Tuesday, September 27, 2005

No, No.

Don't make me go back to the office today. I just can't get enthusiastic about that sweat shop any more. I know top management is trying to improve moral, but it hasn't sunk down past the management in our department.

The only time they remember your name is when you've done something wrong. If it's right you know who's taking credit for it.

Ah, well. Pray for me that I can retire August 1, 2006. That's my goal. Maybe the stockmarket will take a sudden upswing and I can sell all my company stock and say Take This Job and Shove it!

Friday, September 23, 2005

Its Friday Frippery

My word of the day is irrelevant. That’s because nothing in today’s blog is relevant to absolutely anything. Okay, so let’s do the Miriam Webster on line dictionary irrelevant definition. It means: Pronunciation: -v&ntFunction: adjective: not relevant: INAPPLICABLE as in: Man, you’re the most irrelevant scumbag to grace my door in 20 years.

Here we go into the wild blue yonder. Oops, wrong commercial. WARNING: This is my forum to be my inane, irrelevant, irreverent, irregular, irresponsible, smart ass self. The opinions expressed in this column are still not and probably will never be those of management. Don’t you know Management’s views are irrelevant to creating this blog? Is blog with 1 g or 2? I can never figure it out.

1. I shot my muse today. That tall, sinewy, blond haired, buff (that’s a word I learned from my daughter) hunk with emerald eyes was lying down on the job. Actually, I think he was consorting with some other wanna be writer. So I shot him. If he won’t inspire me, than nobody else can be inspired on my time.

2. How am I doing for being irrelevant? Okay, let’s keep on truckin’. Oh, I’m just so full of irrelevant clichés tonight. Here’s another one. But you won’t recognize it unless you’re as old as dirt as my friend likes to remind loud and often. “You’ll wonder where the yellow went when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent”.

3. When you’re attempting to train a new person, why do they ask your opinion when they have absolutely no intention of following your directions? For that matter, how can someone on the job less than two months think they know how to make the job better? This girl doesn’t even know enough yet to know what she doesn’t know. She’s in love with spreadsheets. HA! When we get really busy, she won’t have time to go potty let alone play with her flipping spreadsheets.

4. Damn! Damn! I had the pleasure of moving my office yesterday. I just got used to the old one and now they go and move me. Wouldn’t you know, I lost some of my things in the epic journey from the old cubicle to the new one 20 ft down the hall? I feel like I’m back in kindergarten playing musical chairs. All I ask of management is not to move me next to my anal boss again. What a bitch that would be.

5. I have three stories out for writing contest, and even though I know the results won’t be announced for another month, I keep checking web sites everyday. How irrelevant is that?

6. I stopped at the SPCA on my way home today and guess what I found? A very large (20 lbs,) orange cat named Herold. He’s a real lap cat. Finally! Miss Tinkerbell has got her nose out of joint, but she’ll get over it.

It’s about time to bring this nonsense to an end. I'm very tired from another grueling week at the diamond mine.

My thoughts and prayers are with those in the path of Rita. TTFN

And no, the different colors or repeated referrals to the numer 20 tonight don’t mean a thing.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

I'm late, I'm Late

For a very important date.
No time to blogg.
I fell off the log.
Looking for the dog.
Or was that a hog,
that ran over the frog
in search of grog?

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Long Day

I got to work this morning at 6:30 to catch up on all 120 e-mails from yesterday. I was doing really well until my anal boss started questioning everthing I did last Friday. It wasn't like it was wrong, he just doesn't trust anything the first time.

So after redoing about 20 reports for the third time, I finally gave them back to him with the additional information he requested. So when I took them into his office, he starts questioning me again about the numbers. I explained again about all the revisions. That apparently satisfied him...if only momentarily.

Right around quitting time he called again with more questions. And I was delusional enough to think I could get on top of the pile today. Silly me. HA!!!!

Monday, September 19, 2005

Auction Block of Faith

My arms above my head;
my face to the uncaring crowd;
all dignity stripped from my self;
I am thrust upon the auction block of faith,
plunged there by the cruel lust of my father.
Not a soul hears my cries of pain,
as a solitary tear slips from my eyes,
to be lost in the pelting rain of my heart.
I am but a cold statue of violated flesh,
no longer feeling, no longer caring.
Ice flows in my veins as a child cries for release.
I am as cold and unfeeling as a marble goddess;
the center of my own universe.
I am a goddess of longing and desire;
round hips, full breasts and lips begging to be kissed;
and naive, so pathetically naïve.

Savagely, my father forces his lust upon my youthful innocence,
and flaunts me upon the auction block of faith.
My psyche slips ever deeper into the abyss of my dreams;
basking in the life sustaining music in which I am mired.
Not a soul hears my pain,
and the ice creeps into my heart,
rendering me into cold, unyielding stone.
A solitary tear slips unnoticed from the corner of my eyes,
lost in the rain of my grief.
No one turns to witness as my heart burst asunder.
They see only the chilling facade of perfect, unfeeling flesh.
And I am cold; so very cold.
So cold that no human touch can ever warm me;
no act of compassion penetrates the stone barrier of which I am a part.
Even as a solitary tear cascades down my face,
I am a cold, unreachable goddess of tortured pain;
round hips, full breasts and lips begging to be kissed.

And all for naught, for I am cast upon the auction block of faith.
Cruel life has taught me to suffer the sins of my father.
Not a soul dare brave the forbidding facade behind which I hide.
Tears of my heart no longer dampen my eyes.
I am a goddess of control;
allowing no access to the vulnerable inner self.
The haunting pain reflected within my eyes is mistaken for haughty disdain.
I am as cold and uncaring as they,
yet the frozen tears upon my cheeks belie my claim.
It matters not, for few care to gaze below the surface.
I am the center of my own universe,
A goddess of longing and desire;
round hips, full breasts and lips begging to be kissed.

Sunday, September 18, 2005


I went to Garden Ridge yesterday to buy more yarn to finish the afghan I'm working on, and oh boy, I canvassed the whole place. I was alone, so why not?

I bought a new ornament for the pond, a grille brush for the bar-b-que, 2 lighter sticks for Jimbob's chimenia, a new iron, 3 Christmas ornaments, a new pot for my geranium, 4 miniature spice jars, 4 miniature loaf pans and at the last moment I remembered the yarn. Of course I got the wrong color to finish my current project and chose a color to start a new one.

Would you believe that Jimbob hates to go to Garden Ridge with me? For those of you who might not know what Garden Ridge is, it's the world largest craft and junk store. It's huge. Britt (before she got too grown up to be seen with Mom) and I used to go together and spend hours pawing through the bargain tables and boxes. Sometimes, we'd even buy STUFF we had no idea what we were going to use it for, but for less than a dollar it was too good to pass up.

Many of you won't understand my enthusiasm, but for the perennial crafter out there, THEY'LL KNOW.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Its Friday Frippery

It's Friday Frippery. My word of the day is pimp. I'm sure we've all heard pimp on television on some so called real life crime show . According to Miriam Websters on line dictionary it means Function: Noun, Etymology: origin unknown, (now we get to the meat of the word) a man who solicits clients for prostitutes. As in, "Her dirty, lowdown, good for nothing pimp stole all her money while she was otherwise engaged".

WARNING: This is my forum to be my inane, irrelevant, irreverent, irregular, irresponsible, smart ass self. The opinions expressed in this column are still not and probably will never be those of management. Now isn't that a pimp for you?

1 Okaywhat'st on the agenda for today? I haven figureded it out yet. I've been existing on pain killers for the last few day. The doctors told me that my sciatica is pretty much self limiting. Oh sure. It's been four frigging years and all it does is get worse. I had another epidural last Wednesday to try to block the pain. So far it hasn't kicked in yet.

2. My daughter called me this afternoon from Reno, NV to say that her six month old, white GermaShepardrd died yesterday from parvo virus. What a bummer! They took Isis up one of the undeveloped canyons to bury her. I had offered to send Britt some of my irises that have grown wild, but she said no. Today she asked if I would send them so they could plant them around Isis' grave.

3. I think I did two days worth of work today. I was behind because I'm out on Mondays for my Master Gardeners class and on Tuesday, our ordering system was acting like a pimp! Ordering is not the only thing we use it for. With the rise in construction cost, we now have to give a monthly accounting of wtat has been spent on each store. You'd be amazed at how much we spend on something as simple as lighting.

4. I'm pissed. I've screwed up my template somehow and now I can't do all the things I used to with pictures. They won't move, and lots of times (like now) I can't even upload them. Damn it!

Have I bored you enough yet? Yeah, I know I talk about myself a lot, but you know what? IT'S MY BLOG and I'll do anything I want. Besides as I've said before, you know where the remote (figuratively speaking) is. Feel free to use it anytime you like.


Thursday, September 15, 2005

Whats the Hurry

Here I am doing 65 in a 55 mph zone, and I’m nearly getting run over. Where are all these idiots going? The light just turned red a quarter mile up the road and they’re still accelerating. Do they think the Jolly Green Giant is going to push a magical button and make the light green just for them?

Is it a death wish? The highway I travel certainly has more wrecks than most. I was headed home in my Miata (a very small car) a while back when the traffic in front of me came to a dead stop. The third car in front of me had just been hit head on by a pickup truck. If it’d been me in that little pop can I was driving, I’d have been road kill.

That’s not the first time God was watching over me. A couple of years ago, I was waiting at a red light and I was debating whether to go straight ahead or turn right. I’d actually opted to go straight, but when I reached the corner, my automatic pilot kicked in and I made the right.

The driver in the pickup next to me went straight (North). Much to his misfortune, a gravel hauler in the West bound lanes ran the red light and creamed the pickup. Once again, if it had been me, that truck would have thought he’d hit a speed bump. Don’t you know I said a prayer or two?

I just don’t get it. If you’re late for work, you’re late. If you can’t make it in the time allotted, leave earlier. It’s not the Indianapolis 500, or maybe I’m just not a speed freak like some people.

I’ve been in one wreck, and there’s nothing like the sound of impact. Movies just don’t do it justice. Unlike the studios would have you believe, it’s not a ringing sound. It’s a dull whump. A dead sound you’ll never forget. The wreck I was in was 29 (July 4, 1976) years ago, and I still suffer for it. So for your safety and mine, SLOW DOWN you jerks!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Have You Ever Part 3

Rescued a stray animal.
Run barefoot through a sticker patch.
Given blood knowing you might save a life
Woken from a nightmare and feared to go back to sleep.
Pretended you were someone else.
Loved unconditionally.
Sang in a choir.
Cried at the opera.
Watched the same movie over and over.
Loaned your favorite book to a friend.
Compromised when you didn’t want to.
Scoured the flea market for just the right treasure.
Wrestled with a lover.
Danced three hours on a broken foot.
Prayed to God for help.
Felt lonely in the middle of a crowd.
Longed for someone to share secrets with.
Listened to the doves cooing early in the morning on a camping trip.
Tried to protect your child from harm.
Taken music lessons.
Bit yourself sneezing
Taken the dog for a walk.
Hidden so well that no one could find you.
Wished for Friday.
Gone on a cruise.
Told your boss that you would buy new underwear with your raise.
Gone for a long walk in the rain.
Given away your favorite things to someone who liked them.
Pigged out on junk food.
Written a book.
Admitted that you were afraid.
Listened to your child cry in pain.
Changed a tire in the parking lot.
Said I love you to your parents.
Done favors just because.
Volunteered your time.
Wasted a day doing nothing.
Admitted that you were wrong.
Made a special gift for a friend.
Told your kids thank you.
Stayed up all night.
Walked and talked and held hands.
Caught a fish.
Suddenly felt shy.
Floated down the river on an inner tube.
Moved from one state to another.
Cried for no reason.
Avoided someone you don’t like.
Sneezed until tears ran down your face.
Rode a roller coaster.
Wished that you could fly.
Pointed out the full moon to your kids.
Been glad to be alive.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Heartbreak Hotel

I was thinking about Mom on my way home from church this afternoon, so I decided to give her a call. It makes me really sad because after we say hello, there's not a whole lot more to talk about.

I haven't lived near Mom since 1973 and she has pretty much limited her life to taking care of her grandkids in Reno. Now those kids are grown up and my nephew has kids of his own. Unfortunately, he is married to a woman who refuses to allow him or their children to visit my sister or my mother.

Now, she has very little to live for. She's been sitting around waiting to die since she turned 50. Mom will be 88 years old next January.

She also had a major stroke 10 years ago and she does very well with some things, there are others thing she just can't do. Sadly, her speech was affected and her ability to read. Her hearing is getting very bad now, and she accuses my sister of talking softly on purpose so she can't be part of the conversation.

It's so hard for me to call, and I don't do it as often as I should. It breaks my heart to see how much she has deteriorated the last couple of years. I know I should call her more often and I'll be sad when I can't. I guess I just want to deny the truth.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Friday Frippery

It’s Friday Frippery. My word of the day is avoirdupois. I bet you never heard that one before. According to Miriam Webster’s on line dictionary it means: Etymology: Middle English avoir de pois goods sold by weight, from Old French, literally, goods of weight. 1: AVOIRDUPOIS WEIGHT 2: WEIGHT, HEAVINESS; especially: personal weight. As in: Her avoirdupois weight is becoming unmanageable. At least I think that’s how it’s used.

Now, Business as usual. WARNING: This is my forum to be my inane, irrelevant, irreverent, irregular, irresponsible, smart ass self. The opinions expressed in this column are still not and probably will never be those of management. This is an avoirdupois phrase I just love to use.

1. My first avoirdupois topic is low rise jeans. No, I’m not forgetting the hip huggers we used to wear in the 60’s and 70’s, but they pale in comparison to today’s low rise pants that reveal way too much. It’s more than I want to see when some chick sits down and the pants are so short that her butt floss is revealed. Why buy underwear that isn’t going to produce panty lines it if rides up above your pants?

Even the skinniest, beanpole chick looks like she’s wearing her kid sister’s jeans that are or 3 sizes too small. Jimbob’s niece, Andrea came to Grandma’s 89th birthday party last May wearing low rise jeans. She’s as skinny as a rail, but I longed to go over and pull the damn things up where they belong.

My worst nightmare is men wearing LOW RISE JEANS. No, no, spare me the sight of an untended male crack. That strikes true terror in my heart.

2. Moving right along, have you any idea how difficult it is to find a free evening that is compatible with half a dozen women? Several of us breakfast club participants are doing our best to organize a book club. (Aspirations of Oprah). So far we have 2 women with a free evening. Me and Gracie. Good night Gracie.

3. The other night Jaycee and I went out back to replace a couple of bulbs in the yard lights. It was right about dusk. Before we could get even one bulb changed we were being assaulted my mosquitoes the size of a Stealth Bomber. As the saying goes, “Discretion is the better part of valor, so we turned tail and ran back inside. Reminded me of the Stephen King story where giant insects were attacking a small town. 1 for the bugs, 0 for the humans.

4. Last, but the best. About a week ago I set up a blog for the food whore. She’s at “http://bayoudreamer.blogspot.com// and I encourage everyone to drop by her site and leave a comment.

Well, I certainly hope I’ve been avoirdupois enough for everyone today. If not, you know where the remote is.


Thursday, September 08, 2005

Brain Freeze

Some mornings I get up and my brain hurts. It's like having a hngover when you haven't had a thing to drink As my mother used to say (before she became a saint), “I’m about as useful as tits on a boar hog.” (That’s a male hog for those of you who are not up on hog gender.)

As an aside: Mom, my niece and nephew visited us in Illinois years ago. So we decided to drive down to Springfield for the state fair. As we were going through the hog barn, Mom whispers in my ear, “A hog’s thing is like a corkscrew.” Okay Mom, I really needed to know that.

Now, back to my point. Brain freeze is not good. Especially since I have to start work on our stores damaged by Katrina. There are 13 on the list, but the one in Gretna, LA doesn’t count because arsonist burned it to the ground.

I’m not sure why some people suddenly become animals when a disaster happens. Or maybe their animal nature lurks barely below the façade of humanity all along, and a catastrophe simply brings out their true self.

I didn’t set out to preach. I wasn’t there, thank God. There are always two sides to a story and each is presented from the perspective of the person telling their side. A lot of things happened that shouldn’t have, but more went right than the media would have us believe.

It’s easy to complain and wail that the authorities were late, uncaring, coldhearted and on and on. But I don’t see those people who are complaining saying, “I’ll go out there and make everything okay.” Besides which, they have no clue as to HOW to fix it.

Of course, it’s easier said than done for these great armchair quarterbacks. No doubt, Katrina has rained on everybody’s parade. Rather than standing around pissing and moaning about how poorly the current administration handled the crisis why don't they do something constructive.

I don’t care whether you like President Bush or not. Right now it doesn’t matter. He didn’t cause the hurricane in spite of what his critics would have you believe. He’s not running for office again, so get over it! Rather than sitting in your safe, comfy family room with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other, and complaining, get off your butts and help.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005


I hope everyone out there had a wonderful holiday. Personally, I took the title LABOR DAY literally. What started out to be a simple project of transplanting ajuga and irises turned into a major, all day in the yard PROJECT. I felt like Taz by the time I finished.

We have a small fountain that keeps running dry because the reservoir underneath is too shallow. In a matter of hours, the Texas HEAT (akin to a day in Hell) has dried up the water and the pump starts sucking air.

Once again this should have been a very simple job, but…is any job ever simple? Especially when you’re outside digging holes in near 100 degrees. I managed to get it all put back together and it worked…for a little while. The new reservoir pan apparently cracked under the weight of the fountain.

NO, I didn’t start all over. This little sucker must go 75 pounds, and I was verrrrry tired. So, I employed a universal, if temporary fix. I pulled the plug on it.

Next weekend, Plan B.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Ups and Downs

When it comes to ups and downs in life,
I’d rather be up…than down.
But, if I must choose
between being upset and downset,
I’ll pick down every time.
For if you are upset…
things are certainly down,
nor can they be right, nor left.
So…if things are downset,
does that mean that they are up?
Or, did I just go out the front door
that I might come in the back?
Truly, there is a moral to this story…
but I am too upset to come down to the point.
So…I will pick myself up,
dust off the cobwebs,
and downset my mind...up.

Saturday, September 03, 2005


I got a nasty postcard in the mail the other day from our homeowners association telling me I need to trim the shrubs around the front door and window. Don't these people have anything better to do than drive around looking for imagined infringements?

NO, I almost forgot that they sent me a note several years back telling me I needed to remove the downed tree in the front yard. I mailed them the card back with a note saying, "There is no downed tree in my yard. It's a Weeping Cherry." That means it has cascading branches all the way to the ground in some places.

I felt like saying, "Don't you feel stupid now?" but I was a nice little girl and kept my mouth shut. Oh well, I suppose I should go trim my Weeping Cherry tree before someone calls the Politically Correct Police.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Friday Frippery

It’s Friday Frippery. My word of the day is PISSED. According to Miriam Webster’s on line dictionary it means: 1 chiefly British, sometimes vulgar : DRUNK 1a 2 sometimes vulgar : ANGRY, IRRITATED -- often used with off. As in: I’m pissed as hell that these oil companies think it’s okay to raise their prices twice in one day.

Now, let’s get down to business. WARNING: This is my forum to be my inane, irrelevant, irreverent, irregular, irresponsible, smart ass self. The opinions expressed in this column are still not and probably will never be those of management. Oh how sweet that sounds, especially since I’m PISSED as hell.

1. First, my heart goes out to all who lost their homes, cars, businesses and loved ones when Katrina struck. There’s no way to go back and undo the harm, but I pray that God will lift them up and allow them to go on with their lives.

2. As you may have guessed, I think we’re getting the shaft. Yes, we had a hurricane that has shut down oil production in the Gulf, but No, there’s no way the price increase has been passed on to the gas stations yet. Trouble is if most of us want to continue to work to put food on the table, we have no choice but to buy gas at these artificially inflated prices. You don’t have to agree with me, but this is MY blog.

3. Jimbob and I have different philosophies in life. It doesn’t mean we fight about it or get PISSED off, we simply have different expectations from people. Perhaps because I was married to someone for so long who never (that’s not an exaggeration) carried through with his promises, I expect very little from people. On the other hand, Jimbob does expect things from others and is quite often disappointed. If you don’t expect anything, then you aren’t pissed when people don’t follow through.

4. Back to my soap box. Last year when much of Malaysia was hit by a devastating tsunami, the good old US of A rushed right in to help the victims. Do you think the efforts will be reciprocated? I doubt it. After all, we’re the UGLY AMERICANS! I would love to be surprised by an out pouring of dollars and supplies from even one of these countries we have helped.

5. Talking about pissed, most of the school districts in North Texas paint their school buses with initials. A Dallas bus would read, DISD, McKinney is MISD, Frisco is FISD, but what about Plano? The city fathers apparently thought PISD was too suggestive. They spell out Plano Independent School District.

Want more? (I doubt it.) Nevertheless, you are free to use the remote if you find my frippery irrelevant. So long and...


Thursday, September 01, 2005

Have You Ever Part 2

Walked on the beach with someone you love.
Laughed until your sides ached.
Searched for shapes in the clouds.
Or watched a billowing mass of thunderheads piling one on top of another.
Hit your finger with a hammer.
Picked wildflowers with your daughter.
Cried where your children can’t hear you.
Gone rock hopping down the middle of a stream.
Held a sick child in your arms for a full day.
Witnessed your child’s first solo bike ride.
Driven with the top down going absolutely nowhere.
Swung so high that you thought that you would go over the top.
Gotten falling down drunk.
Sat by your child’s hospital bed after a serious injury.
Had the sillies for a whole day.
Danced naked in front of the mirror.
Watched the sun come up in the morning.
Spent six weeks in the hospital.
Rested your head on someone’s shoulder and talked nonsense.
Asked for a hug.
Bought something that you had no use for.
Seen a solar eclipse.
Wished you hadn’t eaten that last piece of pie.
Played in the sprinkler.