No, this is not the promised post about my five memorable nights. Nor is it the promised post on my new job at the Casa de Insurance.

Sometimes, more frequently for some than for others, you have a moment when you think to yourself, "Really, isn't this more humiliation than a person should be expected to deal with?"

The following is a true story...

So I'm at work today, because it's Friday and because the vacation time I have available for the remainder of the year is dwindling, and because we need the income and the health insurance. It's a typical Friday at the Casa de Insurance. I'm working diligently at my new job, trying to formulate a response to a complaint that just won't go away. I'm tired. It's been a long week, and I haven't been sleeping well because... well... my husband's an idiot, but that's another story.

I go to the bathroom. This in itself is not an unusual occurrence.

I unzip. I sit down. I lean back and close my eyes for just a second because people, I am weary at this point in time...

And the toilet comes lose from the wall and crashes to the floor.

Thankfully (and surprisingly), water did not come spewing forth from the wall. Also thankfully, I was the only one in the bathroom at the time. I zipped up and ran.

The bathroom is now closed, and us ladies have to hike to the other end of the building right now if we need to go. The workman are in there now fixing it.

Did I tell anyone?

No, I did not.

And I'm not ashamed of this.

Working, working, working

Working (still) on the five memorable nights tag from Twyla.  Is it sad that I'm 37 years old and having this much trouble coming up with 5 nights of my life that seem worth writing about.  Hmmm...  I'm trying not to put too much thought into that.

 

Working on a post about the new job I have at the Casa de Insurance.

 

Working, working, working at the Casa de Insurance, because with this new job my hours have changed slightly, which means I'm getting home a little later in the day. 

 

BUT finally some good news...  yes, potty training news...  things seem to be looking up on that front, AND the preschool where the boy is enrolled is willing to work with him, at least for a few weeks, to see how things go.  The husband called them Monday to un-enroll the boy because of the potty training issue, and they said, "No don't do that!  The teacher he'll be with is wonderful!!  At least bring him for the first few weeks to see how things go, and if it's not working out you can pull him out for a while and bring him back later in the fall."

 

This is such a relief, you can't imagine.  Or maybe you can, because I'm sure you're as sick of hearing about the potty training as I am of dealing with it!

 

More soon - I promise!

Update at 4:12pm EST

The water flows. See below if you're confused.

I'm off to take a shower.

If I smell, I apologize

We have no water. In the house, that is. Nothing is coming out of the taps right now. We haven't had water since last night, which means we haven't been able to flush the toilets and we weren't able to take showers this morning. I cleaned up with baby wipes this morning... BABY WIPES!

And whose fault is this?

You guessed it. My FATHER-IN-LAW'S!!!!!

He was over yesterday, working on some small household projects with the husband. During all of this, he decided that the husband needed a lesson on where the main water shut-off for the house is located and how it works (because we're so stupid we can't figure out how to turn a knob). Instead of just pointing to it and saying 'Here's your main shut-off', he pointed to it, said 'Here's your main shut-off', gave a brief talk on when we might have to use it, and turned the knob to demonstrate how it works. After my husband confirmed that the water was off, the father-in-law turned it back on.

We had supper and chatted. The husband cleaned up the dishes and started the dish washer. The father-in-law left. The husband walked down the hall to go the the bathroom, past the utility closet where the main water shut-off valve is...

... and stepped in a puddle of water.

Obviously, there should not be a puddle of water on top of the carpet in the hallway.

Knowing now where the main shut-off was, the husband leaped into action, threw open the utility closet doors to shut the valve off... and found water spewing from said main shut-off valve. He got it shut off, and we got most of the water cleaned up, but when he turned it back on water started spewing again.

Something in the valve apparently snapped when the father-in-law gave his demonstration. Of course. Granted, we probably would've had to have gotten this fixed eventually, but we've lived here almost 10 years and haven't had a 'water emergency' that necessitated turning off the water at the main valve.

The plumber is here now... the plumber that does work for the father-in-law's condo complex and does side jobs under the table... he has to drain the water heater (40 gallons) and take it out so he can get to the valve to replace it... it's going to cost about $400.

At least the father-in-law had the sense to offer to pay for all this.

I love the people that read my blog. You all are the bomb.

Twyla tagged me to write about the five best nights of my life. Keep watching for my answers!

Good Girl?

Yes, I am overweight.

Yes, I am diabetic.

Yes, I am trying to loose weight by being more diligent about what I'm eating and by sweating my ass off on my elliptical machine 45 minutes a day at least 6 days a week.

I don't hide or ignore the fact that any of these statements are true. I don't pretend to be someone I'm not (Note to all the other fat girls out there: If you have a roll of fat around your middle so pronounced that it actually hangs over the waistband of your pants, PLEASE do not wear a belly shirt. It's NOT attractive. We thank you in advance for your attention to this.). The fact that the above statements are true, though, does not give you the right to patronize me. If you patronize me, you'll only end up pissing me off.

Here's how the scene unfolded this past Friday...

The new department that I'm in (By the way, I got a new job. Never fear, I'm still at the Casa de Insurance, just in a different department, but more on that in another post.) was gearing up for one of the infamous 'Casa de Insurance department reorganizations' (i.e. everyone was moving to a new desk), which was fine with me because I'd been here almost two weeks and was still sitting in a temporary desk. Management knew this was going to be a completely unproductive day, so they decided to show their appreciation for our understanding by buying us lunch. Pizza was to be delivered at noon. It's always either pizza or bagels with these people, which makes it surprising that our asses aren't permanently wedged into our chairs.

A new job in a new department means that I'm no longer directly across the aisle from Right-Wing-Conservative-Girl (henceforth known as RWCG) - YAY!! BUT, a new job in a new department means that RWCG is on the Casa de Insurance-approved instant messenger program to me FIRST THING EVERY MORNING - BOO!!. The conversation last Friday morning went something like this...

RWCG: Good Morning! How was your evening?
Me: It was okay... just the normal stuff.
RWCG: Good! Are you eating lunch with us today in the cafeteria, or staying at your desk since they're delivering pizza down there? (Side note: Lunch is a very big thing around here. It's almost like a social event, which is irritating. Sometimes I just don't feel like eating lunch with the crowd, but you always have to come up with an excuse. I spend gross amounts of money at Wal-Mart, because it's close and 'I need to pick up something at Wal-Mart' is a good excuse for getting out of the building at lunch time.)
Me: No, I'm not eating the pizza. I brought a big salad from home - trying to watch what I'm eating since I'm getting back on track with everything.
RWCG: Good girl!

Okay, back the truck up, Nellie. "Good girl!"? What the hell is that? I wanted to say, "Pardon me, but I'm not 10 years old and I'm not a dog." I wanted to say, "Do you really think that's encouraging? Because if you want to know the truth, it's not. It's irritating and condescending and rude" but I didn't, because I knew at that moment there was nothing I could type that would come out well, that wouldn't tell her exactly where she could go and how quickly she could go there, and because sometimes you have to choose your battles, especially when you see the person daily, and especially when you sit directly behind their boyfriend in the new department that you've moved to. Instead, I said nothing, shut down the instant messenger, and ate lunch at the big cafeteria table with RWCG and all the other ladies that are the lunchtime regulars.

Good girl? Screw you.

Please keep my friend Lori (see her link on the left) and especially her parents in your thoughts and prayers.  Her dad is in the hospital right now, and it looks like he's going to lose one of his legs from the knee down due to complications from a blood clot.  They're awesome folks, and taught me a few things during the (large amounts of) time that I spent at their house...  everything from cooking (add a can of Pepsi to your chili, you would not believe how much better it tastes) to parenting (if you don't like what your child is doing in their room, take the door off the hinges and put it in the garage for a few weeks).  Though the future looks bleak now, I know they'll get through this and get back to as close to normal as they ever were (and Lori, you know I mean that with all the love in my heart!) very quickly.

Is it wrong...

No, wait... let me re-phrase that...

How wrong is it that I've taught my 3 1/2 year old to say 'Daddy's a weenie'?? He (the 3 1/2 year old, not the daddy) giggles uproariously when he says it, which of course makes it terribly cute.

Is that bad?

Dear Miss Manners...

I'm very disturbed at what seems to be a growing trend. I work in a rather large office, 400-500 people in my building. More and more while I'm in the ladies room, I hear other ladies talking on their cell phones while they're in the stall doing their business!! Personally, I find this quite distasteful, not to mention rude to the person you're speaking to. I'd be mortally offended if I were speaking to someone and suddenly heard through the phone the WHOOSH of a flushing toilet!

I know, however, that this is the 21st Century, and understand how important the electronics are to us, but please tell me, Miss Manners, is this behavior appropriate??

Eagerly awaiting your reply...

Ah, sweet poetice justice...

I haven't written lately about Right Wing Conservative Girl (henceforth known as RWCG). Regular Ruth Speaks Up readers will remember her as my very young, very Baptist, very Republican co-worker. I'm emailing this post in from work, otherwise I'd search the archives for some prior entries on her and link them here. For those of you not familiar with her, here's a recap: she's 29, married and divorced 3 times, with 2 kids by 2 different husbands. She was raised in and still attends a primitive Baptist church, but has been living with her current boyfriend for the last two years. She voted for the first time in 2004, only so she could vote for the Anti-Gay Marriage amendment here in Ohio. Whenever someone brings in donuts, or cookies, or brownies, and I politely decline because I'm trying to keep my blood sugar in check, she goes ON AND ON about how sad it is that Ruth can't have any of the goodies (which, for the record, MAKES ME INSANE). Every morning when she comes in, she has a story concerning the drama of the night before, and since she cannot tell a short story, we all have to listen to her talk for about half an hour… first thing in the morning… which here at the Casa de Insurance is about 7:00am EST.

Anywhooo….

RWCG has definite self-confidence and self-image issues, which in some ways is kind of sad. She's very pretty. Yes, she has some junk in the trunk and could stand to lose maybe 30 pounds, but couldn't't we all? Instead of doing something about this, though, like say exercising on the Gazelle that sits in her living room, she pops 'all natural' Metabalife and eats huge slabs of pizza everyday for lunch. If you are thin and pretty, she hates you on sight. Literally, she hates you. I've recently come to the conclusion that she seems to like me so much only because I'm a bit heavier than her. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think so.

Now here's the good part… the part that has me chuckling right now… she went to a friends July 4^th party weekend before last, and encountered there the step-daughter-in-law of the host, whom she'd never before met. The step-daughter-in-law of the host was very thin and very pretty, which had RWCG in fits. Predictably, the Monday following the party, RWCG had all sorts of stories to tell us about how dense and stupid the step-daughter-in-law of the host of the party was, how as she was talking the girl would stare at her somewhat blankly, how she was apparently so drunk that at one point that when RWCG asked her a question she got up and walked away without answering, and on and on.

Several days ago, RWCG was talking to the host of the party, and recounting to him one instance of (what she thought of as) particular stupidity on the part of the step-daughter-in-law, and the host told her…

"You know she's legally deaf, right? She was looking at you like that while you were talking because she was reading your lips. When she got up and walked away without answering, it was probably because she didn't realize you'd said anything to her."

I can't stop laughing about this. She told me this Tuesday, TWO days ago, and I am STILL laughing about it. When she told me, I HOOTED with laughter, then looked straight at her and said, "You know you're going to hell for that, right?"

More proof to me that God really does exist, and that he has a sense of humor…

Dear Miss Manners,

Is it appropriate for the check-out girl at the grocery store to adjust her chatchkes while she's ringing up my purchases? I don't mean just a small flick of a strap that's strayed down a shoulder, I'm talking a full hand-inside-the-shirt adjustment, followed by an over-the-shirt full-on from-below boost up of both girls.

And, after witnessing such an action, was it appropriate for me to say, "That must feel better"?

I eagerly await your advice...

Why, when I look at my blog, do I see empty red space all the way to the right? Why isn't my pretty umbrella template extending all the way to the edge?

This is driving me nuts...

Words I Never Wanted to Hear My Mother-in-Law Say...

Seriously, people... I do NOT know how many more of these encounters I can take.

The husband and I have been together for 11 years now, married for almost 10. You'd think after all this time, there would be little that the in-laws could say that would make me want to run from the room screaming, YET they are still managing to come up with new material.

So...

We went to the in-laws' place on the 4th for a little patriotic family time. The mother-in-law and I sat down to watch 'Charlotte's Web' (the live-action version that came out last year - very good, by the way. I highly recommend it.) while the father-in-law, the husband and the son did some male bonding. After that, we sat down to dinner.

As we were eating, the husband was recounting bits of a Bill Engvall special we'd watched a few days before on Comedy Central. His junior high-age son had just gone for his first school sports physical, and was understandably devastated by the turn-your-head-and-cough portion of the exam. Bill held up his index finger towards his son and said, 'Wait 'til you get to be my age.'

- Insert laughter here -

The father-in-law made a few jokes at the husband's expense, because he'll be forty in December, etc., etc. The conversation could've ENDED THERE, and it would've been fine.

But no.

My mother-in-law then had to pipe up with...

"Well, it can't be as bad as having one of those internal ultrasounds, like I just had to have at the gyno!" (Note: if you don't know exactly what the internal ultrasound is, use your imagination. I'm sure you'll get it....) Then she continued with...

"It's like having them stick a dildo up your privates! And it's always a woman that does it! Why do they have a woman sticking something like a dildo up inside you? At least if it was a man doing it maybe it wouldn't be so embarrassing."

What?

Okay - I unfortunately have had to have two of these procedures over the years. Trust me, they're embarrassing regardless of the gender of the ultrasound technician. I can only imagine the idiotic look I had on my face as she was saying this, and all I could think (but somehow managed not to say out loud) was

STOP SAYING DILDO!!!!!

I don't know what else to say, other than Ewww!!!

Yes, another new template. What do you think? This probably won't be the last change, which is why I haven't updated the links, so please don't take offense.

I know it's annoying to find something different everytime you visit. I feel as if I'm in a state of flux right now, and I'm trying to find something that just screams RUTH!!!!

Does the red background make it hard to read? And I'm not hip on all that empty space to the right, although it lets the pattern of the template show through nicely.

Have a safe and happy holiday. Say a prayer that our troops come home SOON.

Could it be?

I know you all are on pins and needles, waiting anxiously for another update on the boy's potty training progress.

I, however, am ready for this task to be OVER.

I am happy, nay OVERJOYED, to FINALLY be able to say that MY SON HAS USED THE POTTY!!!!

Don't get too excited. He's still got a ways to go before being COMPLETELY potty trained, but we have at least broken through the first barrier. And, oddly, he's refused his reward of Hershey's kisses for his triumphs. Go figure.

If I knew more about HTML code, I'd put a counter for the pees & poohs that go in the potty over in the sidebar.

Heaven help me.

Trying something new. Tell me what you think.

The results are in.

Chatty Chicka, blog diva from So Many Blogs, So Little Time has posted her review of Ruth Speaks up here.

Why is validation from a complete stranger so satisfying? Of course now, the obsessive part of me wants to shoot for 10 out of 10.

I agree with her comments on the template. I chose the plain black at a time when it seemed appropriate, but perhaps it's time for a change. If only I were a little more computer savy, I might have an easier time with the free blog template sites. We'll work on that.

And I promise not to blog in different colors again.

He is his mother's son...

We have discovered that chocolate might, in fact, be the key to getting the precious, darling boy to use the potty...

Potty training is not going well...

Some good music for kicking ass on the elliptical... these folks rock

Rocco DeLuca & the Burden
Swing Low



Amy Winehouse
Rehab



P!nk
Don't Let Me Get Me

I love my husband . . .

I love my husband . . .

I love my huband . . .

My inability to access blogger yesterday was the result of an 'update' he made to our computer...

... which has now been reversed...

Yowza!

My blog is set to be reviewed by diva Chatty Chicka at So Many Blogs, So Little Time on June 27...

I'm on pins and needles!

I MUST get to work on this place!!!

The boy is enrolled to start preschool in the fall. This is, as expected, breaking my heart. BUT… he very much needs to start being around other kids on a regular basis. We've been lucky, lucky, lucky not to have had to put him in daycare thus far, but it's time for him to start developing his social skills. He's ready for it, as is obvious when he encounters other kids at the park, or at church, or even in the toy aisle at Wal-mart.

So potty training has begun (again) in ernest. If we can get through this, I think it will be a miracle. We're bribing. We're sitting him on the apparatus and letting him cry. It has to be done, and it has to be done now. It should've been done quite a while ago, but I won't even get started on that. I hate the feeling that we're forcing him. So much that you read (which I'm sure I do too much of) says that you shouldn't force, but then other things you read say strip them down, show them where the toilet is, and tell them they have no choice. Why can you show the cat the litter box once or twice and they're good to go, but with children you have to struggle so much?

With this has come, for him, a new fascination with flushing the toilet. In case you were curious, the following items can be flushed, individually, without clogging the pipes:

a Reach© flosser handle

a handful of cotton balls

a tube of Arbonne eye cream (so much for the dark circles under my eyes)

a sample pack of Pantene texturizing shampoo and conditioner

a travel-size jar of Vaseline petroleum jelly

a tube of children's non-flouride toothpaste

I'm sure this list will continue to grow. Maybe I'll add it to the sidebar so I can keep it updated...

"All my life, whenever it comes time to make a decision, I make it and forget about it"

I am a sucker for the claw machines that are packed tightly with cheaped stuffed animals. I have been known to waste a doller or two... or more... if I see something on the top layer that strikes my fancy. I've had pretty good luck with them over the years - a monkey here, an alligator there - but today as I was leaving the grocery store, I couldn't believe what I saw in the machine just outside the exit. What a find! I put in a dollar, which bought me two chances. I got it on the first try, though...

Yes, my friends, that is in fact Harry S Truman, the 33rd president of the United States of America. His tag says that he is one in a collection of twelve of our presidents that have been immortalized as part of the Sugar Loaf line of plush toys from Coinstar Entertainment Services, Inc. The collection includes Richard Nixon - what a coup that would be!! You can bet that I'll be keeping an eye out for him!

Harry will be seeing the sights with me this summer, so be sure to check back often for updates on THE ADVENTURES OF HARRY!

Shout out to Teresa Paulina

If you haven't seen it already, go check out this story about the upcoming WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER.

Should we start planning a road trip for 2009????

I'M NOT TOO PROUD TO ASK FOR A FREE TEMPLATE!!!

I am ... rooted in yesterday,
When I should be... embracing the here and now.

I am ... holding onto hurt, anger and disappointment,
When I should be... practicing forgiveness and offering love.

I am ... yearning for what I don't have,
When I should be... rejoicing in the treasure that surrounds me.

I am... searching for faults, both his and my own,
When I should be... admiring strengths, encouraging accomplishments, and
praising achievements.

I am... clinging to regret and mourning unrealized dreams,
When I should be... looking towards the future with hope and excitement.

I am... indulging in self-pity,
When I should be... LIVING!



Ruth Speaks Up (C) 2007

Memorial Day in Ohio... a photo essay

Where are we headed to again?

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day... the Bacon, Egg & Cheese Bagel is like crack to me...

We live just a few miles from the National Museum of the United States Air Force. The boy LOVES this place, and bonus - admission is free. Unfortunately, there aren't really any pictures of the boy from today, because he won't stand still long enough right now for you to actually take his picture. It really is an extensive and impressive museum. If you're ever in Ohio and close to Dayton, you should take the time to see it.

Don't ask me what the names of any of these planes are. With a 3-year old in tow, there's no time to stop and write down the information.

The museum also includes part of a traveling exhibit on the Holocaust...

And, of course, you can't take a trip to the Air Force Museum without seeing the rockets...

On the opposite end of town is a working historical farm from the 1800's. Some of the buildings are from the original farm, and some are reconstructed.

Now we're home. I'm about to hop on the elliptical (joy, joy), then we're having pizza. Ahh... the excitement of it all...

And now for some inspirational music...

I am sabotaging my marriage.

I've come to this conclusion on my own. . . well, with the help of the counseling, of course, but don't think that either the husband or the counselor has laid this at my feet. In thinking about all this stuff that we have to think about after each counseling session, and all the things we have to write down, and doing all of that openly and willingly and being very honest about it, I've come to this conclusion on my own.

I'm so disappointed with the way things have turned out with my life, that I'm sabotaging my marriage. I'm bitter and spiteful about so many things, and I lay the blame for all of this squarely on the shoulders of my husband.

How awful is that?

I hate my job. I would love to go back to school, but that's out of the question right now because he's out of work and in school, and there's no money, and there's health insurance to consider (which I now carry, because he has no job), and it's doubtful that I'll even be able to go back to school when he's finished, because I'm sure he won't find a job making nearly what I am (not that I make a lot, but it's decent). So the more-likely scenario is that we'll hope for him to find a part-time job in his new career field, which will (hopefully) make getting the precious boy to and from school (he's enrolled in PRESCHOOL for the fall - OH MY GOD!!!! But that's another post.) and all that...

... which leads us directly into the fact that HE'S getting to stay home with the boy for these two years, while he's in school, and all I've had, really, is the measly, completely inadequate six-weeks of maternity leave 3 1/2 years ago. He ends up watching television most of the day, while Daddy tries to study. I'm paranoid that his brain is already mush and that he'll end up with Autism. We're NOWHERE CLOSE on the potty training, which is DRIVING ME APE-SHIT. Daddy has made ONE half-hearted 4-hour attempt, and given up. The boy, delightful and precious though he may be, knows he can play Daddy like a cheap fiddle and get whatever he wants (not materialistically speaking, though, because we're BROKE). I know that being home ALL DAY LONG with a child would be tough... stressful... I don't know... I just know that there are things I might do differently if I were here, but if I try (and yes, I've been nice about it) to suggest these things, offer support or encouragement, whatever, it's seen as a direct insult to his parenting skills.

And the house is a MESS... and I'm EXHAUSTED by the time I get home from work... and there's NO TIME to exercise...

I'm so tired of feeling bitter, and frustrated, and agitated, and irritated by ALL of this, but I don't know what the solution is.

Birthday words for Teresa Paulina

My dear friend Teresa Paulina turns... ummm.... 29 today...

Ti Re Mi, you must remember...

Growing OLD is mandatory...

Growing UP is OPTIONAL!

Happy Birthday, dear friend!!!

Follow the link for some nifty Mother's Day give-a-ways...

If I win the hot-pink iPod Nano, I'm giving it to Twyla...

Oh, to be able to relax so totally and completely...

I really should apologize.

 

I posted that teaser about the counseling, then haven't had a chance since then to follow-up.  It really wasn't my intention to string you along all this time.  Why is it that the things you have to do always get in the way of things you want to do?  I hate that.  I'm sure you all understand…

 

And who posted a comment, then deleted it?  That's driving me ape-shit.

 

But I digress.

 

The counseling is going well, I think.  I realized early on that the husband views all of this as 'airing our dirty laundry' in public, but I think he's eased away from that somewhat.  We both like and feel very comfortable with the counselor, so that makes a big difference.

 

When time permits, I promise I will post more.

You're just itching to know how the counseling's going, aren't you?

WORDS TO LIVE BY

Accept differences
Be kind
Count your blessings
Dream
Express thanks
Forgive
Give freely
Harm no one
Imagine more
Jettison anger
Keep confidences
Love truly
Master something
Nuture hope
Open your mind
Pack lightly
Quell rumors
Reciprocate
Seek wisdom
Touch hearts
Understand
Value truth
Win graciously
Xeriscape
Yearn for PEACE
Zealously support a worthy cause

On cell phones and other things...

I've just spent $77.18 on Ebay for a Motorola C261 brand new, unlocked, unbranded camera phone that, according to the description and according to the young salesman with the earpiece at the local dealer for my cell phone plan I'll be able to put my sim card into and be up and running again.

This purchase was necessitated by the fact that my LG C1500 flip-phone that came free with the contract is now two pieces instead of one piece connected with a hinge, thanks to the 3-year old.

To be fair to the 3-year old, a small piece of the hinge cracked off a few weeks ago when the 3-year old's mommy dropped the flip-phone while in line at the grocery (hard tile floor + flimsy plastic cell phone = UT OH!). The little antenna-thingy cracked several months back when the phone went flying in the parking lot of the Casa de Insurance (hard blacktop + flimsy plastic cell phone = I'M REALLY SURPRISED THIS THING STILL WORKS!). The phone was on its way out. The 3-year old just helped it on its way by forcibly shoving it away when I held it out to him after he asked to talk to daddy.

Anywhoo...

I took the phone to the local dealer for my particular plan. A young salesman with a Bluetooth earpiece looked at the two pieces of my phone laying on the counter and said "That's not good".

Master of the Obvious (special side note to Teresa Paulina: Had we copyrighted this phrase in the early 90's at Berea, we'd be millionaires now. I hear and see it quite frequently. Who knew?)

According to his computer, my current contract doesn't expire until October of this year. I'm not eligible for an 'upgrade' (i.e. free phone) until July 19 (Which, oddly, is my 8 year anniversary at the Casa de Insurance. Hmmm...), and then to receive the 'upgrade' (free phone) I'd have to sign another 2-year contract. No thanks. We're not overly thrilled with this particular plan, and are already planning to switch when the contract is up. I just want a new phone, period. He proceeds to tell me my options are:

1) pay full price for a new phone ($300+) - or -
2) 'upgrade' early, which would allow me to only pay 1/2 price for a new phone, but I'd still have to sign a new 2-year contract

I looked blankly at the young salesman with the Bluetooth earpiece and said, "Those are my only options?"

To which he replied, "If I were you, seriously, if I were you, I'd get on Ebay and do a search for {insert name of calling plan here} phones. You can get some great deals on these phones on Ebay because the reps win them in contests and stuff, then go right home and list them on Ebay. I just got this {some apparently high-end, all-the-bells-and-whistles phone that I don't remember the name of} for just {some un-Godly amount of money} on Ebay. All you have to do when you get it is drop your SIM card in, you know, that little card-thing in the back of your phone? Just drop in the back of the new phone and you'll be good to go."

So here we are. With my Motorola C261 camera phone ($59.18 + $18.00 shipping, because it's coming FedEx) I get the brand new, unlocked phone, brand new battery, brand new battery door (nice of them to include that... seems to me like that should be standard with the phone), a home charger, a hands-free earpiece and an EVA phone case (I don't even know what that is, but apparently it's worth $40).

Are you wondering yet why I'm telling you so much about purchasing a new cell phone? Let's face it, this is not the most fascinating stuff to read about. But here's the thing... I can't stand to be without the phone. Not because I talk or text on it all that much (you should see the balance of rollover minutes we have - we're losing rollover minutes at the end of the month because the balance is so high), but because I no longer feel safe without one. I used to think I'd probably never get one - why bother? - isn't one of the points of leaving the house to get away from the phone? Then I had a child, and the whole universe shifted.

Now the child is enrolled to start pre-school in the fall (that's another post all on its own). Just a week or so before we enrolled him for preschool, Cho Seung-Hui lost what was left of his already tortured mind and shot down 32 people before killing himself. A few days after that, we came to the 8-year anniversary of the Columbine High School tragedy. The pre-school we just enrolled the beautiful 3-year old in locks its doors after all of the kids have arrived in the morning (don't worry, there are crash bars on the insides of the doors), and if you arrive after that you have to ring a doorbell to have someone come let you in. Maybe I'm insane, but always, always in the pit of my stomach there is a kernel of worry that something is going to happen to my child. Sometimes the worry turns into fear so intense that I almost have panic attacks. Sometimes the worry turns to fear so intense that I actually start to have a panic attack, and wish I'd never had a child. I have two dear, dear friends that teach in public schools, and I worry about them, too. Is it any wonder that I'm in counseling now?

I normally try to keep things somewhat light-hearted here. I'm better with humor and sarcasm than with current events and politics. Call me a wimp, call me a wuss, but I don't like to start arguments, so I usually keep my opinions to myself on the big that's going on. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe. If you think that then so be it. But here it is...

That there are people using this latest school shooting as an example of why they think gun control laws should be more lenient makes me sick. Is it true that if even one student or professor had had a gun in their backpack or briefcase that day, they could've shot down the gunman before he had the chance to kill and injure so many people? Probably. BUT it's also true that if background checks performed in Virginia when a person purchases a gun included records for psychiatric therapy done on an outpatient basis, HE NEVER WOULD'VE BEEN ABLE TO BUY THE GUN IN THE FIRST PLACE. Do I need to send my 3-year old off the pre-school with a handgun in his bookbag, in case his teacher didn't have the foresight to pack hers the day someone decides to storm the Presbyterian church with a semi-automatic?

In all honesty (and this statement probably won't help me win the popularity vote, but I've never been overly worried about that), I question the sense and good judgement of a person who feels the need to carry a concealed weapon.

How about using this latest tragedy as a call to action, to have our existing gun control laws revamped, revised, and ENFORCED, before more people start shooting?

Tomorrow is Monday, and I hate Monday. I probably can't get away with calling off on yet another Monday, though. My supervisor is stupid, but I'm sure she'd catch on.

The doctor asked me during our counseling appointment week before last why I was born. He was going for the 'what were you put on this earth to do' kind of thing, and I couldn't really come up with a good answer for him.

Hmmm... I'm still thinking about that one.

Because I think I need more abuse, I guess, and thanks to TWYLA, I've submitted my blog to be reviewed by So Many Blogs, So Little Time. Why? Who knows.

They'll probably rip me to shreds, but it might be fun. Their waiting list of blogs to be reviewed is pretty long, so I've got plenty of time to spruce things up before their visit, I'm sure.

The 18 year old daughter of a former co-worker died last Thursday, as a result of injuries she sustained in a very, very bad car accident a few days before Easter. The doctors did what they could, drilling hole after hole in her skull to relieve the pressure that kept building due to brain swelling, and cauterizing her spleen to stop internal bleeding (because she wasn't stable enough for surgery). The injuries were beyond their repair, though, and she died late in the afternoon on April 12, in her father's arms, after he and her estranged mother made the decision to shut off the life support.

I didn't really know her father while he worked at the Casa de Insurance, and I didn't even know he had a daughter until I heard about this accident. I find myself, though, unable to stop thinking about this tragic turn of events. I have cried and cried over this teenager I never met, and at the thought of the grief that her parents are now facing. How do you even begin to recover from something such as this?

I am a Christian. I go to church every week. I'm sure I don't read my Bible as much as I should, but I pray earnestly each night when I get into bed, for guidance and wisdom, for strength, for the safety and health of my son. But at times like this, I find myself wanting to rant and scream - How could YOU do this to these people? YOU call yourself loving? YOU call yourself compassionate? Where is the sense in something like this? According to her boyfriend (who was in the car) and the Highway patrolmen at the scene, she wasn't speeding, or talking on her cell phone, or fiddling with the radio. There was no evidence of alcohol or drugs in her system. She was just driving to school, slowed down to avoid an accident in the road ahead of her, and lost control on a patch of black ice on the road from rain the night before.

I think about things like this, and sometimes actually become physically ill. Because of the faulty wiring in my brain, or maybe just because I'm a parent, I'm always led to the thoughts of 'what if something like this happens to my son?', which most times brings me close to a panic attack.

I know that the will of God is not for me to know. I've seen 'The Lion King' and I understand the 'Circle of Life', and I realize that no one knows when it will be 'their time to go'. But I cannot, cannot reconcile in my head such senseless pain and suffering. There is no reason. There is no justification. There is only grief and pain and loss.

I will never understand or accept it.

If you lift something from someone's blog, isn't common courtesy to give credit where credit is due?

That's all I'm sayin'...

Strange Encounter With My Father-in-Law number ????

Maybe I am a prude, and I just don't want to admit it.

The in-laws keep the boy for a few hours every Tuesday afternoon, because my husband has a 3:00pm class that day and there's no way I can get off work early enough to get home to the boy.

I went to pick the boy up this afternoon at the in-laws' place. It was a beautiful afternoon, so we were sitting on their back patio, which overlooks a small pond that's on the property where their condo is. It's Spring, and we all know that in the Spring, young men's hearts turn to thoughts of love. One female duck, hotly pursued by FOUR male ducks, came waddling around the corner of the building. They got hold of her after a minute and proceeded to have their way. I have to say, I really felt bad for her. It wasn't romantic at all, and they were a little rough. She finally broke away and ran for the pond, jumped in, and started dunking herself over and over.

Which prompted my father-in-law to say (as he was laughing)... "She jumped in the pond to have a douche!"

I'm just not sure how I feel about this...

THANKS to HEATHER for the VisualDNA!! Too cool!

Since I'm 'heavily depressed', I thought the dark background was appropriate... for now, anyways.

I have so much to say about this, but just need to organize my thoughts...

Please keep your arms and legs inside the car until the ride comes to a complete stop

"Heavy depression that's now affecting your marriage"

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

... we had our first appointment with a counselor night before last. This was all my idea, of course (which leads me to the very paranoid fear that he's going to end up resenting me for pushing the counseling so aggressively, especially now since it appears that a good portion of the problems we're having are mine, because of said heavy depression mentioned above). I'm thinking this will be quite the roller-coaster ride. I'm still not sure if I'm comfortable with all this. Yes, it was my idea to begin with, so I have no one to blame but myself, and I'm not blaming anyone (over the idea of going to counseling, that is). It makes you feel very vulnerable,though, wide open now for the world to see, hoping you don't catch someone pointing their finger at you and laughing... and hearing someone say the words 'heavy depression that's now affecting your marriage' and knowing they're talking about you makes you feel somehow... well... defective.

I get so nervous when it comes to things like these, and when I get excessively nervous the tears start to flow.

I'm sure this guy just thought I was a real mess.

I really don't want to go back, but I think we have to. I think I have to. I don't think there's any other choice at this point.

I'm thinking about putting some thoughts, ideas, etc., down on paper and taking it with me to our next appointment, so I have my thoughts collected. Talk about anal. The guy we're seeing practices cognitive behavioral therapy, so I'm not aloud to blame things on my husband any longer, but rather look at how I'm responding to what he's doing. Hmmmmm.... I'm so ensconced in the blame-thing that this is really going to be tough for me. But something had to be done, and I was running out of ideas.

So we'll see... wait and see, wait and see, wait and see...

Warm weather is here (for a few days, anyway), and that means sandals. And when the sandals some out, so do the painted toenails.

I'm particularly enamored (enameled?) this year with the OPI shade Lincoln Park After Dark (part of the Deliciously Dark collection), which I found at the little place down the road where I get my hair cut.

I just love painted toenails. They make me feel sophisticated, pulled-together, like I've got it all going on. Even on days when closed-toe shoes are necessary, it's nice to know that inside, the toes look fabulous. It's the same for a girl, I suppose, as wearing a matching bra & panties set... it just makes you feel girly. I never thought I had the talent for it, until a friend of mine gave me her 'secret' about 12 years ago: just slop the stuff on. Don't worry about coloring in the lines, and the more coats the better. Take a hot shower the next morning, and after you've been in for a few minutes, scrub, scrub, scrub your toes with the wash cloth. The polish that got on your skin comes right off, and you're left with beautifully painted nails.

For years, I thought there was some kind of magic to it. But no. I've also wanted to try the French-manicure look that many women are sporting on their feet today, but just can't bring myself to have a pedicure (which has nothing to do with not wanting people to touch my feet). I've been told I have nice feet, and nicely shaped toes in particular, but there are leg issues that I won't go into. I was THRILLED this weekend when I found press-on toenails, painted to look like the French-manicure. I got 7 out of the 10 toes done and they looked stunning, but then ran into a glue problem (and, for a few minutes, the possibility that the index finger and thumb on my left hand might be permanently fused together) that proved too much to overcome, so I gave up and removed what I'd already gotten on.

They're only $4.99 a set. Maybe I'll try again.

Girl Scout Cookies Thin Mints are the work of the devil...

THANKS TWYLA!

I've been tagged by TWYLA to list 7 songs that I'm into right now. I played around on YouTube enough that I actually figured out how to link the videos here, too (go me!).

In no particular order...

The Fray - How to Save a Life

Dave Matthews Band - American Baby

Dave Matthews Band - Say Goodbye

Dave Navarro - Rexall

Rocco DeLuca & the Burden - Colorful

Liz Phair - Extraordinary

The Subways - Rock & Roll Queen

Is that seven? I think that's seven.

I'm supposed to now tag seven people to complete this, but I'm not sure I know seven people with blogs. If you read this, consider yourself tagged.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming...

I was off work last week and had planned to blog, blog, blog, but then suddenly the week was over. My house is not much cleaner now than it was before last week, nor is my son any closer to being toilet trained. Today, I had to return to work and endure the endless "HOW WAS YOUR VACATION?!? DID YOU GO ANYWHERE?!?" inquiries.

Ugh.

The BEAUTIFUL, SLEEK 30GB iPod has been out of the box and in use for about 2 weeks now, and it's fabulous. It was inevitable. I don't know why I even pretended like there was a chance I'd return it.

The EYEBROW, I'm sorry to say, is not regenerating as quickly as I'd like it to. It's definitely starting to come back, but I wish it would hurry up. Although I've become a master at filling in the missing portion with an eyebrow pencil, I'm tired of being so paranoid about it that I carry said eyebrow pencil around in my pocket, ready to re-apply at any time. Honestly, it's a little exhausting.

I've been in my head too much lately... way too much. My husband and I have been fighting horribly. I don't know what's wrong with us. We've lost our mojo, and I'm starting to wonder if it's ever going to come back. I hate that thought, but there you have it. I'm trying to convince him that the opinion of an objective third party (read: marriage counseling) would be beneficial, but I've not won that argument yet. Keep your fingers crossed for us.

FAVE PHOTO FRIDAY

The Love family, circa 1923

My paternal grandparents were missionaries in the Cameroons in West Africa from 1911 to sometime in the 1950's. My two uncles (my dad's two older brothers) were both born there. My dad was born in Toledo, OH, but lived in Africa until he was about 7 or 8. This is one of the passport photos taken of the family during that time. My dad is the littlest one, in the sailor suit. He was 3 when this picture was taken.

I love this picture.

Can it get any worse?

There's been an... incident.

I decided to stop on the way home from work the other night to have my eyebrows waxed. I'm not adept at plucking them, not to mention that it's very tedious. I have no problem paying someone $10 + tip to apply hot wax to my skin and rip it off with a piece of fabric. All in the name of beauty.

BUT... and this has never happened before... I should've been wary when the girl that usually does them isn't there. I should've been even more wary when it took the girl that did end up doing much, much longer than it normally takes. Sure enough, when she handed me the mirror to take a look, I saw the BIG, GAPING HOLE IN MY LEFT EYEBROW. There's eyebrow, then no eyebrow, then a little bit of eyebrow at the end.

"Ummm... the right one looks great, but I think we've got a problem with the left one," I said.

"Yeah," she responded, nervously. "There was a little problem there."

"A little problem?"

"You don't have to pay for it..."

"Honey, paying for it is the least of my worries right now. What concerns me is walking around with half an eyebrow until this grows out."

"I think you'd be okay using an eyebrow pencil. And it should grow back in really quickly. I'm really sorry."

"An eyebrow pencil? I am missing PART OF MY EYEBROW because you were careless with the wax, and all you have to say is you think I'll be okay with using and eyebrow pencil?"

"I'm really sorry..."

I walked out. Until this grows back (thank GOD they grow back QUICKLY), I'm walking around with an eyebrow pencil in my pocket. I was in the bathroom probably a dozen times today at work checking it, and spent the rest of the time at my desk, worried that the rim of my glasses would rub the eyebrow pencil off.

Jesus...

Monday afternoon haiku. . .

iPod mocking me
in the drawer, so close at hand
damn you, 30 gigs

Crap.

I thought earlier today that my (horribly inadequate 4GB) iPod was fried, because it locked up and I couldn't do anything with it.

Last week was just about the worst week up my life, coming in second only to the week in 1998 when my mom died and in 2005 when my dad died (which are currently tied for first place).

Seriously. The week was truly THAT bad, no exaggeration. I'd go into details, but I'm tired of thinking about all of it.

I can't be without my iPod. It's just unthinkable. So I took the plunge and bought the 30GB I've been drooling over. That's what the credit card is for, right - a little retail therapy for those time when life is SO ABSOLUTELY SUCKY that all you want to do is lay in bed and eat pop tarts. I have no business AT ALL spending money like this right now. None. Zip. Nada. It's completely, totally careless and irresponsible on my part.

Wouldn't you know... when I got home, I was able to get the (horribly inadequate) 4GB iPod working. The beautiful, new 30GB iPod is still in the box, in the bag from the store with the receipt. I've got 30 days to return it.

I hate making decisions like this.

Awwww.... isn't he handsome?

This is what he looked liked after he got hold of his squirt bottle of shampoo...

At least he cleaned off the table, too...

EUREKA!!

The digital camera is back up & running (thank-you PAX for your words of wisdom on how I could find the drivers for my camera online - it was exactly what I needed, and saved me spending hours trying to find the disc that came with the camera!).

So here we go...

My first knitting project completed. Yes, you guessed it, it's an iPod cozy! I think the cozy - teapot cozy, toaster cozy, toilet paper cozy - has really gotten a bad wrap. I found instructions for this on DIYnetwork.com, which is the home of 'Knitty Gritty', the knitting show I'm now addicted to. The pictured doesn't really do it justice. The yarn is chunky and fuzzy, and has a stunning turquoise-colored satin ribbon running through it. Sadly, the instructions that I followed for this are for a full-size iPod, and I have the iPod mini (now the iPod Nano). Being the ingenious person that I am, I tailored the instructions for the size iPod I have, and came up with this...





A perfect fit! Again, the picture does not do it justice. The yarn is varigated, ranging from orange to yellow to blue, and it's also thick and fuzzy.


Although Mou laughed when I told him about the iPod cozy, I think it's what all the hip, stylish iPods will be wearing this Spring.





The obligatory scarf - an early project for every knitter




The weather here last Tuesday was just absolutely too nasty to try to make the 22 mile drive from my house to the Casa de Insurance. I left a message for my supervisor about 5:45am telling her I wouldn't be in, then promptly started on this stunning scarf. The yarn is thick and bumpy, and a mottled brown and black color. I worked on it all day. It ended up being about 7 ft long, and I LOVE IT!






A close-up of the wonderful scarf. Hopefully the color and texture comes through a little better here.





I'm a knitting fiend. It's nice to do something creative again.

Noooooooooooooooooo!!!!!

I really stuck it to the 'man' at the Casa de Insurance yesterday, and told my boss that there was just NO WAY that I was risking life and limb on the ice and snow to make it into the office.  Since they don't see the need to furnish me with a laptop computer, enabling me to work from home on such occasions, they lost out for the day.  I spent the day knitting a FABULOUS scarf, which I would post pictures of, if it weren't for the fact that

 

I CAN'T GET MY DIGITAL CAMERA AND/OR COMPUTER TO UPLOAD PICTURES.

(*gasp*  *sob*)

 

The computer isn't recognizing that something is plugged into one of the USB ports, or something.  I haven't really had a chance to play with it.

 

So, alas, you will have to be patient a little longer.  I will post pictures of both the scarf and my first knitting project, a rather stunning 'cozy' for my iPod, as soon as I can figure out what's wrong with the camera and/or computer.

 

And hopefully I'll have something interesting to say soon, too.

Was I ever really THIS young (don't stop at the first pic... keep scrolling down!!)????????

I'm going to have to start going through MY photo albums now!!