SPACED OUT

Five years ago, when I bought my computer, I thought I was on cloud nine. I even had the audacity to imagine I had all the bells and whistles I'd EVER need. Boy, was I barking up the wrong tree.

Turns out, that when I made that purchase, way back then, the thought of a WHOLE BIG 28 gigabytes of hard drive space was for SURE, going to keep me in good stead for ever. What a jerk I was. Here I am, five years later... with not even enough hard drive left on my computer to deFRAG the darn thing! Where did all the space GO, anyway?? Ummm... apparently, I didn't have a digital camera nor iTunes way back then. Not to mention the hordes of other applications I've since downloaded.

Enter: New Computer! YIPPEE. I called Mitch last week, told him to mosey on over here and let's sit down to go over specs for ordering a new Dell processor. We went online, he told me exactly what to buy, we placed the order, he came over a few days later, set up the new processor, installed programs and migrated data from the old hard drive to the new, and WHAMMO. I'm now computing with a drive that has... get this... 250 gigabytes of free space!! And, 3 megabytes of memory. And, I've got dual processors. Plus, a read/write CD and DVD. Now, if THIS doesn't last me a nice lonnnnng while, then for sure, I'm up the creek.

So far, I'm loving the machine. Of course, it took me four full days to find the light for the CAPS key, but whatever. I've been sitting in front of this deal for the past three days like a major geek, going through my C:/ directory, organizing it to make sure I have all the data and software right smack where it's supposed to be. Which reminds me... I was a MAJOR idiot for not having first backed up several important files before Mitch did the migrating bit, but THAT I'll just have to live with. I'm not going to let a simple thing like losing all my registration numbers for all SORTS of applications deter me from adoring my new computer. I SHOULD let it, but I'm not. Talk about stuffing one's head deep into the sand.

So, given this brand new set up, pretty spiffy and all, you'd almost think that from now on, my entries should be kinda spiffy, TOO. Well... THAT I can't promise. But, I DO promise to whip them out as fast as I can, since now, my brain is working at top speed and the computer is processing at even topper speed. (like my new vocabulary invention?) I promise to enjoy all the gadgets I've got going here and I especially promise never to do away with one hard drive before I back up important files from the old hard drive. Talk about being a quick learner! Even now, though, I can't beLIEVE I forgot to do that. I'm so not happy for instance, that all my icon programs/files are kaput. You have NO idea how I miss my Elvis shortcut icon pointing me to where else? Why to my music files, of course!! Long live the King. Who, now that I think of it, was also pretty spaced out.

I'M A REDNECK

I like to write "in the moment". And, right now, this is my moment. I just now came in from spending over an hour watering my trees... with the sun absolutely BLAZING down upon my body! Thus I am now, apparently a full fledged Redneck. Literally. I'm like sporting the reddest damn neck you ever freakin' saw.

My entire BODY should only become so red, so it could then become tan, and boom. I'd be a fit looking, bronzed-out sort of lady. However, no such luck. It's just my neck that's fire engine red. I think, anyway. I can't believe it.... for a college educated, well traveled, pretty worldly kinda lady... man, am I ever creating a whole new dimension for myself.

And, get this... it's after 6:00 p.m.!! So, WHY THE F IS THE SUN STILL OUT, ANYWAY?? Like, no where NEAR setting??? Man, this is crazy. Right now, at this hour of the day, you could absolutely get the strongest rays possible. MAN, I HATE DAYLIGHT SAVING TIME. Give me dusk and/or twilight as I'm making dinner ANY day of the week! Isn't the Sun God, Apollo, working overtime, here? Besides, who ever heard of needing protection from skin cancer at THIS hour of the day?? It's like a double whammy going on with me.

On the other hand, I imagine the people across the street are pretty damn chipper that it's still light outside. They've just moved in and about three hours ago, their moving van arrived with all the contents of their house. Oh yeah... I've already determined they have a king sized bed, given I thought I saw them carrying in what could be the mattress. Pretty much all the rest was in boxes, so I can't be too sure of the other goodies. I haven't see the big furniture yet though, so, I can't really tell what their decorating sense is all about. THAT I'll find out when I head over there some day to welcome them to the neighborhood. Anyway, given the sun still radiating like a crazy ass ball of fire, the movers will EASILY be able to unload the van until oh... about 11:00, I'd say.

So, I guess I needn't get all dolled up and head out to the County Club anytime soon. Given I'm a Redneck to the nth degree now, better I should instead, consider heading out to a rodeo. Or to pot bellied pork races. Or SOMEthing. I don't even know. Where DO Rednecks hang out, anyway? I'd like to know, given I kinda want introduce myself and make all sorts of new friends. It's like the old adage... birds of a feather, flock together. Hence, count me in.

THE BIG O

Uh... not THAT O. The other one. As in: Oprah. I just can't believe I've got to make a new rule about watching her show. More to the point... I need a rule to have a box of Kleenex next to me whenever I watch her show. Just in case.

Apparently, I'm a big cry baby. Well, not always, but CERTAINLY on days when she has never before met family reunions or soldiers coming back from war or twins who never met each other or etc. etc. Every time I see these kinds of deals... I cry like a baby. For people I don't even KNOW.

And, It's not only her show. It could be any show. But, I am so telling you, I am a major sucker for wonderful things happening to people who've carried crazy ass burdens for long times. Okay... case in point. Just the other day, Oprah had this show about children of men who made anonymous donations to a sperm bank. Zillions of mothers were ever so thankful, given they could then, have children. However... guess what... eventually, the kids grow up and hence, have nagging pangs of wondering who their REAL father is.

Enter: Oprah. She had a bunch of adult children on her show and some of them have indeed, met their real fathers. But... most haven't. And, want to. Subsequently, there is some website where people can go to hopefully solve the puzzle. As a result, there was this brother sister duo, who were born from sperm donations of the same father and never even CONSIDERED they could have siblings.

Bingo... they finally meet. Boom... I cry like a baby when they do. I just can't get over how much the happiness these strangers feel, can pull on my sentimental heartstrings. It's like SUCH a wonderful moment for them, and I'm just so happy to see such emotionally thrilling moments. After waiting a life time to see or meet friends, relatives, human angels, whatever... Whamo. It happens. And when it does, my eyes well up because it's like the all time happiest day of their lives. Who WOULDN'T tear up? Even today, I got a little choked up when David Letterman was talking about how his father would have given his eye tooth to have seen the DAVID LETTERMAN BUILDING OF COMMUNICATIONS at his college campus.

I so love this. I especially love my local news channel, when it shows the homecoming of men and/or women who have been fighting for our country. Kinda like the lady who graduated college in Orlando the other day, and as a surprise, her soldier son was flown in to hand over her diploma. This is SO up my alley! Gulp. Uh... pass the tissues, please.

Actually, I guess I shouldn't be all that amazed at myself for crying and loving these moments... I absolutely LOVE happy surprises. Of course, I love them even more when they're MY surprises, but whatever. As long as people are crying with joy, what could be better??

ANTZ

I never saw the movie, but I can almost assure you... no matter how many ants were in it, I have far surpassed them in the amount that's in my kitchen. It's crazy.

About a month ago, I began noticing baby sugar ants. Next thing I know, there are about 15 billion relatives joining them. All, interested in munching on ANYthing thing that was sitting upon my counter top. I have never SEEN so many. And, I've never been so freaked. As it happens, I leave food out alllll the time. Ex: a large chocolate chip cookie can last me all day long. I break off a piece, pop it into my mouth, leave the rest on the counter, and bingo. I have a snack out at all times, ready for the NEXT bite I'll be taking.

Well, I'm sorry to say... it's not actually working out that way any longer. NOW... I'm into heavy protection of every morsel of food that is either intentionally or accidentally left out on the kitchen counter. It's like me against the ants and believe you me, I'm sorry to say... the ants are winning.

Enter: TERMINEX. I had a coupon, got a recommendation from a friend, called the company, asked for Mr. Jeff, and boom. He was out the next day. YIPPEE. The battle had begun. Well, the battle of the insects, that is. I wasn't too sure about the battle of the sexes... I began to kinda sense that Mr. Jeff was a little to chummy for a first visit yesterday, and hmmm... didn't know exactly what to think. Thus, I REALLY went into battle mode, creating all sorts of stories, to be sure that HE was sure, I had something along the lines of a nine foot sumo wrestler living with me. Hence... he was protecting my home. I was protecting myself. Of course, why any 40 year old would possibly want to get chummy with an old 60 year old lady like me, is beyond my comprehension, but, so be it. Besides, maybe it was all my imagination. Uh... I hope, anyway.

What isn't my imagination however, is the ANTS. They're WELL on their way out of here, by now. Thank God. FINALLY, I'll be able to have all kinds of food, lining every inch of kitchen space, if I wanted, and will be able to know... it'll finally be ant free! I won't be sharing my goodies with anything crawling around on all fours, any longer. Or on all tens. Or however many legs insects have. Who the hell knows. All that matters, is there will be PLENTY of ant free foods in my kitchen, now. Yippee. Am winning the ant war, afterall.

ROUGHING IT

I had a pretty rough day today. It all began with my finally getting out of bed around 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Well, okay. Maybe it wasn't all that rough after all. I did get out a couple times earlier, however, but that was to merely grab a cookie or a Diet Coke, or some other fine health food. I kept getting caught up in different crappy movies. But, movies that basically fit my low standards for damn good entertainment.

Then, I watched a movie I REALLY love... The Other Boleyn Girl. It's like a favorite book of mine. Anyway, I got through the first 25 minutes of it, and boom. Next thing I know, I fell right smack back to sleep. FINALLY about 1, is when I decided I finally had had plenty of sleep, thus was ready to hop out of bed and start my day. Not bad for a lazy ass woman, huh?

I straightened the house a bit, took a shower, gave myself a manicure, did some work at the computer, ate another cookie and another Diet Coke. Oh... by the way, don't ever eat prunes, salad and leftover hot dogs/beans in the same day. You'll be in the bathroom 100 times in four short hours. Also... don't ask me how I know. Just trust me on this one.

I think my stomach woes may have begun a couple of days ago when I got up EARLY to have blood drawn for my sugar level test. I always make the appointment for FIRST thing in the morning. That way, I get to limit my fasting from the night before to like only 7 hours, during most of which time, I'm fast asleep. It's the only way I could EVER go that long without something in my mouth. Anyway, a crazy thing happened to me when I went to the medical lab.

There I was, rubber tubing wrapped around my upper arm, ready to have the needle draw out the blood and bingo. In walks a guy with a HUGE BOX OF KRISPY KREME DOUGHNUTS! Talk about eyes lighting up! He was actually asking the technician to please deliver it next door when everyone arrives for work. I, instead, was asking UH... AM I ALLOWED TO HAVE ONE?? To which the guy said yes. Which I found sort of ironic, given there I was, having a test done for my blood sugar levels and WHAT IN THE WORLD could possibly have more sugar than glazed doughnuts??? Naturally, I had them draw the blood first THEN ate the poisonous sugar.

Oh yeah... one last thing. Right after the lady was finished with me she asked: DO YOU LIKE EARRINGS? Next thing I know, she's showcasing all SORTS of earrings and bracelets she's made at home. Thankfully, I found none that sparked me, but as soon as I said NO THANK YOU, she then asks: DO YOU LIKE SHOES?? Can you believe this?? I'm in a regular store front business here, or something! There is NO way the doctors upstairs know what's doing down in the lab, believe me.

On the other hand, it was quite a lovely way to start the day. A delicious doughnut, a lovely array of jewels and an almost array of shoes. Definitely three of my all time favorite things in the world. No wonder my stomach is doing flip flops.

HORTICULTURE

I am now a freakin' horticulturist, damnit. I so never wanted to be this. But... I've got no choice. I HAVE to be one. Like, at any moment now, I'm thinking I may need to become a lifetime member of the 4-H Club. Jeez... this is DEFINITELY crapola, if you ask me.

Naturally, this all points back to my landscaping woes.

Okay... so I've sorta, kinda, almost, but not really, made peace with the fact I have to water my 40 trees every other day. Which as I've mentioned none to many times before, takes like an hour and a half. During YOGA time, no less. Which, yes, means I'm looking crappier and crappier by the day, given I no longer have time for maintaining this aging, drooping body of mine . On the other, I MAY be seeing the light at the end of the tree watering tunnel, sometime in the near future. Thank God. BUT... until then, I've ALSO got this garden landscaping deal now going on.

The garden flowers, all beautiful and colorful, planted mostly in the front of my house, basically needed not nearly so much time consuming attention as the trees. At first, anyway. Yes, I have to water the flowers every other day, but THESE, I can get away with, watering in pretty much, a mere 25 minutes. Boom. I'm done. NOW, however, I can see I'm going to be spending way more time in the garden than I ever wanted.

Case in point: I now see that practically all the leaves on the different species of the fabulous blooming plants have major HOLES IN THEM!! As in: aphids, beetles, ladybugs, God knows what else, happily and continually chomping away at the plants' leaves. The insects are like having a field day, basically making a delightful smorgasbord of my entire garden. Ergo: leaves on plants look pretty much like Swiss cheese. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?? So, not only am I watering everything else until I'm ready to throw up, but NOW I have to become a crazy ass plant specialist!!

Off I went to my local plant center this morning, selecting all kinds of plant insect sprays, forced to actually LEARN about how to spray, when to spray, where to spray. Get this.. the directions actually want me to be sure to spray not only the tops of the leaves, but the UNDERsides of all the leaves, too. Yeah... like THAT'S ever going to happen. They think I'm going to be TURNING OVER EACH OF THE 4 BILLION LEAVES for their spray medicine??? Whoa. F that!!

Bottom line??? I'm now watering the 40 trees, watering garden plant blooms, APPLYING MEDICINE to the garden bloom leaves and simultaneously, readying to shoot myself. All I know, is that I drive down the street all over the city and everyone ELSE'S garden is to die for. As if Adam and Eve themselves are tending to its remarkable beauty.

Mine?? It's like presenting me with challenges by the hour. I can only hope that the worst is over and within days, I'll be seeing blooms and leaves as spiffy as when they first went into the ground. That way, they'll soon be looking as great as the trees. And, maybe my grass. Which, by the way, I'm watering as we speak. I know... yet ANOTHER branch of horticulture about which I'm learning. Am telling you... pretty soon I'll be considering entering something from the outside my house in the State Fair. I so better win, too!

BARF, BARF

I swear to God... this is the second time today I looked out my front window and saw two separate people walking their dog. With... however... not the dog on all fours, struttin' down the street, like you'd normally expect. BUT... are you ready for this??... with their precious little pooches actually sitting upright, catching all the views, happy as a lark IN A BABY STROLLER!!! I am absolutely stunned. The PEOPLE are walking. The DOGS were relaxing like hell, as if on a sightseeing tour!! I swear... I couldn't believe my eyeballs! WHEN DID ALL THIS BEGIN?? This is a new trend?? Oh my God... this so blows my mind.

Now, I realize.... there are ZILLIONS of people who absolutely adore their dogs as if they were real babies. I, myself, can't hook into this sort of feeling, but whatever. I have friends who cook for their pets, sleep with their pets, travel with their pets, put animal diapers on their pets, and do God knows what else for their pets. The list goes on and on. As for ME... you'd so never see me crossing such lines between two legged children and four legged ones. To think I'd even allow shedding in my house, is beyond my imagination. TO SLEEP WITH A PET?? Oh my God... you'd have to shoot me before I'd do anything like that.

BUT, TO PUT THE DOG IN A STROLLER?? Are you kidding me???? Forget about saying to the dog YOU WANT TO FOR A WALK and then grab the leash. We're now talking about asking: YOU WANT TO GO FOR A STROLL?? Okay. Jump into the carriage! Actually, I was dying to run out the front door and say to the people: WHOA. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?? But, since I'm so not into creating major enemies with my neighbors, I figured I had best keep my big mouth shut.

Exactly how the dog is able to actually GO FOR A WALK, to do what he's supposed to do on a walk, I have no clue. Promise me there's no elimination hole the stroller so the doggie can complete his mission as if he were on an airplane, whereby everything just flushes out into thin air. Which brings me to wonder... like how many nights, do you think those who stroll their dogs, rather than walk them, are awakened at 2:00 a.m., only to find the lovely little canine tugging at them, asking to be taken out?? After all, he/she didn't get a chance earlier, when they SHOULD have had one, given the stroller deal.

Man, this is so weird. Talk about sitting in the lap of luxury! Trust me... I should be treated so royally! Which only makes me think: arf, arf, for them... has definitely turned into barf, barf, for me.

AM ON THE MAP

I'm a tourist stop this weekend. Well, not ME, per se, but the house, two doors down from me. All kinds of people have been working there for the past month, to prep for this weekend's festivities. In fact, in about an hour, two friends and I are headed over there to check it out.

The house in question is new, and for sale. And, since it is still empty, a bunch of organizations selected it as their Showcase House for a very interesting event. Get this... the entire house... pretty big, I might add... has now been decorated completely with Thrift Store items. The whole house! Can you imagine?? Anyway, your first pay your entry fee, you walk in, to case out the house, and then bingo. Should you eventually want to purchase a decorative item, Bingo. They'll happily take your money from you. All proceeds going to some charity, I suspect.

Okay. So they're having this wonderful event. In the meantime, care to guess just how many cars are PARKED ALL DAY LONG, UP AND DOWN MY STREET?? IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE?? Don't ask. You wouldn't believe it. All of a sudden, I'm a snappy tourist stop. They even have these van like buses that bring people in and out of my development all day long! Is that crazy or what?? Actually, should I ever want to become REALLY infamous, I guess I could make a huge sign, plop it right smack onto my front lawn, and encourage the folks to: COME IN, FREE. MEET THE ONE, THE ONLY... WOMAN OF ALL THINGS EXCEPTIONAL. Which reminds me... if some tall, dark, astoundingly handsome gentleman should walk through the door, I might then be happy to entice him into something REALLY exceptional. Never say never.

When I went outside, late last Thursday afternoon, in my crappiest clothing ever, to water all my front lawn plants, I had no idea there was a sort of PRE EVENT dealie about to begin ... a cocktail party for the organizations' big shots, I guess. I sort of felt badly that I had to be the first person they saw since I was SO not a welcoming sight. In fact, I was way more UNsightly. But... after the first 25 cars parked right smack in front of me, I sorta began to get the idea.

I have two more days of this touristy bit, to go through yet. I can't really bitch, however, since for all I know, it's a one time event AND it's making money for good causes. BUT... if they DO have an event here next year, you can be SURE I'll be having the biggest garage sale you ever f-ing saw. Can you IMAGINE the hordes of customers I'd get?? The house near me will be raising money for their own selfless benefit. I, on the other hand, will be raising money for my OWN personal benefit. Soooo damn typical of me. But... interesting financial strategy, nonetheless.

MITCH THE GENIUS

See this picture?? There is no way you can appreciate it in all it's full glory from just this small shot. But... believe me, it's absolutely incredible. It belongs to Mitch.... the world's all time best computer genius. What he can do in an hour at your computer, would take anyone else a good four days to accomplish. Which is why I love him so... he gets in, performs technical magic equal to that of any NASA engineering feat, and boom. Your computer is running like never before.

I can't believe how lucky I am to have found him. Which actually, was sort of by accident, given the FIRST call I made was to a gentleman who happened to be out of town. ENTER: Mitch, the substitution. Talk about a lucky break. Consequently, for the past five years, Mitch has been intimately active with my personal computer.

As it happens, Mitch was here, that infamous day recently, when I wanted to blow up the entire universe engulfing all of BellSouth. Now known as your new AT&T, by the way. When here, he was showing me some web sites, amongst them... his own. Now THAT was a treat, if ever there was.

During our playtime, we came across this photo which IMMEDIATELY made me almost jump out of my seat. Nonchalantly, Mitch mentioned that this was... uh, oh yeah... a picture of his very own computer. I nearly DIED. What?? This belongs to someone other than the Pentagon?? A computer set up this HUGE??? Boy, was I ever impressed! Granted, I'm impressed easily, but man... this was aMAZing to me! Did you ever SEE a tower such as this one? I GUESS it's his tower. Who the hell knows. By the looks of it, maybe this is the mainframe for running our entire friggin' CITY for all I know! Oh yeah... according to Mitch, he's also got lights strung all over the inter workings, which supposedly, turns this tower into Las Vegas or something.

And.. as if THAT wasn't enough, Mitch then shows me online, a real time shot taken by a web cam of his... pointed straight out the front window of his house, giving you a bird's eye view of the exact weather for the moment, with all the statistics listed right below. I was in computer geek heaven! I can't even IMAGine what his computer room must be like. Let alone his house. Every techie gadget known to man??? Talk about being green with envy!

All I know is... it's way too bad you don't live near me. You'll never get to know Mitch, let alone, get to have him come help you out of every computing glitch on the face of the earth. And, in record time, too. So, basically, to all my loyal readers and supporters... don't thank ME for the pleasure of my blog entries. It's Mitch to whom you owe a heap of gratitude. Without him... I'd be pecking away at some sort of oldie goldie Underwood typewriter. God KNOWS I'd never be writing this by hand.

SWEETEST DREAMS

I realized, this afternoon, as I walking from the store... I have an obsession. Actually, it's not my ONLY obsession, granted, but it's one I never before knew I had.

For the umpteenth million time, I bought the MOST beautiful bed linens ever. Especially perfect for summer. For some reason, no matter how many complete sets of spreads, comforters, duvet covers, sheets, pillow cases, shams, and throw pillows I have, should I see ANOTHER beautiful set, boom. I have to buy it. Mainly because, I LOVE it so much! What? Me deprive myself of something I love?? Surely you jest.

Today was such a day whereby my inability to deprive myself kicked in. I wasn't PLANNING on buying a new bed set, but once I saw it, I just had to have it. It met all my requirements: silk like satin to the touch, lightweight enough for summer use, stunning color combinations, and soothing to look at. Uh... notice I never once mentioned price. Like that even MATTERS? Unfortunately, if it makes me shine, I never give price a second thought.

Anyway, today I bought the bed set you see up above. The picture can't POSSIBLY do it justice, but I it love to no end. I couldn't WAIT to get home and put it on my bed. Better yet, I can't WAIT to climb into bed tonight! I'm especially looking forward to the sheets. They are sooooo smooth and comfy, it's going to be fabulous. Of course, I'm already freaked at just the THOUGHT of the first time I have a major food spill on the linens. Just what I need... mustard and ketchup staining this wonderful ensemble for the rest of my life.

Which means... maybe I should make a rule: Never eat, smoke or drink in my bed. EEEEKS. Who the hell could ever follow THOSE kind of rules?? Oh man... this is going to be some commitment, I see. On the other hand, tonight is such an utterly amazing evening... temperatures in mid 70's, breezes aplenty, full moon ... that sleeping in my new bed is going to feel so luxurious and sensual. Thus I think that by default, I BETTER make that commitment, after all.

Bottom Line?? I had better hurry up and finish the load of the previous fabulous linens that are now in the wash. Then I need do my yoga, take my shower and whammo! HOP INTO BED! Ahhhh... no wonder I love sleeping so much.

A WOMAN CRAZED

Maniacal. Suicidal. Confrontational. Enraged. Insane. Furious. And, oh yeah... Livid. Uh... you get the point.

I was OUT OF MY MIND today and am this far from shouting like an F-ing mad woman, should anyone cross my path. I CAN'T BELIEVE what the tech support at BellSouth put me through today. I don't even have the will to tell you about it. Were I to relive the saga via the written word, I might go out, buy a shot gun and do myself in.

Suffice it to say, after 3 and a half hours ON THE G/D PHONE with BellSouth, I finally had had it and let all hell break loose. As in: raised my voice, swore like a sailor, and carried on like a major idiot. UP to that point, I had behaved like a darling, little debutante/socialite. But, after reaching my breaking point.... whoa. My sanity went into a complete meltdown mode, and I was quickly up for a part in the Exorcist.

Okay... so once they realized they were dealing a lady from Rosemary's Baby, the people at BellSouth THEN decided to send someone out IMMEDIATELY to see what the hell the trouble with my DSL line was all about. Of course at FIRST, they wanted to send me a new modem via second day mail to which I said... OH NO, YOU F-ING WON'T. You send it to me NEXT DAY MAIL, ONLY!! Oh, okay... hold on one second, Miss Crazy Ass Lady... let me check with my supervisor.

The supervisor must have had an EAR FULL from the tech lady to whom I spoke for three hours, because like I said, the next thing I know, they tell me, they're going to send a REAL LIVE PERSON out to my house TODAY, sometime before five. Finally. They got the message; this was no ORdinary lunatic bitch. Wanna guess how long the Real Live Person was here, trying to fix things?? Think: 3 MORE G/D hours!! Finnnnnnally... the guy says: Okay, maybe it IS a faulty modem, after all. DUH. Damn RIGHT it is.

Boom. New modem. Problem solved. And... it shocks me to no end that it was done before I actually STRANGLED THE GUY. I am soooo telling you. Even now, over two hours later, I'M STILL in a state of fury. Which reminds me... impressed with my anger management skills?? Uh... me neither. It was embarrassing, let me tell you. BUT, on the other hand... talk about being pushed to the point of no return.

Okay. Maybe I'm beginning to calm down a bit. I'm not a 100% sure yet, but maybe. Slowly but surely, anyway. Hopefully, calm enough to get BellSouth... I mean, the new AT&T... to give me some free month's credit in turn for my not blowing up their office. Which would have been a big problem... the office to which I was speaking the very first three hour go around was located in... get this... the Phillipines. Hence....not only federal law troubles, but I assume international, as well.

Bottom line: Good bye $60 monthly cable line bill... hello DSL line at half the cost. See? There really IS a silver lining to any cloud. Man. Thank God THIS day is over.

BREAK THE FAST

I made a discovery yesterday morning. Breakfast really DOES work. Who knew? As it happens, I NEVER eat breakfast, and if I do, it's certainly never before at least 11 o'clock. That way, I'm not only open to breakfast invites, but to lunch as well. I then eat dinner anywhere from 6 o'clock on. Not counting my snacks, of course.

I came across this discovery by sheer accident. I woke up early yesterday. And I was STARVED. And... I was craving a bowl of cereal. Something I haven't eaten in years. Way back in my career days, I ate cold cereal every morning of my life, but that was like a lifetime ago. Anyway, like I said, I was starved, thus I poured myself a great bowl of Total, sprinkled with some Grape Nuts and boom. I was in cereal heaven. Then, much to my surprise... I WAS FULL FOR THE REST OF THE DAY. Eeeeks. I was shocked. Not to mention stuffed.

Well, only until later in the day, when I heard about Tim Russert, at which point, I felt it necessary to down some Ruffles. Full, or not. But, that's a whole new story, altogether. I just can't believe an early morning breakfast would really work on me, for an entire morning AND afternoon. It almost makes me think the nutritionists actually know what they're talking about AFTERall.

Oh yeah... I also made anOTHER discovery yesterday, too. I found out that I guess, due to Father's Day weekend, ALL THE PAY MOVIE CHANNELS ARE FREE THIS WEEKEND. As in: EVERY one of them have free viewing. YIPPEE!! Almost makes me wish I had no life... I'd LOVE to sit and stare at the TV all night and day, catching up on hordes of movies. I caught glimpses of Hair Spray, Ms. Potter, Grand Canyon, Sliding Doors and a couple of others.

Too bad I never had time to watch any of them until the very end, but as soon as I get home from the playhouse tonight, guess what I'm doing? Grabbing a bowl of cereal, turning into a couch potato and then watching every damn movie I possibly can!

AM IN SHOCK!

Jesus... I'm so stunned, that I can't even stop eating potato chips. There I was, happily working on mending a pair of slacks and boom. I channel surfed during a commercial only to find out Tim Russert died. I WAS STUNNED by the shocking news. WHAT?? AT HIS AGE??? HOW?? WHEN?? I was like out of my mind.

At first I thought it must have been his father, whom he was wild about. Then, the very next thought was: OH MY GOD... HE WON'T EVEN BE HERE FOR THE 2008 ELECTION! How the hell are we going to have election night without TIM??? God.. I'm like so nuts over this.

I'm also nuts over the fact that all aROUND me, people are kicking off right and left. And, YOUNG people, too. Well, young to ME, that is. Just this week I got news my first cousin died. Damn... couple that with my brother, her brother, my cousin herself, all dying right around 60, and Christ, I'm sick to my stomach. Have any clue how many of my friend's lost their husbands close to this age??

There was NO one who could analyze a political situation like Tim Russert. He cut right to the chase, and dissected the chase to a T. Man, this is simply crazy. I can't believe that his wife must have kissed him goodbye this morning, said HAVE A GOOD DAY AT WORK, HONEY and then EEEEKS. She gets news her husband collapsed forever. WOW. I'm so not in the mood to do yoga, now. I'm just way too stunned. AT 58??? IS THAT A JOKE?? Holy Sh%t. Am telling you now... do every damn thing in life you ever wanted. Next thing you know, you have no life. Man... this dying crap is killing me.

I'M A RADICAL??

I was a young college co-ed in the days of all sorts of demonstrations. Civil rights, anti-war, pro-abortion, free sex, etc. I was even around, during the earlier days when radio stations were actually breaking in half, Elvis Presley 45's records because they feared rock and roll would literally destroy the minds of teen-agers. Not to mention it could cause... heaven forbid... sexual activity. Now that I think of it, I should have warned them. Forget about the music bringing on premarital sex... we had already primo drugs to do THAT job for us.

Anyway, with all these demonstrations and even riots, there were plenty of radicals bouncing along the streets. Radicals in every venue possibly known to man. Often, I found these folks to be a bit too extreme for my particular comfort zone, but then again, I was a sorta upper classed, pretty much sheltered, college student, way too willing to do whatever it was that I was told. You've heard of the Stepford wives?? Uh...that was me, but a Stepford Student, instead.

Regardless... while watching the news tonight, I came up with an idea that frankly, sort of frightened me that I even thought of it! As in: EEEKS... that's a mighty crazy, radical idea you've got going there, Linda. The idea that raced through my head?? Get this...

While watching some sort of old guy, not particularly sophisticated nor particularly educated, I listened to him as he told why it was he was voting for a certain candidate. As I listened to him, I wasn't so much troubled by his choice for President (though he IS voting for the wrong person) as I was by the reasons he was giving for said choice. IT WAS RIGHT THEN that my scary, radical, crazy ass thought entered my head - NEW RULE: IF YOU'RE AN IDIOT, YOU CAN'T VOTE. How's THAT for wiping out more that 50% of the voting population?

Anyway, my radicalism went even farther. To be sure you're NOT an idiot, I created my personal, radical barometer: you've got to have AT LEAST not only a high school diploma, but in addition, have at least a B- average upon graduation! Naturally, I'd sorta like to ratchet up the stakes by considering the need for a college degree... but then I reclaimed my senses and realized that's DEFinitely a bit out of the box.

My thinking is: to escape my fear of our country ever re-electing a total a-hole, along the lines of George Dubbya, let's say, let's get some sort of control of the voters. As in: Okay... vote for whomever you like... BUT, if you can tell me that you've got SOME sort of brains (ergo: decent grade average and high school diploma) and then you STILL vote for an ass, okay then. So be it. HOWEVER, to let EVERY idiot become a part of the voting community, well then... hold on a second, here buddy boy. I then have a whole new worry. As in: what if there are way more idiots than high school grads, then YIKES. All the idiots then basically have way too much power in overriding the vote of those meeting my radical standards. ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.

I know... I know... this sort of thinking on my part is a really scary approach. It allows for a lot of bias, prejudice, elitism, law suits, etc. I could be shot for even suggesting it. On the other hand... given the complicated world we live in, and given the fact that wisdom in choice is so very important, why CAN'T we have some sort of intellectual standard?? Why CAN'T we set the bar a bit higher than merely reaching the age of majority? Okay... so don't shoot me. I get bizarre ideas, granted. On the other hand, before you elect another Bush Boy, perhaps you better check this out, regardless of your high school GPA. I'm Voting Republican Oh yeah... and don't write to yell at me. Am SO not into a war of words.

TRADEMARK TOOTH

When I was in my early 20's and supermodels were becoming THE thing in fashion, I fell in love with two icons in the fashion industry. One was Calvin Klein, probably the foremost modern American women's designer and the other was Lauren Hutton, the angel of the runway. I don't actually remember Lauren modeling for Calvin, per se, but she was just sooo beautiful that at one point in the late 70's, I actually had a picture of her on my refrigerator... obviously, way before the period I began hanging my kid's artwork on it.

In the picture, Lauren had her hair parted down the middle, pulled back at the neck, just like I wore my own hair for years and years and years. She was also sporting a pair of stunning, simple pearl earrings and her infamous trademark... a removable capped tooth. Lauren's REAL teeth have a major gap in the center front, so boom. The cap was employed. Man, was she ever a looker.

Then, just the other day, I saw a picture of Lauren, now 61, at some awards show, where she was presented with something or other. EEEEEEEKS. I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW SHE'S AGED! Sh#t.... even I almost look better. What the hell happened to her??? Granted, she mentioned how she hadn't had any sleep for 46 hours straight, but Jesus... give me a break. Even without sleep I had no clue Lauren could look like she did. I swear... something weird is happening here. Lauren even has her own line of makeup nowadays, not to mention a well touted interest in a lot fabulous sex... two items that DEFinitely brings a glow to one's face. Man, all I cant say is: I'M SHOCKED.

Oh yeah... I COULD have included a picture of Lauren with this entry, but I decided to go another route. Instead, I went with a shot of Calvin's mens' underwear, which as we all know are THE hottest advertisements in the country. In fact, they are so hot, I decided to include two. Uh... you can thank me later. Care to guess how many images I had to view via the net, just to settle upon these?? Trust me... HOURS. Of course, they were the best damn hours I've spent in a LONG time. Yeah, yeah, I SHOULD have shown you how crappy Lauren looks, but come on, now. These picts are WAY easier on the eyes.

A CUT ABOVE

So... after months and months of letting my hair grow, I decided it was time to get a haircut. Normally, I do this little tidbit of grooming all by myself. But then again, I also know when to let others do it. Enter: Angie. I needed her expertise, considering I wanted to not only have a stunning cut, but I also wanted to have slight layering and that I KNOW is not in my realm of possibilities. Angie, on the other hand is a major pro at such stuff.

When I called for an appointment, Angie couldn't take me, until a day later. Which meant I had to use all my energies to not break down and snip away at everything myself before Angie got to it. Unfortunately, patience is not high on my list. Yesirree... I am one of those people who are basically into wanting what I want, when I want, how I want, if you catch my drift. Thus, I had to use as much self control as humanly possible, to stay calm and collected and await Angie's professional abilities to do the deed.

In the meantime, THERE IT IS! The finished the product. See it in the pict?? According to Angie, it's what she calls "sassy". HUH?? Me sassy?? Man, is SHE ever thinking I'm someone I'm not. In the meantime, two inches are now gone and I'm so telling you... I am thrilled to no end. Especially since there is a MAJOR heat wave here and having my hair hanging down, upon my neck is a real killer. Oh yeah... which reminds me... given the heat, I haven't been out of my house in 4 days. I HATE THE HEAT. Which of course is why I left South Florida, who now is touting temperatures lower than where I am! Can you imagine?? What the hell's going on, anyway? What ever happened to those COOOOOL summer temps in the North Carolina mountains??

Regardless, am happy to say I love my short hair. I also love that I'm no longer blowing it out. I'm taking the lazy ass route... washing it, putting major globs of glue like gel in it, and scrunching it up like mad. Voila! The fly away, curly, outta control, SASSY look. Or... maybe just simply outta control. Matters not what I call it, however, for whatever attempt I make in stlying my hair, you can almost be assured that it's DEFinitely going to be the LAZY look... way more my style of choice.

ENOUGH, ALREADY

Wow. Talk about be careful for what you wish. For the past three months, I've bitched and complained about having to water my new trees. All 40 of them. And, all my new landscaped plants, too. Oh yeah... the tinge of brown on my lawn didn't thrill me any too much, either.

Anyway, I have to spend hours every other day, doing this watering job and boy. Do I ever hate it! It's hot. I'm tired. It takes forever... blah, blah, blah. Most of all, I stand there doing this crapola job, PRAYING it would rain. And I'm not praying for a sprinkle, either. I'm praying for a DOWNPOUR. How could we go three damn months with NO rain whatsoever??

Oops. Guess what. I got rain! A lot of it, too. Uh.... like maybe TOO much rain?? Oh my God... its been basically 24 hours of straight rain and now I'm actually worried! The roots are going to be way too soaked and rot?? EEEEKS. Say it ain't so.

God answered my prayers beginning just after lunch, yesterday. I loved the first hour of his taking over the watering bit. I even loved the second hour. But by the FIFTH?? Lord, I must have looked out the window a zillion times, checking to see which plants, if any, were in major overflow mode. It's been a day now, that the rains have been falling, and I can't even imagine how long this is going to go on. It better stop soon, though... my lawn guy will be here tomorrow to mow and I don't want the grass SO wet, it won't even cut. Already, I can see where the saying WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS, comes from.

What kills me most, however is that you never ever REALLY know when the forecasters are or are not going to be correct. Half the time they forecast possible thunderstorms, and bingo. NOTHING HAPPENS. Then, they tell me possible showers and the next thing I know, its raining for a full damn day. Uh... you think that's why they call it a PREDICTION?

I guess I shouldn't complain, though. I COULD be living, God forbid, in those area where the tornadoes are ripping entire cities apart on like a daily basis. Huh?? Who would even LIVE there, anyway?? Whoa... now, there's a weather story! But, alas, for another day, I'm afraid. For today, I'm grabbing my weather gauge and checking the rainfall. Uh... up to five inches, so far.

F THEM, F YOU, F THE WORLD

Man, am I steaming. I can't believe the f-ing hassle I'm having just to return two damn items via UPS. You would think it'd take one lousy call to schedule a pickup and boom. It would be over. But, NOOOOOOOO. It's gotta be fifteen calls to the company to which I'm mailing these return packages and then 12 calls to UPS, themselves.

Jesus... it's way too early in the morning for this crap, too. And here I was, thinking I'd start my day bright and early, happy and produtive... boom. In one mere hour and a half, my entire day is f-ed up. I'm in a crappy mood thanks to this hassle and I sorta feel like eating an entire batch of brownies to make it all better. Now THERE'S a remedy, if ever there was.

As if this hassle isn't enough, I also decided I'm sick and tired of all this automated B.S. in the first place. Where are all THE REAL PEOPLE?? Why can't I just tell them what I need, they say SURE and bingo... I'm a happy camper. Job done. Half the time, I can't even figure out my new fancy, schmancy cell phone. I have no clue what to do when there's a call waiting, how to get directly to a number in the calling list without scrolling down 400 numbers, blah, blah, blah. The list goes on and on. Even my iTunes library is giving me hassles. Another story, altogether. Oh yeah... I just popped three peanut M&M's in my mouth. That outta help.

So basically, I'm off to start my day. Let one person piss me off and ZING... I may have to let them have it. Too bad you can't spend the day with ME today, huh? Man, I'd be a barrel of fun.

Whew. I've let off steam. Okay... maybe I can now go back to the ever loving, easy going, always smiling lady that I am. Or... maybe not. I sorta like this bitching bit. It cleanses the soul.

LAWS OF MAN

AP: 2008-05-09 10:37:48
Rep. Vito Fossella (Republican) of New York acknowledged Thursday that he has a 3-year-old daughter from an extramarital affair. The revelation came after the Republican congressman, who has three children with his wife, was arrested on drunken driving charges.

YOU READING THIS??? IS THIS GUY NUTS, OR WHAT?? Can you IMAGINE what his wife and family are going through right now?? Trust me... the details get worse, so I suggest you check out the full story. I, for one, am soooo sick of all these politicians and their sexual scandals. Is it not enough that Congress has already served themselves so much better than they have served the public? They ALSO have to now be contemplating serving TIME, as well? Geez... this so pisses me off. Okay... I get it... very few actually WILL serve any time, but Jesus... I have just about had it up to here with this hypocrisy. Hello?? Elliot Spitzer, please. Oh... hi Elli... Vito here. Uh... I'm screwed. Any suggestions?

Now, don't get me wrong. I've been around the block a few times, thus haven't just come out from under a rock. I know that people innocently enough, find themselves in situations they didn't expect, weren't necessarily looking for, AND never wanted to share with the public at large. I also know that often, there actually ARE reasons people seek outside relationships yet don't dissolve marriages... children, financial, medical, social, whatever. BUT... ISN'T THIS THE ADMINISTRATION THAT IS SO HELL BENT ON BEING SO RELIGIOUSLY FAITH BASED? Aren't so many of these lawmakers touting how categorically Christian-like they expect the entire country to live? And, if we don't... we're banned to hell forever??

Man... this holier than thou crap just irks me. Again, not so much because I don't get it that life takes people on crazy ass twists and turns. But MUCH MORE because I keep finding out that it's these exact people, who are judging every OTHER person who has made a disapproving choice, yet who themselves turn out to be sheer scum.Who made THESE people judge and jury, anyway? ESPECIALLY since they see no connection between good for goose - good for gander. I can't beLIEVE these idiots are so damn strict for their constituents, but bingo... need to hurry up and vote, because Babs or Toots are somewhere, waiting. Except in Fossella's case... his girlfriend AND his secret child were waiting.

Anyway, I just ask that our congressmen STOP DOING CRAP that they THEMSELVES are so damn ready to blast others about. And, for God sakes... STOP BEING SO F-ING IMMORAL behind everyone's back, too. By the way, I don't care what anybody says... Senator Craig definitely had some kind of come on thing going on in that infamous bathroom stall. To me, the only contact one needs to make while in an airport bathroom is: Uh... can you please pass me some toilet tissue? Bingo. Conversation over. As for Mark Foley, don't even get me started.

Anyway, I was taking a break before I headed out to the garage, to finish some work. I figured I'd just log on and check email... and whammo! I'm hit with yet ANOTHER lawmaker bringing on personal chaos. I just couldn't control myself from venting... thus, this entry. Whew. Okay... I think I'm back on track now. I came. I vented. I'm done.

ZERO TO SIXTY

Care to guess what 60 looks like nowadays? Well, guess no more, my friend. There it is, right next to this text. Now, I'm not saying this is a particularly GREAT looking sixty, but regardless, there you have it. I remember my Grandmother being in her sixties... she never made it to her seventies... and man, did she look old. Kinda just like a Grandma should. Only NOW can I appreciate that probably, way back then, she might have looked damn GOOD, for all I know.

I of course have no clue, whether or not she actually CELebrated her 60th birthday, but you can be sure I AM! In fact, the celebration is just days away. I can't wait. In fact, the other day Claudia was over. We were meandering around my kitchen and I remember her asking: YOU GOING TO HAVE A BIRTHDAY CAKE?? I looked at her absolutely stunned... you need to even ASK such a question?? My God... birthday cakes are my all time favorite FOOD GROUP. Of COURSE I'm going to have a cake! Huh? Isn't that even the whole PURpose of a birthday? Forget the company of family and friends. Forget the probable presents. CAKE! THAT'S what it's all about, if you ask me. Oh yeah... that and ice cream! Chocolate, of course.

Do I feel sixty?? Well, uh... yes, actually. My sagging breasts are a lovely reminder. So are my trifocal glasses. My hearing is going downhill pretty fast, and nothing could make me happier than climbing into bed by 9:30 at night. SO not what I used to love. I'd much rather stay put than make travel plans and a delicious dinner can now easily consist of a melted cheese sandwich on pita bread. It goes without saying, I can't remember a damn thing anymore and my pleasure barometer for listening to my kid play his drums, is at an all time low. Oh yeah... and I'm like completely grey and/or white.

On the other hand, I'm the wisest lady on the block by now. I know what I'm all about and I know what I like and what I don't like. I COULD look a whole lot worse I guess, and there's not much you can tell me that would shock me, anymore. I get to pay senior citizen prices at the movies, and I can easily spot total idiots, thus I don't even bother arguing with them... I'm too old to waste my time. I've accumulated a horde of wonderful memories... some pretty spicy ones, too. Bottom Line: YIPPEE. I'm going to be having a great time on my 60th birthday! Who could ask for more?

Besides, if you ask me... I'm thinking, greater things are even yet to come. Case in point: today, I'm going to my girlfriend's beautiful wedding! And she's a decade older than I am! So, who says there isn't a whole lot of livin' yet to do?

I don't know exactly when God means to pull me outta this world, but I so telling you... I hope it's not any time TOO soon. Besides, if it IS sooner rather than later, I'll be kinda pissed. Afterall, how the hell would I know what I'd look like at SEVENTY??

ABOUT LAST NIGHT

Well, THAT was a crazy night. Seems as if God thinks maybe I need a little bit more drama going in my life, so boom, he likes to provide some.

All day yesterday, the day before Sonny Boy is ready to return to school, he was complaining about having to continously go to the bathroom, and having a funny feeling in his abdomen. Being the medical expert on All Things Treatable, I asked about his symptoms, etc. According to the Linda school of Medicine, I determined he must be courting a urinary infection. At which point I gave him an antibiotic specifically FOR this problem. Within hours you're supposed to feel a hell of a lot better.

Except many hours later, he didn't. Uh... could it be my medical training is slipping just a bit? EEKS. Well, at least I know to approach the higher ups, when needed. As in: see a REAL medical specialist, when all else fails. Hence, a couple hours after dinner, I suggested we high tail it to the emergency room to have a urine test taken so we can determine exactly what's going on. After all, I DO want to send my most loved human being back to school feeling in tip top shape. Enter: Emergency Room.

Geez... Now THERE'S a wait, if ever there was. I shan't get bogged down here in details, though trust me... I could give you an ear full up the kazoo. We DID learn something interesting, however. Don't EVER tell them you're kinda okay. Always tell the receptionist... OH MY GOD. THIS IS THE WORST PAIN I'VE EVER HAD. I NEED TO SEE THE DOC LICKETY SPLIT. Because if you don't... you'll wait... uh... like an hour and half to actually be seen. Sort of like we did. Anyway... the real story here is: also, don't believe everything the doctor's tell you. If you do, you might be misdiagnosed.

Reason? Because, get this... after speaking to us, getting the low down on everything, etc., etc., the doctor in fact, took a urine test. And although it DID prove negative for an infection, he was going to treat him for one, anyway, given the possibility. TIME OUT... HOLD ON, HERE. WAIT JUST A MINUTE, Mr. Emergency Room Doctor. If it's negative, then to ME that means something ELSE is amiss. Bottom Line: DO A CT SCAN!

Bingo. We had one done and... sitting down? No urinary infection, after all! DIVERTICULITIS instead! Oh my God. SO NOT A HAPPY THING. I should know. I've had these attacks which actually, even lead to some major surgery a while back. Okay... so we're dealing with a whole DIFFERENT problem, I see. Damnit. But, as the ole saying goes, all's well that ends well.

My child was diagnosed. Got his meds. He's feeling better. And he's headed back to Florida, as we speak. I, of course am sitting here, fingers crossed that he arrives there as healthy as he was when he arrived here. Afterall, I want my baby to be perfect on Mother's Day.

ALL GOOD THINGS....

... must come to an end. I can't believe it. After two months of having my son at home, he's headed back to school again. Damnit. I am so telling you... empty nest syndrome all over again. Which is too bad, given it's been a fabulous two months.

First of all, he IS amongst my all time favorite people. Second of all, he has major muscles, which is pretty handy when moving/lifting really heavy items. Third of all, he is definitely techie savvy, thus he was a HUGE help with my computer, my iPod, my television and my new cell phone. Fourth of all, he was more than happy to take over my most hated job... watering the trees. Fifth of all, he did he own laundry and was MUCH tidier than I ever remember. Sixth of all... I love him like crazy.

It's going to be really nuts after he's gone; I won't be hearing my favorite sound... the automatic garage door opening, signaling he's pulling up in the driveway. Of course, I also won't be hearing the buzzing of his remote control helicopter which is by far, his favorite toy. Nor will I be hearing Howard Stern each time I enter his bedroom. Worst of all, I'll have NO ONE TO DO MY ZILLIONS OF ERRANDS. Well, that's not completely true. Pat will resume those duties, thank goodness.

But... seeing him drive away the day after tomorrow, is definitely going to leave a pit in the bottom of my stomach. Yet, the best part of it all, is that he too, loved being here for all these weeks. We had a great time and many laughs. Only a couple of times did I have to tell him he's outta his ever loving, freakin' mind. Well, okay. Maybe three or four. But, still, I think that's is a pretty good ratio, all in all. Good bye watching South Park. Good bye hearing about the old naked men in the locker room at the gym. Good bye having to take a bite out of my sandwiches. And, good bye 32 trips to the grocery store per week.

I'm a sad lady, for sure. That's the bad news. The good news is: I can have all the quiet I want. All the thermostat to myself. And all happiness of knowing I've got one hell of a wonderful kid. Who could ask for more?

MYSTERY HANDS

See that hand there? It's mine. And, my nails, too. Actually, it's what my nails are SUPPOSED to look like. SO not what I'm sporting nowadays. It's blowing my mind, too.

For 26 years, I've been doing my own nails. I gave my up standing manicure appointments the day my son was born. Instead, I began doing my OWN manicure, right in the comfy confines of my own home, wearing a comfy nightgown and sitting upon my comfy couch. And, ever since then, you could pretty much count on my hands looking much like they do in that picture. Except, some weeks the nails are red, some weeks mauve, some weeks maybe even a pale copper shade.

BUT NOW?? Oh my lord... for the first time in YEARS, I have no length whatsoever to my nails. In fact, my hands don't even LOOK like they belong to me. I am plenty freaked, too. In fact, right now, when I type, my FINGERS are actually pressing the keys. Not my nails, like they usually do. No wonder... there ARE no nails to do the pressing. Damnit.

I can't figure out what's going on, either. I only know that they keep splitting and becoming shorter and shorter. Actually, my left hand is looking much better than my right, but still, wearing all my favorite rings now requires mighty careful selection since I usually choose my rings according to my nail length. Case in point: wearing my favorite really LARGE, glitzy rings so don't look so hotsi totsi when adorning short stubby finger nails. Hence lately, I'm pretty much wearing rings that you'd find on any happening 9 year old. Geez.

Maybe it's the way I'm filing? The bottom coat I'm using? The heavy duty manual labor I'm doing in my garage? Boy, I wished I knew the cause. What I DO know however, is that tonight is manicure night. I am PRAYING that they'll begin to grow again. I'm getting mighty tired of these little girl rings I'm forced to wear and oh, so miss, my glitzy grownup ones. Besides, with nails this short, I can't even CHOOSE which color polish to use. The short length definitely mandates it's got to be something like: BARELY THERE. Which pretty much describes not only the color of the polish, but the length of the nails, too.

WRIGHT IS WRONG

Wow... this man is outta control. Is he PURPOSELY trying to sabotage the candidate of his church?? Because, I gotta tell you... none of what he's blabbering about can possibly help. Were I Obama, I would DEFINITELY tell the guy... uh, you wanna button it up until AFTER I'm elected? PLEASE? Man... with friends like this, who needs enemies??

Now don't get me wrong... I'm not weighing in on whether or not Wright has the right to speak. Of course he does. Nor am I blanketly saying that Wright doesn't have some validity in his view of how Blacks have been treated in our country. And, I'm not saying that the Reverend isn't espousing some MAJOR wacko ideas. Regardless... most of us have no clue what it's been like to live a life filled with hate and discrimination.

What I AM saying however, is given the controversy he brings on... couldn't he like give his church member a break?? Has he no loyalty whatsoever to Obama, in hopes that we might have our very first Black nominee for President? Oh yeah... I forgot... Wright is kinda on a campaign himself. A campaign to SELL HIS LATEST BOOK, that is. No WONDER he doesn't care about the ruckus he's capable of creating. He's got an agenda all his own. And, he's plenty pissed at Barack for shall we say "distancing himself".

Which is too bad, if you ask me. I'd almost think that Wright would at least wait a bit before he drives Obama and the country crazy with his crapola. He wants to believe and promote his outlandish ideas? Okay... do it. Just don't do it RIGHT SMACK ON THE EVE OF A MAJOR ELECTION. Personally, I'd have to say Obama's motto of the day should be: timing is everything. And, this, my friend, is not the time.

Thank goodness Obama has seen fit to call Wright out on a lot of his thinking. In fact, just this afternoon, Barak basically told Jeremiah... adios, mi amigo... nice knowing you. Don't EVER call me again. It must make Obama shudder to no end, to know that he's unfortunately, being held responsible for what spills from his pastor's brain. It's nuts. On the other hand, I do believe that Wright, as a man of God, has indeed offered comfort and insight for many congregants, in living a holy life. But therein lies the rub. Why can't this man HELP to promote the ONE man who has the clout and intelligence AND ability to finally help bridge the huge divide between black and white? Instead, Wright has basically thrown THAT possibility to the wind, I see.

Get the hook. And FAST. Talk about no friend in need is no friend, indeed. Nice going, Rev. My best advice to Obama? Don't feel badly that your pastor turned out to be a vicious, retaliating A-hold. Nor that you had to give him the boot. Trust me... men like him are WAY outta your league. Including... the League of Women Voters.

STYLIN' ON UP

The DAY I turned 16, my brother took me to get my very first driver's license. It was like the happiest day of my life. I couldn't believe that I'd FINALLY be a free spirit on the road. YIPPEE. And, I couldn't believe just how much I impressed my brother.

Bob couldn't get over how well I did, ESPECIALLY since, to pass the test, I had to parallel park. Uh... in a '59 Cadillac, no less. No. Wait a minute. It may have been a '63. Doesn't matter, actually, because BOTH cars had tail fins on them that reached all the way from Florida to Timbuktu. No lie... this car was HUGE. Thus, any 16 year old who could parallel park this car PERFECTLY, as I did, truly had reason to celebrate. Come to think of it, however, I guess I have to give SOME credit to my brother... after all, he WAS my at home driving instructor.

Bob took me to the empty parking lot at the Junior High School right near us, and each day, he'd sit next to me as I whirled around and around, backed in, backed out, turned this way and then that way. Never once do I remember him yelling at me, nor sitting there with white knuckles... much like I did with MY son. Anyway, at 7:30 a.m. we pulled into the testing center and by 8:30 a.m., boom. I was on the road.

For as long as I can remember, I drove Cadillacs. Either my parents', when I was a kid; or my own, as an adult. Until I turned 50, that is. At that point, I no longer needed a car that could seat a family of 5, nor 5 growing teenagers all headed to high school. Enter: Nissan Maxima. I was THRILLED the day I bought that car. I was slipping into parking spots like I was driving my kid's Matchbox toy car deals.

Well... get this... another 10 years has passed and bingo. I'm back into a Cadillac once again. That's my new car, up above in the pict. Wanna ride? Considering it's so roomy, why not bring along 5 of your friends? Also, it has more buttons than I'll ever possibly know what to do with. It took two nights of lessons from my son, to teach me what each button operates and trust me... I STILL have plenty of confusion. Anytime someone gets in the car with me, I automatically have them bring out the Owner's Manual for research into my latest question. My son also hooked me up with the OnStar directions and XM Radio functions. I made him PROMISE me that the dealer wouldn't call me back and make me reclaim the Maxima I used as a trade-in. Talk about going from plain to fancy schmancy. I almost feel as if I'm suddenly in the automobile production of Pygmalion.

I also feel absolutely thrilled that I have a new car. After 10 years, I certainly deserve one. So... should you see one happy lady driving down the street, pretty much stylin' in something like that up above, WAVE. Or... stick out your thumb. If you're tall, dark and handsome, I just may give you a lift.

GOING GREEN

Boy, I can't even iMAGine the last time I added an entry to this blog. It seems like months! But wow, have I been a busy little beaver, with all sorts of things going on around here. Then again, I'm basically losing my mind on many days, given all glitches I have had to contend with. Therefore, who's had time? Case in point: mastering my new cell phone, becoming a pet owner for a week with my Dad's dog, breaking half a tooth right smack in the middle of my melted cheese sandwich, encountering big hard drive problems, figuring out what to do about my oil leaking car and most importantly, should I or should not have any plastic surgery. Any one of those topics could be a contender for a major diatribe, but the one I think I'll focus on is: Anthony.

I hate him. He's the guy who planted the 40 trees in my backyard. Of course, he did it in the thick of winter which therefore gave me big problems in going out to water them in 18 degree weather with wind gusts up to 35 mph. Don't ask. Actually, I even ASKED him if this was a good time of year to plant and naturally, he replied... Hey, no problem! Sure... for HIM there was no problem. He cashed his hefty check and bingo. He was happy as a lark. I, on the other hand, had to stare as tree after tree succumbed to the effects of winter's wonderland. Okay... so finally, when I saw it was becoming a lost cause, I bit the bullet and called Anthony to say: HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. The greening of my yard is fast going brown.

So, we discussed the trees, etc. etc. and basically I was at his mercy. Meaning... Okay, he'd replace the 14 troubled trees at only half the original cost. HUH?? I have to pay AGAIN?? F.Y. Anthony. Which now that I think about it, is SOOOO far from anything I'd ever consider doing! Anyway, as I said... I was at his mercy. Actually, I even developed a scheme several weeks ago, when my former husband was here. I told Mr. X to please go outside and tell Anthony you just got back from some major federal governmental investigation, hence this is the first time you seen his work and basically, you're not thrilled with the tree troubles. Obviously, I was hoping this would put a new step into Anthony's walk, hoping he'd reconsider my cost solution. Uh... scheme failed.

Okay... so fast forward a month and boom. The trees were replaced. Which is the good news. The bad news is that I am now spending every other day, WATERING ALL THESE DAMN TREES and let me tell you... it's exhausting!! I hate this job as much as I hate Anthony. Have any idea how LONG it takes to accomplish this friggin' mission? Have any idea how LONG my hose is, to reach all the trees? It's crazy! You can be sure that the entire time I'm doing it, I'm cursing Anthony up the kazoo.

Which is why, this summer I PRAY to no end that God will take over and do the watering for me. As in: RAIN BUCKETS EVERY DAMN DAY! Trust me... you have no clue how thrilled I will be to enjoy some divine intervention.

PRESENTLY EMPLOYED

I've apparently taken on a new job. Not one I'm particularly thrilled about either, but one which is pretty much necessary. For home beautification and/or home protection. My new job?? Get this... DOG PATROL. Mainly, targeting dogs who use my lawn as their bathroom. I HATE THAT.

I don't get it. First of all, the owners are supposed to walk their dogs on a leash. Secondly, when doing so, they are supposed to pick up the unsightly remains their darling little pets leave behind. And thirdly, DOGS SHOULDN'T BE MAKING ON MY LAWN in the first place! Especially since I'm on the corner lot. Thus, right smack NEXT to my property is a huge forest of the finest looking dog bathroom facilities one could ever ask for. So, WHY USE MINE??

Geez... this just irks me. Trust me... I've spotted many a violator of this rule, and more than just once, I might add. I am basically able to be diligently on Dog Patrol round the clock because, I'm at my computer often. And... the computer is staring right smack out my front lawn window; thus giving me the ability to scout pretty much 24/7, exactly what's going on in my neighborhood. Actually, I kinda love this front and center positioning. I know which people walk when, with whom and more importantly, who owns which dogs. Except for just now.

I have to admit, just moments ago, I happened to see a brand new looking pooch in the neighborhood... a small white almost terrier type. He was strutting the streets without anyone accompanying him, thus I have no idea to whom he belongs. Of course, just when he was approaching my lawn, I began my fierce gaze just WAITING for him to crouch down to begin his squatting position. I stared and stared and sure enough... BOOM! The dog squatted. It took me but an INstant before I yelled out the window, NO!! NO!! I must have scared the holy hell out of him because... wow... did THAT puppy scurry! That's the good news. The bad news is, I saw him fly right on over to the house next to me to use THEIR facilities! Good doggie.

Of course, now... I'm wondering if the little pet made it home alright, given I have no clue where he lives. Or, maybe he merely belongs to the people who just pulled up to the house across the street, that's currently for sale. Given my new job, I was also watching, as they and the realtor entered the house, to apparently give it a once over. Which makes me think: Gee... maybe I'll get new neighbors. Maybe even ones who own a white little dog. A little white dog who, soon enough, will probably learn to hate the new Dog Patrol.

FAKING IT

I so love this picture. Probably because I so love these apples. And, I love the wooden bowl in which they are sitting. I remember being a little girl, watching my mother chop all KINDS of food in this bowl, which at the time, looked to be the all time largest bowl I had EVER seen. As in: HUGE. Seriously... it boggled my mind. Much like now... since it STILL boggles my mind given that it's SO not a particularly big bowl, after all. Believe me... I toss daily salads in bowls larger than this one. Talk about "through the eyes of a child!" Anyway, I keep this bowl of apples on the center of my kitchen dining table.

And, I love looking at it. What gets me most, however is how absolutely FABULOUS and inviting these apples look. I mean, you take a mere glance at them and your mouth immediately begins watering, just DYING to take a huge, juicy bite out of one. Except... please don't.

1.) They cost almost $15 a shot and
2.) You'll break your teeth.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Kinda pricey for an apple. But, man, LOOK AT THESE. They are so damn believable, it just KILLS me. To my way of thinking, a one time multi dollar investment pays off BIG time, considering it's for the rest of your life. Hence, my delight with the purchase. Besides, look at the REAL apple. Uh... the one that's eaten to the core, in case you couldn't spot the tree grown one vs. the man made. It looks EXACTLY like the pretend guys.

Which is why I love this picture even more. LOOK at how perfectly it's eaten around the core! I simply couldn't get over it. Which is why I ran to grab the camera. Trust me... I would love to take credit for this amazingly eaten apple, but alas, I can't. It was precisioned by a recent house guest, and not by me. Besides, I myself would never have eaten this apple. Why?? Easy. Because it's a Delicious. I don't do Delicious. I only do Granny Smith. Which, according to the Linda School of Tasty Apples is way more delicious than the actual Delicious.

Which reminds me... you want to REALLY down an incredible apple? Better tasting than ANY variety of them ALL? Find yourself a Honey Crisp Apple. You will thank me for the suggestion forever.

YES WE CAN

It's ironic to me, that a day after Heather Mills, the greedy, selfish, low life bitch, who gave her own little speech on the courthouse steps immediately after her divorce proceedings, we should have today, heard another speech; one delivered instead, by Barack Obama. The two speeches couldn't have possibly been more different in tone, importance and acumen. Heather's was spoken like a cheap British gold digger, while Barack's was more like an inspiring intellect digging for a Golden America.

If you were unable to hear Obama speak live today, then sadly, you missed the most eloquent, potent speech of our lifetime. Including those of John Kennedy or Martin Luther King. It was nothing short of incredible genius mixed with honest experience and emotional truth. In fact, I just heard, on my favorite political news station, that his speech was comparable to that of Abraham Lincoln's. I can only PRAY every student in this country was able to hear Obama's words in their own classroom.

As stated almost a year ago, I have been an Obama supporter from the get go. It matters not why, given that if I had to explain why his being President is SO much more preferential over Hillary or McCain, then it wouldn't even be worth my effort. Suffice it to say that we should BE so blessed as to have our country led by Barack.

What I WILL tell you however, is that while my son and I sat, listening to Barack tackle the race issue in politics and in America, we KNEW we were witnessing a defining moment in our history. We were not only moved beyond belief at hearing Obama's words, but also felt a sort of honor to hear words of an immensely grand orator, detailing with elegance, the most important message America could receive today.

Yes, I know... we have a lot to consider in this upcoming election. War, economics, health, education, global problems, etc. etc. Yet for me... to have a candidate that can meet these issues while combining race, understanding, statesmanship and dignity... well all I can say is: this sort of opportunity comes but once in a lifetime. Should we forgo our chance to have an American leader of quality such that Obama offers, would be to me, an unforgivable sin to the citizens of our country. I have sat back for 8 years watching a reprehensible President bring to ruin the stunningly remarkable concepts of our forefathers. Thus, when I think of the words IN GOD WE TRUST, I can promise you... I am also thinking about trusting in God, to give my country a leader whose caliber, integrity and respectability is like that of Barack Obama. Indeed, he embodies an essence that I have not seen in ANY President since I reached voting age. And, trust me. I'm WAY over 21.