I'm not big on cell phones. Not big on having a land-line either. In fact, I'm no longer compelled to jump out of my seat on a mad dash to answer it let alone to risk a head on collision while a call comes in while I'm driving.
Not so when I was younger. There was a time before the polyphonic sounds of a pop song jingle or the emergence of touch tone technology. A time when many tried dialing 867-5309 in hopes to reach Jenny for a good time.
We actually dialed a phone back then, patiently waiting for each whir to bounce back so we can pull up the next number. This ancient Seek 'n Say technology was once exciting as every ring rung could mean a call just for me!!
My problem now is that every call no matter how cleverly disguised is always for me! Someone out there needs something. My ear, my money, my attention and my time.
Shortly before he died at age 93, Mr. McCoy and I were watching a T-Mobile cell phone commercial about buying minutes and rolling-over unused minutes. He said to me, "I would willingly stand at street corners, hat in hand, asking passersby to drop their unused minutes into it."
Like gold there is the escaping possibility that time cannot be made. Truth is, time is too quickly spent. Quite often time is spent earning money which also happens to be too easily spent. Such a discouraging concept of reality, yet beneath it's cold heavy shadows of woe - cowers a hope. A hope that time can be made if invested correctly.
Four decades ago A.W. Tozer wrote; "Modern civilization is so complex as to make the devotional life all but impossible." This was even before the time-saving, convenient technologies as Google, GPS, Blackberries and Cellphones were to rob us of our time.
Earlier this morning I was talking to a dear friend whom I haven't made the time to call for well over a year. A year wherein he has been suffering greatly by the tolls demanded by MS. What kind of lousy excuse can I give for that?
No, I didn't make the time but instead spent the time. Wastefully? Absolutely not for I sincerely squeezed every minute for what they were worth.
I invested time with my quickly growing daughter. With my successful, wonderful husband who I truly believe in. Not mountains, but crumbs of time scattered here and there for friends and far off loved ones. An unmeasurable amount of time with Mr. & Mrs. McCoy during the last year of their lives.
Such valued time spent yet invested so that it will last an eternity.
So go ahead. Give me a call. Make my cellphone vibrate and buzz across my desk as it jams to the tune of Babba O'Reilly by The Who. If I happen not to answer please leave a message on my voice mail system. I can't promise to make time, but will try to find the time to devote some time with you....
Teaching Squirt the notion of tolerance tempered by little girl manners has been challenging. I think we've been very successful in encouraging her to embrace human differences. Sharing with her how our differences makes each of us special and distinct.
We encourage her that it is appropriate to stand out, be heard, dare to be different and not follow the crowd. Allowing her the confidence to reach her arms up high and shout, "This is me and I love me!"
Mixing child rearing with the added importance of honesty. Giving our ears to her openness. Extending permission for her to be able to come to us with any question or concern. Warning her to always take into consideration the feelings of another in all that she says and does. Always trying our best as parents to live and breath the examples that we expect of our children.
Sending Jon to pick up a gallon of milk with Squirt tagging along for the ride can be just the right opportunity to wrack havoc on years of tolerance teaching. How was I to know that those two would run into a situation that Squirt has never encountered before?
One would think Jon being 6'4" tall would notice the supermarket's new employee bagging up his groceries at the end of the line. You know, Eagles nest views have great advantages. But no - it took Squirt, all 3'8" of her - to take notice and take matters to heart. She quickly ran over to the guy, gave him a great big bear hug and exclaimed hyper-joyously:
"Look Daddy! I found a little grown up. He's the same size as me!"
I don't know what got into my husband at that very moment. Maybe he was put off by the bag of Oreo cookies he picked up without permission with the milk. Perhaps it could be the fact that the Supermarket Savings Card looks a lot like our VISA. Could be a rogue gray squirrel ran up his left pant leg. But what does he do? His epic response?
He laughs his nutty head off! No, not just your friendly smiling snicker or polite chuckle of recognition. Not even a well adjusted laugh of maturity or the sense to quickly gain control of the situation. No, he sets off on a giggle fit!
From what our regular cashier told me this afternoon, Jon laughed so hard that his eyes welled up with tears. With bags of groceries in hand he stumbled as quickly as he could to get out of the store. Almost leaving poor Squirt behind as she sadly said bye-bye to her new found friend.
A friend whom she promptly introduced to me today as the little grown up person. Followed by a sincere, honest request if she could ask him to come over sometime so she can play with him.
Let the countdown begin! This morning Jon, Katie and I went to her elementary school to complete her Kindergarten registration and to meet her new teacher. Katie's new school is adorable but amazingly bigger than I had expected. As parents we were very impressed. Kindergarten for us at 35 years ago wasn't anything like this!
Afterward we came home and I ran next door to pick up my paycheck. The money didn't last very long as I had to run out again to go shopping at the last minute. School uniforms, shoes, supplies and a spiffy new haircut were in order.
The school uniforms - I once grumbled about now are so darn cute! Peter pan blouses, pleated skirts, sweaters and knee socks are really quite preppy and stylin'. Her school colors are red and white, but they do allow navy blue also. All I had left to buy for her wardrobe were some sort of bows, headbands and barrettes for her....
....oh my gosh.. her hair!! That insane curly mop that has been driving me nuts since she first sprouted it at age one. I've tried everything folks and curly hair is a big job to keep up with. To top it off, she has a whole lot of it! Thick, curly and wild. Everyone else seems to love it - but me, who has to fight with it and comb it every night and morning for 45 minutes.
I finally broke and landed a half cocked, crazy but "hey this may work" idea!!
I happened to walk by a beauty salon that advertised out front $9.99 for a kid's cut. As I peeked in the window it was obvious that this shop catered to African-American clients. Well, I'll be - this was exactly what we needed. My child, afterall - owns a 'Fro and it was high time to weed whack it down to manageable levels.
I'm telling you - it was the BEST thing I ever have done. I learned stuff about caring for curly hair that I had no idea of knowing before today. Katie absolutely loved it. From the shampooing, to the primping, cutting and styling. We both left the place with her curls uniform, neat and bouncing all over the place and I now know how to keep it that way.
We're almost ready for Katie's first big day of school..... or am I?
It's that time of year again. Spinning tops of angry water are pirouetting across the Atlantic Ocean stage to bring us the best in entertainment for the fall season line up.
The Weather Channel
Edouard was a mysterious character. His danger blown way out of proportion by the Weather Channel script writers. They had the whole gulf coastal side of Texas running to and fro in an urgency to hoard bottled water and gasoline. A serial killer was heading their way. What a big disappointment, for Mr. Edouard's character was merely puffed up with hot air. Barely stopping to take a leak along the Texas coast.
The character of Fay played out last week as she sponged up over half of the Caribbean seas and squeezed it out all over the Southeast. Some regions welcomed Ms. Fay and her tithing of plentiful water. Other regions cursed her as they floated down their avenues atop of their beer coolers beating off drowning rats and alligators with a fallen twig. Trust me on this, I lost three pairs of heels to Ms. Fay with one sole still laying out on the grass by our mailbox.
Today we have Gustav, sprung up and ready to pounce into the Gulf of Mexico. A Zorro of sorts, pointing his sworded path straight to New Orleans. Speaking of loosing shoe soles, the booted shape state of Louisiana are tightening their laces in preparation for this character. Mr. Gustav may be dangerous enough to make all our hairs stand on end.
And who may I ask, is this young lady dancing on the heels of Gustav northeast of Puerto Rico? Such a character of depression at the moment. Ms. Hanna is seemingly unsure on where she would like to spend her end of summer vacation. The Bahamas look appealing. Maybe the clean white beaches of Florida. Perhaps there will be Labor day festivities next week along the coastal Carolinas?
But wait, I hear coastal Savannah, GA is nice this time of year. Chef Paula Dean has some crispy fried chicken and Krispy Kreme bread pudding on buffet downtown. They serve Guiness on tap and it's about time for a variety of seafood festivals in and around the area. An added plus is that blogger person Margaret lives there and is in dire need of an issue to write about.
Stay tuned to The Weather Channel folks. If Ms. Hanna decides to stop by and visit me next week - I promise to make every effort to get naked and run in the wind behind the Weather Channel's Jim Catore while he broadcasts from the shores of Tybee.
Hey I called out of work sick this afternoon! I hated it, but had no other choice. This morning while at my "other job" I somehow managed to contort, twist and hang up the ole' sciatica.
Spinal disc herniation was what they called it seven years ago after a speeding tour bus rear-ended me. Imagine if you will, smacking someone wearing false teeth really hard in the back of the head so their teeth would fly out. Same concept, only instead of teeth we're talking about the cushion like cartilage that is found in between each disc of your spinal column.
Three of mine are smacked out of place but aren't problematic on most days. However, all it can take is a simple bending over or turn to the side and wham!!! One of my discs are chalk board screeching against a major spinal column protected nerve for a period of time.
Only it's like a toothache propelled by a jet engine through my right hip, buttocks and inner thigh to my knee. Standing and walking is out of the question. Sitting is no fun either especially when driving and the right foot needs to be working the brake and gas pedals. Laying down brings relief and rest to the area. Nuprin helps the inflammation and you can pick almost any drug to manage the pain - but the throbbing pain will still exist.
Even a Chiropractor would help some if you have health insurance and can afford one.
I had not and could not, but could lay down with medication and ice packs to rest for the remainder of the day.
It's now 11pm and I feel much better now. I only feel bad about calling out of work.
It's been 2 1/2 weeks since I've started working behind a desk again and try as I may - things aren't fitting the same way as they used to. Never giving consideration to the fact that the professional wardrobe that has been sitting in the back of my closet for 10 years has passed it's expiration date.
The skirts, they can be salvaged for a skirt is a skirt no matter what decade it is. The blouses and other dresses, are all totally 1990'ish and need to be phased out.
But when did girls stop wearing panty hose? Thankfully, my legs are tan and in great shape but I sure wish someone had informed me before I left the house looking like a drag queen.
My husband Jon, he's having weird thoughts and perverted notions since I've returned to work, and it's freaking me out a bit. He has seen me decked out for a night on the town, going to church and kicking it casual quite often. By golly he has even spied me in just my birthday suit.
This executive/secretary look must really be bothering him for he has been trying to rip my clothes off for the past 2 1/2 weeks! Seriously, I can barely get out the front door without him growling and showing his teeth. What is it? The heels? The skirt? The blouse? My hair up? The bifocals?
I found this cool thing-a-ma-jig over at Butchie's blog and it had me laughing for the better part of the morning. It's simple, just upload a photo of yourself and check out the many ways you would have appeared in a High School Yearbook over the years.
When I first saw myself at 1950, I was astounded! It appears almost exactly like my maternal grandmother's photographs that she has of herself.
1966 was the year before I was born, but the poofy greatness of the hairstyle at that time almost totally switches my resemblance over to my paternal grandmother's old photographs.
1968 a year after I was born and I'm again astonished for if I held my own Mother's '65 HS graduation photo beside this one - there wouldn't be any difference!
Flash forward to 1976 and may the heaven's have mercy, that doesn't just look like me - that WAS me back in that era.
My own HS graduation photo isn't far off from this one!
Of course, this thing-a-ma-jig wouldn't be so fun if they didn't throw in a few shocking renditions in the mix.
Remind me to never, ever get my hair permed or pick out a pair of horned rimmed eyeglasses!
Stealing this Meme from the beloved Dr. John who stole it from Melli who stole it from.....
It's been so long since I've done a meme, I think this is the way it goes:
1. What is the dumbest thing you have ever done with your cellphone?
Dropped it in the toilet! Not that this dumb action was planned or anything. What is really gross is the fact that I fished it out, found it still worked - wiped it off and still use it!
2. Favorite sit down restaurant? For some reason or another, I'm really enjoying dinner at Applebee's. Even when it's packed, the ambiance feels quiet in there.
3. Bubble gum flavor of choice? Only if it is bubble gum Wudder Ice! Now if you don't know what Wudder Ice is, then I'll assume you've never experienced Philly properly. Now that I work for a tour company, let's make it happen.
4. What do you want to be when you grow up? It would be far easier to list what I don't want to be when I grow up.
5. The most excitement you had this week? I ain't telling! Let alone give out details.
6. What do you usually order at Taco Bell? Chicken Chalupas and Nachos Grande.
7. Have you ever sat all the way through Gone With the Wind? Yes, twice. Some old lady friend made me go out and rent it to watch with her. A year later, she forgot and made me go rent it again.
8. When was the last time you were up all night? Two weeks ago, playing around with my webcam. I'm considering trying my hand at Vlogging, but am scaring myself silly.
9. Where is your favorite place? I love my bed. It's huge, soft, cushy and it holds all of my dreams.
10. Do you ever think about the price of gasoline? Honestly, I don't pay it much mind. I noticed a sharp decline in Stepford Wives swaying all over the road in their Land Rovers, yapping on their cell phones while applying mascara. I walk to work, my husband falls out of bed into his home office desk each morning. Gas will have to be $10 a gallon before I raise my eyebrows at it.
11. Do you sleep with a fan on? Yes, it is a must. The air must move. Especially the husbands expelled air from areas unmentioned. The noise of the fan also helps to drown out the sound of expelled gases and snores.
12. What is the best thing about winter? Cuddling up! Whether said cuddling is with a loved one, your favorite flannel pajamas and a favorite book. On your favorite easy chair with a hot cup of cocoa. Lots can be said for the act of cuddling.
13. How often do you hold back from saying what you are thinking? Fairly often. I have a habit of thinking before I speak. Our mouths can get us into a whole lot of trouble if we don't.
14. How many states have you been to? Eighteen. The original 13 plus an extra five. I'm an eastern seaboard kind of gal and love every state from Maine to Florida.
15. Are you currently planning a trip? Accck! I now work for a tour company - planning trips is part of the job description. I just pray to God that my boss won't send me off on one of them. 'Especially the 9 day Senior citizen trip to New England to see the autumn leaves changing. I'll flat out die!
16. Who was the last person you read something out loud to? Katie, it's an all-the-time thing. She'll be reading on her own soon enough so I'm enjoying it while I can!
17. Are you holding back anything? Hehe, why would you want to know that?
18. Have you ever googled your name and found somebody? I found myself and exclaimed "Oh my gosh, how did that get in there?!!!"
19. Who's your number one on your top friends? Tiiiiinnnnaaaa!
20. What makes you feel like you are young again? Having a five year old.
21. Do you ever type "kik" or ";p';" instead of "lol"? WTF do they mean? LOL! =O)
22. Do you know how to play chess? Yes, shhsssh... don't tell anyone.
23. What's on your mind right now? I'm hungry so what is in my pantry/fridge that will fix that?
24. Do you want to take something back that happened in the last week? I did tell Jon something that was true - but in anger none the less - that may come back to bite me.
25. Plans for tonight? Sleep tonight. Tomorrow night is a different story if Jon doesn't bite me.
26. Last place you were at? Work. We were all kicked out and sent home early! Slow day.
27. Last person you talked to on the phone? I can't remember, I've been on the dreaded phone most of the day playing receptionist.
(Sigh) There! Got my meme fix in. Anyone else dare to do it?
A fellow blogger emailed me on the side to ask what happened to the Mr. & Mrs. IOH saga and my previous job of taking care of this beloved elderly couple. As some of you know Mr. IOH passed away on Good Friday this past March. On the very day his wife, Mrs. IOH came home from the hospital/rehab from a broken hip and was happy to be home and get back on her feet again.
A few blog posts here and there have hinted upon how quickly her health deteriorated since her husband's death. It was a very difficult time for her most of all, but emotionally and physically draining for me as well.
Mrs. IOH had passed away on June 5th. A week after we moved into our new house. Two days after Squirt's last day of Pre-K and on to summer vacation. Three days before Jon was to finally graduate college.
That week my entire life as I've known it for the past four years, screeched to a sudden halt.
I've yet to write about it. I've yet to find the right words. I've yet to have closure. Mrs. IOH was a true and trusted friend and I loved her so much. Her family hasn't buried her or had a service yet and it has been over two months.
I'm dealing, but barely.
I will find the words, but for now they are all just so big that I can't fit them easily in a 10 minute read blog post. However, I do assure you - they will come.
Aaahhh, the dreaded Monday is about to close its door and bring on Tuesday! It has been almost an entire ten years since I've held down a desk job. Granted, most of my life I've been working behind a desk from Hotel/Resort Management, Accounts Payable and Human Resources. Even Walmart yanked me from the simplicity of a cash register and stuffed me at a desk inside of a huge walk-in bank vault called the "cash office."
So much has changed within office politics. Even the names of job positions have changed to fancy titles adding suffixes such as Administrator or Director of some sort. There also seems to be an added position in the office setting, the "IT Guy"
Now granted, ten years ago I remember the computer guy who sat in some messy desk back in the storeroom. He stuck his head out every now and then to reboot our Windows for Workgroups 3.1 or to tell us to shut down our computers when a thunderstorm was rumbling outside. We rarely ever needed him unless the Xerox machine was jammed.
In this new job, the IT guy happens to be outsourced. He's the guy who programed the entire database, handles the website/traffic and every now and then he'll come on by to change over a computer or help someone out with user issues. In fact if it weren't for their "IT Guy" I wouldn't have this job right now. For their "IT" guy is my husband Jon.
So this morning, the phone rings. It's some lady asking about what kind of group tours do we offer. She asked to see the website. She acted like an interested customer and led me to believe the conversation was heading towards a potential trip sale. Then all of the sudden she reeled me in, trying to sell me website marketing and promising to get the company's site top spot in the search engines.
I responded, "I'm sorry but our IT guy has all of this covered."
She quickly blurted, "Oh IT guys don't know anything about this type of thing. They work with computers, we use computers as tools for marketing."
"I'm sorry ma'am," I broke in, "but I am married to the IT guy."
She laughs then continues her sales pitch on Google analytics, market analysis and of things of this nature. While I kept on trying to assure her that we had our marketing covered across the board. Hitting top spot in all the search engines within our market.
She stopped and asked, "and how are you sure of all of this?"
"I'm married to the IT guy!" I answered.
That's when she realized that I was serious. She figured that "married to the IT guy" was just a figure of speech. For almost all offices today and positions within depend and need their IT guys so dearly.
Well folks, I did it. With two weeks left of summer vacation, Squirt ready to head off to Kindergarten and after enjoying these past few weeks being a kept woman - I've returned to work!
After 8 years of being wife, mom, domestic engineer, nurse and wearing many other odd hats, I'm back behind a desk and stinking up some office space!
I'm reaching in the back of my closet and pulling out the dusty, moth ridden professional wardrobe that shoved to the back a decade ago. There are two Hello Kitty bandaids behind both of my heels due to blisters from walking around in a pair of dress shoes all day.
What is my job title? I'd prefer to use the term "Information Administrator" but the current office residents consider me as the new girl sitting at the receptionist desk. They all know that they need a warm body but I don't believe any of them are aware whether they like me or not.
I prefer it to be that way. To remain a mystery and without definition. Hard to read.
I did not return to work to make any friends. I could have easily joined a garden club or knitting circle instead to make friends. No, instead I am there to chalk up another experience on my ongoing resume' and to bring home a paycheck.
One week down and I'm trying to distinguish what is the right level of socialization within this particular office environment. Now, it's not that I'm anti-social. No, I'm just anti-bullshit and anti-drama. I do not want either on me or around me.
What I do want is that pretty, shiny, red Swingline Stapler without going through an Epic Hobbit adventure.
Carlos posted a funny quirk on his blog a few days ago about a song that he, or I for that matter, haven't heard in many years. As much as I should be, I'm not ashamed to admit that the song rocked my socks off back then....
... as well as now!! So just to gross my heavy metal rockin' husband out I made up this little video for him to see while he is out of town on business.