the room were all asked to spend $2995 on three programs we HAD to invest in if we ever wanted to succeed in making any of our dreams come true. We should do this for ourselves and of course, for our family. We ALL deserved it. (I'm not sure about the guy with the odd odor sitting next to me)

They even held out on giving us our $99.00 software until the whole session was over and people stopped sobbing because they couldn't "afford" the $2995 to make all their dreams come true.

They held the power...they told us we needed to do something to get what we wanted..they told us if we didn't do something we would regret it. They had us just where they wanted us.

When I got up to finally get my software, two of the formerly over-friendly fellas approached me with hope in their eyes and a mercedes car payment in their minds.
BUT ~ when I told them I just wanted my software and not the other "overly generous "TODAY-ONLY offferings", you would have thought I was asking them to room with Richard Hatch in prison.
They turned on me like Simon Cowell to the latest American Idol contestant. I was discarded...trash....

But guess what?

I had the "power"

E-Bay Madness

Have you ever bought anything on E-Bay?
I remember the thrill of the first auction that I "won".
I wanted to purchase a radio remote controlled 3 foot sailboat for my Dad to race in his swimming pool. He had recently moved to Florida and didn't know a lot of people and I thought this would be good to keep him entertained.

I sat at the computer at 8 p.m. and complied with the tedious task of registering on E-Bay for the first time....I then sat back and was prepared to calmly enjoy my first internet auction bidding experience.
Over the next three hours, there were a couple of weeny bids on my item here and there atttempting to scare me. But I was confident.
Bidding started at $4.00. I placed my ceiling bid at $11.00 hoping I would get it for a lot less. This was going to be a piece of cake.

About 10 minutes left in the bidding, I saw the bidding go from $4.00 to $5.00 to $6.00 to $11.00! I sat up closer in my chair...I "upped" my bid.
But $15.00 was as high as I was going to go.
The bidding war continued to escalate.

With 5 minutes left at 11:55 at night, the bid was $32.50 and I had changed my bid 12 times and was now sweating worse than Martha Stewart in court.
So emersed in this battle was I that I knew that I HAD TO WIN AT ALL COSTS...the seller noted in his descripton that this was the only boat he had for sale! What would Dad DO without this remote controlled toy!
NO one was going to out-bid me!

I decided to raise my bid for the 8th time in 180 minutes.
$67.50 and that was my final offer with 1 minute remaining. I KNEW I had it won and I was imaging the fun Dad would have with...what? Wait!.......30 seconds left and someone out-bid me! I hurridly banged away at the keys and plugged in the FINAL-FINAL bid of $88.80.

My heart was thumping like a hound-dog's tail on rabbit huntin'day. (good gracious! where the heck did THAT come from??)
$79.50 and I WON!! I jumped up and down like a 10 year old on a new pogo stick! I screamed like I had just slapped hands with Howie Mandell on Deal or No Deal!
Obviously, the celebration dance awaked my slumbering Father.
He sleepily asked if I had looked up the model's price on the internet from a retailer's web site.
Good idea.

or was it?

OK..so ANYONE can get caught up in this auction-action, right?
So what if I could have bought 7 brand new radio remote-controlled sail boats for Dad and his new friends. What's the big deal?

The next night I looked on E-Bay for the same item. The same seller had another one up for sale. Only this time, he only got $10.50 for it.

Must have had something wrong with it.

Happy Mothers Day

A tribute to MY Mom...even though she has been "promoted" for a few years now. It doesn't diminish the effect that she still has on my life.

I want to thank her for the stuff I don't remember ever thanking her for.

For finally giving me the secret ingredient to her Meatloaf so mine is better than Brian's. ( on the other hand I DO thank her for teaching Brian how to make the best home-made french fries this side of Wendy's.)

For writing to me in college, (in LONG HAND YET!) 5 pages of perfect penmanship, recapping the 3 Soap Operas that she had gotten me hooked on. There were notes in the margin explaining when the organ music played a sinister effect. Since most of the gals on my floor section were getting As The World Turns withdrawal, I made lots of friends through those letters as we all huddled around making comments of advice to the TV characters (like they were right there), laughing and bonding.

Then there were the goofy audio tapes that we mailed back and forth when I was living near Boston and commuting by car 55 minutes each day to Rhode Island for my job. Again, I got my soap updates but she would also pretend to be a newscaster to "report the latest on the home front". (Can you tell communication was a big deal in our family?) Oh, how I valued those little tapes!

Mom was always in a good mood in the morning. I would say that she showed us how to start the day off right by saying a cheery "Good Morning" even if we felt like Brooke Shields after listening to the rantings of Tom Cruise.

She had this positive way about her. Every time she saw somebody, she would compliment them on something specific. She told me once that you shouldn't dole out general comments like, "You look nice today." but that it should be specific, like "you look great in that color green ~ it shows off your pretty tongue after having too many mint julips."

Mom taught me how to make games out of completing chores so it didn't seem so awful.
We would whistle during washing the dishes, playing "name that tune" to guess the song in the least number of notes.

She also trained me (in no uncertain terms) that bad language or throwing of any golf club was NOT to be tolerated. Lots more people wanted to play golf with me once I learned THAT lesson.

She would ask us "Please don't give me flowers and compliments when I'm gone, do it while I'm alive"...and I hope I did.

I remember going with Mom to The Vineyard Church in Columbus and thoroughly enjoying the whole experience. As the music played, I looked over through misty eyes and saw her crying. There we were, holding hands and dropping tears on the chairs in front of us. She taught me that crying was ok too..which is good as I blow my nose for the 17th time.

I love you, Mom. (Wish we could shopping at Kohl's today!

Hugs 101

One of my favorite female motivational speakers is Rita Davenport, from Tennessee. She has good down-home humor and she "tells it like it is".
She tells people that "you need three hugs a day or you get weird."

She also tries to discourage people from being so self-centered by asking them to write on a piece of paper, their worst problem that they are dealing with..then she asks them to come up to the front of the room and everyone put their problem in a bowl. On the count of three, everyone is supposed to come back up and pick out of that bowl someone's else's problem. Who would do that? Everyone has their own "crap" to deal with.

Now, back to the hugs. Three hugs a day will help? Yup. But do we do it enough?

There are so many different types of hugs...
There is what I think is the most popular hug...if you can call it a "hug"...
It is really the "1/4 hug"... standing beside someone with one arm casually flopped around a shoulder as if to say, "OK, I kinda like you but hugging isn't my thing-hug"

One step better in the hugging chain is FACING the victim, er...PERSON and hugging with one limp arm around them but not enough energy to crank the other arm up there to join in the hugging.

Then there is the "grasping huggee with just your hands on their shoulders while barely leaning into them with your strained neck and head as if to say, "I REALLY don't want to hug you but SOME contact is expected..UGH."

Now we're getting to "whole hugs'...full embrace...BUT
1) the "quick release"....with a patronizing pat-pat-pat on the back..."we're just buddies, don't think we're dating-hug"
2) Full hug for 3 seconds....nice...I think this is good-hug
3) Full hug for 8 seconds...this can go either "Right on!..they like me..they really like me" or WHOOPS...I should have told them they had nice eyes.

Best hugs...a 13 year-old nephew, slamming himself against me to give me the "wrestlers squeeze" after not seeing me for 5 months...a 5 year old nephew who races to me from across the room to throw the little arms around me with unbridled enthusism to say good-night...and his little 1 year old brother lifting his tiny arms up to get picked up as he lays his perfect head on my chest.

I'd take three of those hugs any day. I have no problems right then.

Trapped Negative "Chi" -

I feel like maybe I have some trapped negative "chi" (Energy)...and it may be draining my energy and if MY energy is drained, everyone in the universe has drained energy! At least this is the latest theory from a movie called "What The Bleep Do I Know?"

I am thinking of just holing up in my basement and reading about various therapies and modalities that will turn my "chi" around to be positive so I can have a Calm and Happy life.

One of the first books I will read is about Feng Shui as it offers 168 ways to correct unlucky areas in my home and offers solutions to maximize the potential to bring success, happiness, harmony and peace to me. Hint #121 suggests putting a water bowl near the dividing wall or fence to absorb sound from noisy neighbors.
I see water bowls in dog boarding facilities but that is one of the noisiset places I've ever been..

Maybe prisons will buy this book. Or zoos?

I could try Reiki or Ayurveda but I can't pronounce them. I know one person who is a "reiki master" who is about as looney as Paula Abdul.

Maybe to find my happiness I should look to tai chi but all the pictures of people tai-chi-ing look like they are washing their cars in slow motion.
SO GO WASH A CAR..DO SOMETHING CONSTRUCTIVE, for heavens sake! NO wonder they don't look happy...their friends and family are boycotting hanging out with them because they never DO anything except contemplatte their naval!
And they are NEVER smiling (then again, who does when they wash an invisible vehicle?) I can't picture people who attend this class being the type to want to go see any of WIll Farrell's movies or stay up late to roll on the floor laughing at David Letterman's TOP TEN.

Lately I've heard about WATSU...a combination of massaging accupressure points in 96 degree water. A WATSU therapist holds you as you float in the water and they manipulate you and stretch you and massage you until you have no more money. The cost of this is $150/hour at spas. That may not be a therapy I want to try but I could be the therapist for that amount of dough!
Heck, that would sure release a lot of MY tension!

I think I'll just go read my horror-scope and see what it tells me I'm supposed to do today to be happy, become rish and famous, and find true love.

OR....I'll go wash my car...or meditate...anything but laugh, for pity sake!

And What Do YOU Do For a Living?

I wonder what David Blaine tells people when asked what his occupation is.

"I hold my breath until my liver turns to mush"
"I sit in a block of ice until my eyelids freeze closed"
"I see how I can get prime time network coverage to zoom in on my battered body as I wince in pain and reach out with my weakened hand to my fans"
"I sell David Blaine playing cards on my website"

I read that his Mother was a single parent raising this kid and working 3 jobs while her little darling spent his days at the library. Was he looking up the definition of "Gullible"? or "Marketing"?


I have never watched this nutball attempt these high school stunts. Actually, I am really rather disappointed in any news agency or network giving a molecue of time to this kind of alien craziness.

But, considering Baywatch and Fresh Prince of Bellaire and still in re-runs...I guess people will watch anything.

I remember when my older brother was in high school, he sat on one skate board while another friend sat on another skate board. They acted like a circus act by having 6 other guys climb on their shoulders and balancing precariously, they skated down the steepest hill on Ohio State's campus. They were trying to break some record at the time. A record wasn't broken but I believe two of the guys broke a bone or two.
No one even took a picture. I guess death was not imminent.

What about all the fun in cramming 23 people in a volkswagon? Or 21 in a phone booth? Now THAT'S entertainment! I would buy a tube of toothpaste from a sponsor of THAT kind of show!

Hmmmm...I've been on the internet now for 38 hours, 22 minutes+....I wonder how much longer I have to blog to win the Guinness Book of World Records or at least get David Letterman's staff out here to watch me type!

I Don't Trust That Slot

There are all kinds of slots..and they are everywhere.

A Night bank depository slot ~
The video return slot ~
A Drive-up library book return slot ~
Those Post Office blue box slots that accepts letters...of a minimal size ~
The counter-top Charity plexi-glass boxes that have a such a tiny slot, dimes are the only currency that can wiggle it's way into the receptacle ~
And let's not forget the charm and romance of the evil one-arm-bandit slot machine that has fulfilled dreams on occasion but bankrupted many more.

To say an overused phrase: "If we can put a man on the moon.....why can't we______
(fill in the blank)...MAKE A SLOT THAT ACTUALLY WORKS WITHOUT AGGRAVATION!

The night-time bank depository slot is tighter than Jack LaLaine's 1962 t-shirt, and the little tiny envelope that is SUPPOSED to fit in that miniscule slot, will surely be destroyed by the slot monster eating the deposit and chewing it into cracker-crumb pieces.

Now the Video return and library book drive-up slots are so ridiculously small, one has to have not one, not two ~ but THREE hands to manage the weight of the slot mouth that will surely slam shut with hungar before you have slid your 12 videos or 15 books safely inside. (Who ever rents or borrows just ONE video or book?)

Do the engineers of these slots not live in our same galaxy?

And forget the Postal recepticles. I always have an over-sized package or envelope that is just outside the regulation measurements for me to use their "handy slot" for mail. I then have to wait in line for 46 minutes to hand the non-conforming envelope over to a Federal Employee who makes $27.00/hour to turn around and throw it into their container...that just so happens to have been designed to accomodate a package as big as an outhouse.

My only slot I like...the slot machine in my basement that I can adjust to pay-off big time....even if it is look-a-like quarters.

Hmmm..now that I think about it, even those coins get stuck now and then.

Maybe I'll come back in my next life as a slot designer...or the TV show American Inventor will see this blog (yeah, right) and someone will deliver a Jetson-type device to automate this problem.

Crud! I just returned home from trying to buy a USA Today newspaper..my 75 cents got eaten by the coin-mech slot and no newspaper! See what I mean?

The WORST Travel Game!

I can remember my parents suggesting all kinds of travel games to play in the car to keep my brother and me from being bored. Apparently Mom and Dad didn't care for the kicking of the seat or the "quit touching me"..."I'm not touching you"..and of course the every day good ole stand-bys -"I have to pee"....and..."how much longer 'till we get there?"

When we were kept busy looking for various State license plates or finding signs with the a-z alphabet letters in them, we forgot we were bored ~ at least for 15 minutes!

However..some games are not to be played...especially with adults.
A friend of mine (age 55) and one of her equally ancient friends recently made a trip to Gatlinburg (about 6 hours) and her friend suggested they play a game to pass the time. (Conversation must be over-rated by some)

The game was...stay with me now....to try to find the numbers 1 through 100 on signs and license plates....in order. The numbers had to be in order within the license plate or sign..i.e. license plate has 14236...if they were looking for 23..it is within the license plate and in the correct order.
(This would drive my 38 year-old OCD nephew WILD)

They started this lovely game at 10 a.m...arrived in Gatlingburg (aka World's Largest Gargage Sale) at 4:15 p.m. and they were only at the number 34!

My friend was so "over" playing this game that she was about ready to scream.
It seemed as though any time they started discussing a somewhat interesting topic, the soon-to-be-ex traveling companion would scream "there!...there!! Number 12! Write that down!!" She would get so excited, she would nearly drive off the side of the road.

It seems as though playing the game TO Gatlinburg wasn't enough for Ms. Drive-by-numbers woman. She insisted they try to attain the game goal of 100 before reaching the Ohio border on their return! She claims it hadn't been done in less than 9 hours by anyone east of Alaska or some fool "made-up" story. Maybe she was hoping to submit thie accomplished feat to the "Guinness Book of World Records"
(Although someone would have to had been drinking a lot of the Guinness to appreciate this..don't 'cha think?)

All I know is that my poor friend has returned walking aimlessly with a dazed sort of far-a-way look in her eyes. She keeps mumbling "I'd rather play bingo..I'd rather play bingo."

Ah, to be a child again...sigh.....

Look at the Expecting Parents

Here are two of my favorite people.
My nephew Sean (he's the one with the goofy cap on bakcwards) and his wife, Annie-belle.
They are expecting a third child-like addition to their present family of four in just a few weeks.
5 year-old Griffin seems pretty excited to welcome his soon-to-be-born baby sister by showing her how to play Pac-Man and 1 year old Cooper is pretty excited...well...he's excited just to eat his breakfast and walk three steps into trouble.

It is so fun to anticipate another little set of tiny hands, feet, arms, legs, eyes, ears, etc. (I ran out of sets..and I've mis-placed my anatomy book)
Now please understand that there hasn't been a Murphy female born for 55 years.
There has been wonderful boy-children born but now is the time to think "pink".
I believe Annie has already received enough pink presents to start her own consignment shop called "Plenty of Pink".

There have been plenty of cute (and not so endearing) names for this already loved baby bantered about but the parents tell the "well-meaning-suggesters" that if they weren't in the room at conception, they don't get a vote.
I've tried bribing them with a trust fund for the little one (no, I'm not beyond bribery!) if they name her Margaret Mary Elizabeth Murphy because me, my Aunt, my Grandmother and my Greatgrandmother were all named Margaret Mary Murphy. I TOLD them they could CALL her whatever they want....Felicity or Brumhilda...whatever.

Of course, the 11 cameras (in case the first 10 malfunction)are already charged up
and ready to capture the little one complete her first yawn. I know she'll wink at me first and that may help with the trust fund issue.

But I'm just hoping I'll still be around to watch her beat Michelle Wie at the Women's U.S. Open Golf Tournament.

Whoops..that reminds me..the one thing I haven't bought her yet..her first (pink) golf glove!! Gotta go!

Who won the "Run for the Roses"?

Hey, did you see the Kentucky Derby?








Every year I make a "friendly wager" with a friend of mine as to the winner of the "most-watched-less-than-two-minutes-of-sports-event".

I read about all 20 of the horses. And I mean I poured over EVERYTHING I could get my hands on about this race for the red flower because after last year's horse-that-had-no-chance-in-purgatory win, one must take every horse as a serious contender.

I studied information about the owners, trainers, sires, madams, linament used, breakfast eaten, number of stitches in the saddle, etc. like I was cramming for a college final.
For the past week I labored so hard over the review of every fool statistic & odds prediction, that I had to make a quick trip to Walmart to get my EYE-glasses Rx increased.

I watched all the hokey interviews with everyone including the second-cousins of the neighbors of the horse's owners"...as well as the entire 4 hours of drawn-out coverage before the final race of the day at the "beautiful, magnificent, phenomenal, pefectly-manicured Churchill Downs."

I was so excited, I couldn't eat a thing but I was downing my favorite beverage (water..what else were YOU thinkin'?) at an Olympic record pace of 2 liters every 10 minutes.

Nature was calling and that's not one call you want to put "on-hold". I waited and waited because I didn't want to miss anything...the parade of the horses into the paddock...the mounting of the horses by the jockeys...the interviews (AGAIN for the 30th time) of the owners as they paraded (not nearly as well as the horses parade) to their respective viewing seats...
and I finally couldn't keep my "caller" waiting any longer...

I must have been too long in MY paddock.

I returned to my couch only in time to watch a woman with a microphone make a ridiculously poor attempt to interview the winning jockey, as both of them were bouncing up and down so much that I could barely interpet every 13th word!

I was stunned...almost in tears as I realized that I had missed the entire flippin' race!

I think that this is the last Kentucky Derby I will invest ANY time in.

The worse thing is..after all that, I owe Sue Blum 10 cents.

Run For The Roses.....Really?

Now, come on. I know there is a lot of hype about the Kentucky Derby and I've heard the famous phrase "Run for the Roses" 12,000 times. And at the end of the race, the photo opp shows the horse draped with a blanket of 2,456 roses.
First, I wonder if all the thorns have been removed.

Second and more importantly...does anyone really think the horse, the horse's owner, the trainer, or the jockey care one hoot about these roses? Does one of these afore-mentioned people dream about getting this horse and jockey adorned with this flower in the height of allergy season?

Who thought of this as a prize? Don't you think they are much more interested in the prize money? There is $2 MILLION dollars at stake here!! But I'm sure the horse and jockey are running their whipped butts off for a whiff of these enticing roses.

How do they get 20 horses to get that excited over this long stem thorny flower?

I hope they give them lots of Nasal spray...

and by the way..does anyone remember the last 3 winners of the Kentucky Derby and what the winning ticket paid out? Or is this race just a race for the mint julip?

I'm betting on the 4th horse...I like the name.

Now I am going to water my daisies..now THAT'S a flower worth racing for!

Earn a Degree at the Pool

I just returned from spending a month at Disneyworld for "mature" adults...and when I say "mature", I'm not talking emotionally ~ I'm talking OLD. One cannot buy property at The Villages near Orlando unless one is 55+ years.
(note: yes I am 55 but I am not mature!)

The Villages is an area that covers almost 30 square miles and has 50,000 active seniors riding around in golf carts and playing every game known to mankind.
As a resident there you have the honor of paying $125/month to have access to all the 1200 free weekly activities from softball to billiards to water volleyball to bingo to tennis and bocci ball and pickelball to air rifle to country line dancing to accessing some 32 restaurants that have REALLY Happy Hours!

There are 21 swimming pools...13 of them are strictly "ADULT ONLY"..and they are serious when they say ADULT...one has to be 30 years old to dangle their toe in those pools.
The 7 "family pools are for the youngins' visiting but there is a rule that no one under 21 can stay more than 3 weeks..(at the Villages, not the pool)

Since I was renting a condo (called a "villa" there...much classier I presume?)...I was considered a "resident" and had access to all the amenities. I took full advantage of the swimming pools and can now say I think I can apply to med school and be able to waive 90% of the classes and earn my M.D.

There are two kinds of adult pools...one either chooses to go to the "social" pool or the "exercise" pool and believe me, never the twain shall meet. I tried to swim a couple of laps in the social pool one day and a floating senior citizen sternly informed me in no uncertain terms that this pool was a social pool and if I wanted to exercise, I should paddle off to one of the exercise pools!

The "social"pools area where people hang out in their noodle floater chairs and talk, and talk and talk..and then you know what they do? They talk some more!
And the subject "du-jur" was ALWAYS health-oriented....operations...Doctor reviews and recommendations...what size tube was stuck where for what test...what medications have what side effects...what over-the-counter recipe is better for warts...what works best for sexual dysfunction..and then I got out of the pool.

I'm happier now dancing in the privacy of my home to Richard Simmons' "Jiggling to The Oldies"....I don't need an M.D. degree right now...just a few inches off my hips, thank you.

Strangest jobs

I just read that the Kentucky Derby is increasing their security for their horses.
I thought it meant that they were going to leave a night light on in their stall so they didn't get upset and suffer night-"mares" (get it? night-"Mares"?)

Or maybe they will provide an extra security blankey for them....

NOPE...
They are hiring full time attendants to stand by their stall !
Now how would you like THAT on your resume?

"And what do YOU do for a living?"

"I watch horses"...

I guess it's better than being paid to count cars to make sure the interection actually needs that traffic light...

or

Teaching yoga at a mens prison

or

"Corn-detassling"...yup..that really is a job. Feed corn has to reproduce by planting a male row of corn between two female rows. Someone gets to go up and downthose rows to de-tassle...

Aren't you glad you read this?

At least it was shorter than my other blogs!

Visiting Florida Weather Forecaster of the Year

I fell into the trap....
I crossed the Georgia border into Florida and I fell...
deep, deep, deep.

I just wanted to get away for a little while ~ away from the ringing phones, away from the 34 daily spam emails, away from the pressures of work, and the grind of keeping a showplace house-beautiful. I hadn't been feeling so great health-wise the last few weeks and I knew that going to SUNNY Florida would be just what the Doctor ordered.
(Actually, he didn't order it or I could have written off the whole trip from my taxes as a Prescription..darn it!)

Now..back to the big FALL into the proverbial trap...

I became...(oh, this is so hard to admit)..yes, I became...an obnoxious in-your-non-tanned-face perfect weather informer.

In the past, whenever I have spoken on the phone with a friend who has re-located from the north to the south, the first thing out of their mouth is the temperature and forecast. "It is a beautiful sun-shiny perfect 83.4 degrees with a slight gulf breeze that makes it perfect for boating, golfing, swimming, jogging, playing the flute outside, and tomorrow will even be better, if you can imagine!"
I have always wanted to hang up on such prattle, but manage to wait until I am off the phone to call them unsavory names.
I think that everyone who buys a home in Florida are required to take (and pass with honors) a meteorologist class.


So, back to me (MY favorite subject)....
As I was driving down south and realized that our car was in Lake City, Florida...I
uncontrollably spontaneously began to spew forth observations and predictions about the weather.

OK..then it really kicked in.
I bought an inside-outside thermometer before we even checked in to our rented condo.
When we arrived, I immediately called everyone north of Atlanta to leave annoying messages on their voice mail informing them of the incredible weather we were experiencing...and how they were NOT.

After we had been there 42 minutes and had unpacked most everything, I kicked into high "weather-alert" mode and drove to the nearest electronics store and purchased a $821. weather scanner so I could be Weather-Woman Informer Of The Year - knowing first hand the barometric pressure and the sea-worthiness of boating, etc. (we were staying 2 hours from either coast so boating was not in our plans)ok..this is all a lie and I hope know that....

I would awaken each morning with a job to do that I took very seriously, checking the thermometer, the scanner, the weather channels, the local and national paper's forecasts. (again, a fabrication)

There was even the time I completely lost my mind and called the USA Today and the CBS weather editors to inform them of their amateur errors in the forecast for Florida and that I would be happy to assist them for the next 3 weeks as a local weather correspondent.

I actually became so obsessed with this responsibility, that I was missing my swimming pool time....and trust me, there was no "Happy Hour" when I had to keep track of the possible cloud cover coming in two days.

I am now back at my Ohio home with no worries about the weather because I know the old saying "just wait 15 minutes and it will change"....I have cancelled my subscription to the monthly magazines, "Weather Forecasts Are US" and "Sunny Skies" because my time is being taken up with trying to lure some of my friends back who I annoyed.

Best Husband? Pediatrician?

Here I am - 55 an unmarried.
Maybe I should try this on-line dating service that boasts that they can get Kathy Griffin, Carrot-Top and Hannible Lecter a date...

But can they get ME a date?

When I think about the perfect mate, I think of an old boyfriend (yeah, by this time he is as old as I am)...and he became a PEDIATRICIAN.
Now when I dated him and we went to two high school proms together, he was barely out of diapers himself. (whoops..I don't mean he had a problem in that area, I was just trying to make a point that he had probably been in a Pediatrician's office just 4 years before we dated!)

Do you "freeze-frame" memories? It can be un-nerving...like, when you see a friend's child who was 6 the last time you saw him and now he is 22 and all that you can remember is seeing him swinging on the rope in his underwear over the pond in 1994?
Then you can't get over seeing that image in your mind's eye as you observe this now grown-up 6 yr-old bridegroom ready to take his wedding vows..whew!
That freeze-framing stuff can be really distracting!

So, back to my Pediatrician boyfriend...who is not..but anyway...
I freeze-frame a picture of John as he was in Latin class.
He wasn't anything like what I envision today a Pediatrician being, unless Pediatrician's hold their hand under their arm and squeeze violently to make funny noises..or hold pencil in their mouth and see if they can flip it in the air and catch it with their fingers. (Latin class was kinda relaxed. We had a substitute teacher most of the time as Sister Mary Sing-a-long was busy with the choral group a lot)

I freeze-frame John's nervousness and he gave me his first kiss..on the cheek.
I freeze-frame his goofy notes that he used to leave on my car where we both worked at the Ramada Inn kiddingly, asking me to marry him on July 4th.
I freeze-frame July 4th, coming out of work and having JUST MARRIED signs all over the decorated car and driving off hearing the 37 cans creating the biggest noise to be heard for miles.
I freeze-frame his humor, his wit, his gentleness and his love of life.
Ah, I guess he would have made a GREAT Pediatrician.

Do you think E-harmony.com has any Pediatricians?

Hmmm...the one I would probably get wouldn't take me to dinner and the theater.
Instead he may take me to see the movie, "Bambi" and give me a lollipop if I didn't talk during the show.

Back to the bars.....

Look the Other Way

My Mom always said, "Don't do anything that you would be ashamed of if it made headlines on tomorrow's newspaper's front page." That's a mouthful but I have always remembered it. I haven't always abided by it...

But I LOVE to judge others and want to race up to them with a copy of the morning paper with headlines on it to reflect their dastardly deed...

Example:
I witness a Mother literally dragging her 3 year old, hysterical, screaming child by a limp arm out the doors of a local grocery store.
"I NEED TO TEACH HER A LESSON", I think to myself.
I KNOW it is none of my business but I want to show her what COULD be HER headlines:
"Mother loses her mind and is thrown into jail for life for dislocating her innocent son's arm after he asked his Mother politely for a candy bar."
then when I would show the fantasy newspaper to the Mother. But wait..there is a twist to this fable...the Mother informs me that this "angel" raced up and down the aisles, arms flailing and knocking down 240 cans of dog food; then tried to STEAL 14 Snickers bars and proceeded to kick the manager as he attempted to calm the little rascal. The Mother continued to spew at me - This incident in the grocery was just one in a long line of fun happenings for her that day. By 9:14 a.m., her 5 month old had soiled the 4th outfit of the day; the dog had eaten Mom's new purse, along with her address book; and her 4 year-old had flushed the cat down their one and only toilet. The Vet and Plumber bills came to $368.54. Then she opened the mail to find she was being audited by the IRS for 3 years ago and thse records were accidentally destroyed by fire by ~ guess who? "angel-boy" ~ just two weeks ago. At that point, she decided to make a visit to the grocery's pharmacy to pick up her over-due anti-depressant medication when her "little darling" disrupted the shopping experience of those in the store.

I held up my hand to stop her from continuing and I managed to humbly whisper a "sorry 'bout your luck" and retreated back to my childless home that has white furniture that is used all the time ~ but still white...and 4 toilets that flush..no cats...and nice beds that are available for me to take a nap when I want.

I'm wondering if I missed the pearls of wisdom from Mom that suggested that I should mind my own business. New motto - "Their dog..their fleas"