September 8, 2009

I was accused a few days ago of being a little over eager about today.

I don't think so!!!

Must be love

I read a saying by a child the other day that went,

"You know it's love when you say you like their shirt and they wear it every day."

I was following a discussion today about an industry issue (one relevant to my industry) and I must confess it made me a little - no, make that a lot - frustrated. And by the time I went out to the kitchen to make supper, I was a little riled. Can you be frosted and steamed all at the same time? My poor hubby, that I hadn't really talked with all day, stepped right into the line of fire with a possibly innocent question and then just stood back as I went off. At least I wasn't waving a knife.

I spouted and spewed and generally behaved like a shrew and he just watched.

Then he decided to talk about baseball.

So on that note, here's a link to some great baseball commercials by the Mariners. (Yes, I know, but it's the only sports channel we get and I'm starting to like them.)

I highly recommend the one called "Sorry."

Now I've got to see if I can find a shirt he likes ...

The Butterfly Circus

This short film is 20 minutes long and well worth every second of your time:

Slipping a gear

Ever have one of those days?

I spend Sunday and Monday driving someone else's car. It was a fun little car and had lots of oomph on the hills of the interstate of our area. Even with the air conditioning on.

Our van doesn't like working as hard when the air conditioning is on. It thinks a little more about the hills and generally acts as lazy as the heat around here makes me feel.

I should mention too, that our vehicle (the brand, not just the one we're driving) had a history of dropping transmissions at pretty predictable times. So when the engine starts straining just a little, I do tend to wonder if this is "the big one" - has the tranny given up the ghost and I'll end up staring at the under side of my van on a hoist somewhere? It happened to us once in St. Regis, Montana. I don't recommend an extended stay in St. Regis, Montana, by the way. Or Fargo, North Dakota. Although that was discs, not the transmission.

But back to today - I left home to run down to the library for some more summer stories. And couldn't help but notice that the engine was revving a little high. I mean, we should have been driving about 120 mph according to the tachometer. But we definitely weren't. (Really, honey.) And then on the first big hill it got worse.

"Oh, no." (Visions of shop cars started dancing in my head.) "This is not a good week for this!"

Turns out I'd left the parking brake on.

Read the fine print

Yesterday I received one of those forwards that occasionally do the rounds. It was from a wonderful friend and I loved the sentiment of it. It began...

"You have been considered one of the 10 prettiest ladies with a kind, warm and loving heart."

Aw, shucks. Me? Really? Gee, thanks. (small blush)

Then I'm supposed to "hit" 10 more women with the message and wait to see if it makes it back to me. But in the midst of all the flattery and prettiness, came this warning:

"If you fail to forward this, you'll have ugliness for 10 years."

What!? What kind of threat is that? 10 years? Do you suppose I could negotiate 1 year off the sentence for each friend I send it to? Ten years, after all, is a long time to deal with ugliness. I mean, come on, I'm living in America, and even 10 weeks of ugliness around the proposed health care reform is too much. There's a saying - "Beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes all the way through." - and I don't know if I would be able to see the light at the end of a 10 year tunnel.

So for the moment, I won't be forwarding this message. After all, I hope you know you're beautiful already. I certainly think you are. But if a message with a pink insect suddenly shows up in your inbox, you'll know I had a bad hair day and I'm hedging my bets.

Out at the Old Ball Game

This week, we celebrated our anniversary by going to a baseball game with the young 'uns. A AAA baseball game actually. (Ahh, romance.) How else would you spend the afternoon when it's 90 degrees outside and there's not a shade tree in sight?

It was a great game and we were pretty well positioned. Not necessarily to catch all the nuances of the game but we were seated by some of the more colorful characters in the bleachers (metal, btw). If you know me well, you know I'm a shameless eavesdropper. As I told a class I was visiting this morning, "If you see me at the mall, lower your voice."

Right beside me was a guy that appeared to be a junior coach of some kind because he always had a comment about the style/form/skill of the various players. Some of them were really informative and some of them sounded like a guy version of cattiness.

"I don't let kids wear those pads unless it's a warm up."

"What a great throw to first! How'd he do that!?"

And right beside him was a young woman (well, not YOUNG young, just younger than me young) that had to agree with everything he said:

"Yeah, I haven't worn knee savers since I was, like, twelve."

"Yeah, what's with the crazy stance?"

But a few rows down from them was my personal favorite - a larger blond lady that knew every player's name but wasn't in the parent box. Every comment was screamed at a volume that may actually have been responsible for the infrequent breeze that blew past once in awhile:

"Remember the Cow - Cow - Count!"

"Make it HOT, Eric!"

"Whoo-hoo! That's the way! JUST FINISH THEM OFF NOW!"

"Put some PEPPER on it, baby!"

It was a great game.


(<-Notice the requisite ice-cream-cone profiled manager in the white pants...)








Oh, yeah, the home team won the game and, with it, the championship. I did notice that part, too.

Potty humor

(Be Warned!- This post contains potty humor. Actual potty humor involving toilets and bodily functions. So turn away now if you're offended by such things!

... LAST CHANCE to TURN AWAY!...)

Okay - you can't say you weren't warned ...

We were sitting at supper (or dinner, if that's the meal you eat in the evening in your neck of the woods, although if you read on you'll figure out we're not that couth) the other night and someone happened to mention that a person (apparently with nothing better to do) came up with an app that sends a Tweet every time his toilet flushes. Which begs the question - do we really need to know that? So somehow, the ways things often seem to at my house, the conversation turned to the sorts of songs or sayings a person might use in that situation (if a person were so inclined).

Here's a few (but only a few) that we came up with (and I'll point out that very few of them came from me):

I Like to Move It (Reel 2 Real, or will.i.am, depending on your age)

Poop Scoop Boogie (Tim Hawkins)

"I feel the earth move..." (Carole King)

"Right foot, lets stomp, left foot, lets stomp, SQUEEZE!" (the original line is "freeze" from Cha Cha Slide by Mr. C The Slide Man)

"How about a nice number 2?" (robot from a hair salon commercial)

"I'm a big kid now..." (from a Huggies commercial)

"... you put your right foot in
And you swish it all about" (adapted from the Hokey Pokey)


There are days I have no hope for my family.

...okay, I gotta stop there and go wash my hands...


*photos courtesy of benedeki and wax115 at www.sxu.com