Sorry it took so long to get this up. I actually forgot that I was supposed to finish it. Thank you, Lucille, for the kick in the mmmmm… reminder. I’m thinking I had a mental block caused by post-traumatic stress?!?!? LOL! OK – here goes.
Part III – Hey baby, can I buy you a drink?
Every Tuesday I put a minimum of 160 miles on my car. I drive 36 miles to pick up Daughter at the County Juvenile Residential Center (CJRC) to drive 45 miles to her counselor’s office for her weekly appointment. Then back to CJRC and back home. I have fibromyalgia. All of this driving has a tendency to make my muscles, joints, bones, (and some days even my hair) hurt. After each leg of the drive it is important that I stand up and stretch to loosen everything back up. Today, after finally making it back to my end of the world, I had to stop at Lowe’s before going home. As usual, I got out of the car and stretched. First, sitting in the car with my legs out on the pavement, I stretch my thigh and calf muscles, and twirl my feet to loosen up my ankles. Then I stand up, stretch to the four corners, twist my shoulders left and right, and arch my back.
I typically park pretty far out so that I get some exercise walking from the car to the store. Today, however, I lazied out and parked closer. I didn’t think about the fact that lots of people park closer. I also didn’t think about the fact that I would be putting on a show.
When I wheeled into my parking spot I noticed that an old, beat-up, rust bucket of a truck pulled into a spot two spaces down in front of me. I noticed only because the thought went through my mind that Jed Clampett would have been embarrassed to drive that heap! Imagine how amused I was, then, when Jed’s older, uglier cousin (we’ll call him Old Guy With No Front Teeth or “Oggy” for short) emerged grinning like an old jack donkey on a 3-day bender. We briefly made eye contact as I put the car in park and took off my seatbelt. He nodded almost imperceptibly, his face never changing expression. I didn’t really think anything else about it and so went about my normal business of relieving the tension in my muscles.
I extended my legs, twisted my shoulders, and elongated my neck muscles, then stood up to stretch my back. I was so absorbed in my actions that it was not until I was in mid-back-arch that I realized that Oggy had stopped and was WATCHING ME! Well, he wasn’t actually watching ALL of me! He was only eyeing my frontal protrusions! Now, I’m kind of use to having people stare at my breasts. Heck, I’d stare at them, too, if I wasn’t the one wearing them around all the time!!! You see, I’m one of those girls you normal chicks made fun of in the locker room in 6th grade and then hated in high school. I developed very early and, sadly, have not seen my feet without great effort since I was about 13. Add a cup size for each pregnancy (mine NEVER went back down!) and some weight gain (eg: Hubby use to tell people I was built like a brick outhouse; I tell people I still am, now I’m just a double-wide, two-holer!), and I could now get filthy rich if they ever perfected breast transplants because I could easily supply enough tissue for at least half of the women in the state of Rhode Island. Oggy, I figured, was just like a lot of breast men I’ve known: curious but harmless. But he kept standing there. Staring. With that drunk snaggletoothed donkey grin on his face.
After a second or two, I became very uncomfortable with his attention and moved to get into the store as quickly as possible. Once inside I’d lose him – or so I thought. About every third time I looked up, Oggy was there, trying very hard to be inconspicuous as he side-eyed my every move. I found myself trying, unsuccessfully, to minimize the motion of my frontal ocean because the way Oggy kept ogling me I was afraid that he might develop his own frontal protrusion if I jiggled too much! Thank the Saints of Hardware that I have practically lived in Lowe’s since June, so I knew exactly where to go to find the stuff I needed and avoided those items that would require bending over or, God forbid, reaching up to snag them.
Finally, every(safe)thing in hand, I hurriedly headed to the checkout. But not fast enough! Oggy had grabbed a can of WD40 at our last stop and so innocently, accidentally ended up in line behind me. (At this point I was wishing I’d jiggled a little more so he maybe wouldn’t have been able to keep up with me quite so easily!) With one lady in front of me, I began anxiously looking around for a familiar face, and God bless his pea pickin’ little soul, my favorite little cashier supervisor popped out of the office just as I got to the register.
I was just reaching into my basket for the last of my stuff when Oggy finally got up the nerve to speak to me. He offered to help me pick up the big, heavy, plug and light switch covers, and a can of black spray paint. Awwww, sooo sweeet… His actions. NOT his breath. OH. MY. STARS! I was praying I wouldn’t get pulled over by the cops on the way home because I’d have failed a breathalyzer test just by having breathed his air!!! And then he asked me if I’d like to go somewhere for a drink. GO. SOMEWHERE. WITH HIM. FOR A DRINK. My mind screamed… OH HEEEELLLLLLLL NOOOOOOO!!!
I was proud of myself. I didn’t panic. Instead, I immediately (read: frantically) called out the supervisor’s name with what I hoped sounded like great delight and exaggerated enthusiasm, pulled him into a great big bear hug and whispered in his ear, “I’ll explain later. Please DO NOT let this guy follow me out of here!” With a very puzzled look on his face, he nodded, squeezed me back, and sent the cashier on an “errand.”
The last I saw of Oggy, he was rushing madly out the door of the store looking frantically from left to right, bobbing up and down, craning his neck for all he was worth trying to figure out where I went. Fortunately, my view of him was from the rearview mirror as I was pulling out of the parking lot. But, just in case he might have seen me, I took the very long, scenic route home.
Today, instead of my usual 160 miles, I drove about 175. It was worth just it to be sure there wasn’t an old, beat-up, rust bucket of a truck pulling in the driveway behind me with a jug of moonshine and a snaggletoothed donkey grin waggin’ out the window.
Wishing you Peace, Blessings, and at least good looking perverts!
Showing posts with label Jailbirds and Jugheads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jailbirds and Jugheads. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
MEME – 7 things
Mary over at Motherwise tagged me. At first I was dreading the need to play this silly game again, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there are lots of things I want to say, but that really aren't all that blog-worthy. So... here goes with some of them.
1. I collect bottles. But typically only the ones with product still in them. Unless they are really old. Or really c
ool looking. Or really small. Or glass (no plastic). Or... mmm... I collect bottles.
2. I am not a picky eater – unless you try to feed me liver. Or English peas. Or raw onions. Or raw meat (bring on the shoe leather, baby!). Or squid. Or figs – I hate figs! Or … mmm… I’m a picky eater.
3. I’ve been spotlighted on three different television shows. Twice on local news broadcasts – once when I was 8 and once when we were adopting Daughter. And in October of 2006 I was on the Montel Williams Show talking to Sylvia Brown. First and only time in my life I ever got stage fright! It was worse than dealing with the ghost I went on to talk about! LOL!! It is a cool story, but I’m copycatting Motherwise and making you ask if you want to hear it!
4. I had a dog once that got eaten by an alligator.
5. I played the clarinet in high school until the summer before my senior year when I took money for teaching twirling lessons. That put me in the “professional” category, so I couldn’t play with the band for UIL competitions and thus became the band secretary. I was bossy and mean. So mean, in fact, that on my off period which was right before band, when I’d go to the band hall to hang out, the other students would flip on Elton John’s “The Bitch Is Back” when I walked in!
6. I was head twirler in high school for both my junior and senior years. It was the first time in the school history that a junior had been named head twirler. It was the first time is the school history that anyone was named head twirler two years in a row. I was good. I knew it. I had a big head. People didn’t like me much. Refer back to #5 for the rest of this story.
7. I’m no longer mean and nasty and (as) bossy… unless I have to be. But I don’t enjoy it like I did in my teen years. Well, not most of the time. Heh heh heh. (See Customer Service Rant for examples – that’s pretty much as mean and nasty as I get these days.)
OK – that’s my 7. And I’m absolutely STUMPED on who to tag. The Meme 8 took me nearly 2 days to put together because I know so few people here. So I’m going to ask those of you who read this, and email me behind the scenes instead of posting comments to EMAIL ME WITH 7 (or 1 or 2 or...) THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF that are fun, interesting, and/or just plain weird. I’ll post them here. No - I won't use your name. But I do get to make up a funny nickname for you if you don't just post it in the comments under a name of your choice. Talk about making my blogging life easy! LOL!!
And if you need a feel-good for the day, go check out Motherwise . She’s warm, creative, and very funny.
Peace, Blessings, and a prayer for lots of 7s up soon!
1. I collect bottles. But typically only the ones with product still in them. Unless they are really old. Or really c
ool looking. Or really small. Or glass (no plastic). Or... mmm... I collect bottles. That's just a few - very few - of them! That printer's tray alone contains 33 tiny bottles. None of them are worth much money, but they are just so darn cute!
2. I am not a picky eater – unless you try to feed me liver. Or English peas. Or raw onions. Or raw meat (bring on the shoe leather, baby!). Or squid. Or figs – I hate figs! Or … mmm… I’m a picky eater.
3. I’ve been spotlighted on three different television shows. Twice on local news broadcasts – once when I was 8 and once when we were adopting Daughter. And in October of 2006 I was on the Montel Williams Show talking to Sylvia Brown. First and only time in my life I ever got stage fright! It was worse than dealing with the ghost I went on to talk about! LOL!! It is a cool story, but I’m copycatting Motherwise and making you ask if you want to hear it!
4. I had a dog once that got eaten by an alligator.
5. I played the clarinet in high school until the summer before my senior year when I took money for teaching twirling lessons. That put me in the “professional” category, so I couldn’t play with the band for UIL competitions and thus became the band secretary. I was bossy and mean. So mean, in fact, that on my off period which was right before band, when I’d go to the band hall to hang out, the other students would flip on Elton John’s “The Bitch Is Back” when I walked in!
6. I was head twirler in high school for both my junior and senior years. It was the first time in the school history that a junior had been named head twirler. It was the first time is the school history that anyone was named head twirler two years in a row. I was good. I knew it. I had a big head. People didn’t like me much. Refer back to #5 for the rest of this story.
7. I’m no longer mean and nasty and (as) bossy… unless I have to be. But I don’t enjoy it like I did in my teen years. Well, not most of the time. Heh heh heh. (See Customer Service Rant for examples – that’s pretty much as mean and nasty as I get these days.)
OK – that’s my 7. And I’m absolutely STUMPED on who to tag. The Meme 8 took me nearly 2 days to put together because I know so few people here. So I’m going to ask those of you who read this, and email me behind the scenes instead of posting comments to EMAIL ME WITH 7 (or 1 or 2 or...) THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF that are fun, interesting, and/or just plain weird. I’ll post them here. No - I won't use your name. But I do get to make up a funny nickname for you if you don't just post it in the comments under a name of your choice. Talk about making my blogging life easy! LOL!!
And if you need a feel-good for the day, go check out Motherwise . She’s warm, creative, and very funny.
Peace, Blessings, and a prayer for lots of 7s up soon!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Not angry – just not guilty. :o)
It has been pointed out that my Jailbird post sounded angry. Sorry about that. I’m really not angry about anything – Just very adamant about the fact that I’m not to blame for my kids’ choices that put them behind bars.
My strongest reason for talking about this stuff is so that other parents might understand that they aren’t to blame, either! Unless you happen to be the scumbag who introduced my 12-year-old son to pot. Then you can rot in hell for all I care! Or if you are the even worse scumbag who so seriously abused my daughter that she has both physical and mental scars that can never be erased. Then you can rot in the deepest, darkest recesses of the places so far below hell even the devil is afraid to go there!
Now, as far as I’m concerned, this chapter of my blog is closed to all future negativity. (As you can tell, I haven't published any of the negative comments, and won't, so give up!) As I tell all those I counsel – the best rewards come from the hardest lessons. There WILL be rewards for my children at the end of the lessons they are learning. There ARE definite rewards already for me.
I marvel at all the people who email me behind the scenes because they still can’t bear to talk about it openly. Even those brief notes are steps on their road to healing the hurts they’ve nurtured (often for many, many years) about raising what the world calls “bad” kids. As I tell them, if you fed them, clothed them, educated them, and loved them with the expectation that they learn through that love how to be caring, honest, hard working human beings IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT THAT THEY GOT STUPID!
This is a week of Thanksgiving. I am thankful for many, many things, but most especially my children… all of them. Even the ones that have disappointed me, hurt me, ignored me, used me, neglected me, and/or abandoned me. If you are one of them and you are reading this right now, know that you are still loved unconditionally. If you are one of my “lost lambs,” read this and know that you can come always home. God keeps giving me second chances – how could I do less for you? Xoxo (Dear readers - this relates to a very long and sad story that I would rather not go into. Please don't ask. Just pray for my lost lambs. Thanks.)
Peace, Blessings and fond wishes for a Grateful and Plentiful Turkey Day.
My strongest reason for talking about this stuff is so that other parents might understand that they aren’t to blame, either! Unless you happen to be the scumbag who introduced my 12-year-old son to pot. Then you can rot in hell for all I care! Or if you are the even worse scumbag who so seriously abused my daughter that she has both physical and mental scars that can never be erased. Then you can rot in the deepest, darkest recesses of the places so far below hell even the devil is afraid to go there!
Now, as far as I’m concerned, this chapter of my blog is closed to all future negativity. (As you can tell, I haven't published any of the negative comments, and won't, so give up!) As I tell all those I counsel – the best rewards come from the hardest lessons. There WILL be rewards for my children at the end of the lessons they are learning. There ARE definite rewards already for me.
I marvel at all the people who email me behind the scenes because they still can’t bear to talk about it openly. Even those brief notes are steps on their road to healing the hurts they’ve nurtured (often for many, many years) about raising what the world calls “bad” kids. As I tell them, if you fed them, clothed them, educated them, and loved them with the expectation that they learn through that love how to be caring, honest, hard working human beings IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT THAT THEY GOT STUPID!
This is a week of Thanksgiving. I am thankful for many, many things, but most especially my children… all of them. Even the ones that have disappointed me, hurt me, ignored me, used me, neglected me, and/or abandoned me. If you are one of them and you are reading this right now, know that you are still loved unconditionally. If you are one of my “lost lambs,” read this and know that you can come always home. God keeps giving me second chances – how could I do less for you? Xoxo (Dear readers - this relates to a very long and sad story that I would rather not go into. Please don't ask. Just pray for my lost lambs. Thanks.)
Peace, Blessings and fond wishes for a Grateful and Plentiful Turkey Day.
Friday, November 16, 2007
My Jailbirds - Answers to Meme queries
The fourth of my meme 8 has spurred some interesting questions. Here is a brief (well as brief as I am able to make it!) explanation.
My oldest son is 28, married, lives in Michigan with his wife and my two grandkittens, and is the assistant manager for some store there. I call him Bug for 2 reasons - he was always bugging me with very insightful questions that I didn't have answers to and he was fascinated with insects even as a small child. He and his wife (that still sounds strange to my Mommy ears!) are coming in for Christmas and I am so excited/nervous I can hardly stand it!
My 2nd is 25 and is, for at least the next 2 to 3 years, a guest of the Federal Prison System. He got involved with drug trafficking to support the habit he began when he was about 12. I always asked if a parent was going to be home at friends' houses. I always talked to the parent to confirm their presence... I never EVER thought to ask if the parent would introduce him to drugs!!!
By the time he was 18 we had spent close to $50,000 on lawyers, rehabs, counselors, fines, military school. We had also moved 2 times to try to get him into a better situation. NOTE TO THE WISE: If your child is hell bent on doing what he/she is going to do, moving will only provide an opportunity to find the same people wearing different faces in the new place. By the time he was 19 he was in state prison. By the time he was 21 he’d gotten out of state, reoffended and was in Federal Prison. He has not spent a birthday or a Christmas at home since he was 13.
THANK GOD his brain is now kicking in. Sadly, he’s realizing what a mess he’s made of his life. Happily, he starts college in January. Once again, it will cost us money, but we will gladly pay the price if it means he has a chance to straighten his life out for good. Right now he thinks he wants to be a counselor to try to guide kids away from the path he walked. I’m praying that his history will lend such credibility to his counsel that he will be able to spare other families the agony we have endured. He also wants to pursue his musical career. He writes some unbelievable stuff!
My 3rd is 16-1/2 and currently a guest of the County Juvenile Corrections Residential Facility. We adopted her at 11. We knew she came with a load of baggage and we will continue to stand by her and help her deal with her problems. However, after some reaaaaly bad stuff that happened in October, we told her that she would always have a place in our hearts, but she no longer (at least for a while) had a place in our home. When she went to court for her sentencing, we asked them to help us help her. The court, knowing that in the last 5 years we've spent over $30,000 on her counselors, lawyers, rehabs, psych hospitals, and medications (not including the adoption costs), agreed to keep her locked up, for her own benefit, until January when she should be going to military school. As long as she's confined and not out in the free using drugs or beating people up, she can't screw up her scholarship.
I do have to give her some serious credit, though, because when the judge asked her if she wanted to go home, she said flatly, NO. She explained to him that she knew she could not make it “out there” and feared she’d do something so detrimental that there would be no coming back from it. Her long term goals are to join the military, possibly the Coast Guard or the Marines. The school to which she has a scholarship will help her decide which is best. They will also help her learn self control and discipline in a way that we, as her parents, have been unable to manage. The program has approximately an 82% success rate with kids just like her. We are SO, SO, SO VERY BLESSED to have found it!
I am blogging all of this stuff because I know there are lots of families out there who deal with such issues, but are too ashamed or guilty feeling to mention it. I, on the other hand, have n.o.t.h.i.n.g. to be ashamed or guilty about. My children were raised with the right moral values in a loving, upper middle class home with both of their parents doting on them from the first moment we laid eyes on them. They were expected to do chores, earn an allowance, get good grades, tell the truth, and be respectful.
Were we perfect parents?? NO. Did we make mistakes along the way?? YES. But we always did the best we could with the tools we had, and EVERYTHING we EVER have done has been for the benefit and wellbeing of our children. PERIOD. We could have retired by now if it wasn’t for all the money we’ve spent trying to get them the help they need. But it’s not about the money – it’s about the LOVE. We could have thrown up our hands and walked away a long time ago, but that is not who we are. And it is definitely not in line with the moral values we want them to understand and live by.
As for those who think we somehow did something that screwed them up: I REFUSE to allow anyone to make me feel like a bad parent or a low life because of my kids’ choices. I REFUSE to hide my “dirty laundry” in an effort to avoid offending anyone, including the miscreant kids who dirtied up the stuff to begin with! My husband and I live by, and taught our kids to live by what we call the headline test: If you would be embarrassed to have it splashed across the front page of the newspaper, then DON’T DO IT!
If you are a parent with perfect children, get down on your knees and thank your creator that you were so awesomely blessed. If you are the parent of a child who, like ours, has spent a good part of life with his head stuck up the wrong part of his anatomy, take heart. If you know you did the best you could, then hang in there and believe that God is in control and things will eventually all balance out. If I didn’t have that to hang onto, I’d have to be locked up now. In a rubber room. With a nice clean white coat to help me hug myself to sleep.
Speaking of sleep – I’m going to bed and try not to have nightmares about what could be happening to my kids in places where I can’t protect them. A mother’s job, truly, never, never, ends!
As always – Peace and blessings, and sweet dreams.
My oldest son is 28, married, lives in Michigan with his wife and my two grandkittens, and is the assistant manager for some store there. I call him Bug for 2 reasons - he was always bugging me with very insightful questions that I didn't have answers to and he was fascinated with insects even as a small child. He and his wife (that still sounds strange to my Mommy ears!) are coming in for Christmas and I am so excited/nervous I can hardly stand it!
My 2nd is 25 and is, for at least the next 2 to 3 years, a guest of the Federal Prison System. He got involved with drug trafficking to support the habit he began when he was about 12. I always asked if a parent was going to be home at friends' houses. I always talked to the parent to confirm their presence... I never EVER thought to ask if the parent would introduce him to drugs!!!
By the time he was 18 we had spent close to $50,000 on lawyers, rehabs, counselors, fines, military school. We had also moved 2 times to try to get him into a better situation. NOTE TO THE WISE: If your child is hell bent on doing what he/she is going to do, moving will only provide an opportunity to find the same people wearing different faces in the new place. By the time he was 19 he was in state prison. By the time he was 21 he’d gotten out of state, reoffended and was in Federal Prison. He has not spent a birthday or a Christmas at home since he was 13.
THANK GOD his brain is now kicking in. Sadly, he’s realizing what a mess he’s made of his life. Happily, he starts college in January. Once again, it will cost us money, but we will gladly pay the price if it means he has a chance to straighten his life out for good. Right now he thinks he wants to be a counselor to try to guide kids away from the path he walked. I’m praying that his history will lend such credibility to his counsel that he will be able to spare other families the agony we have endured. He also wants to pursue his musical career. He writes some unbelievable stuff!
My 3rd is 16-1/2 and currently a guest of the County Juvenile Corrections Residential Facility. We adopted her at 11. We knew she came with a load of baggage and we will continue to stand by her and help her deal with her problems. However, after some reaaaaly bad stuff that happened in October, we told her that she would always have a place in our hearts, but she no longer (at least for a while) had a place in our home. When she went to court for her sentencing, we asked them to help us help her. The court, knowing that in the last 5 years we've spent over $30,000 on her counselors, lawyers, rehabs, psych hospitals, and medications (not including the adoption costs), agreed to keep her locked up, for her own benefit, until January when she should be going to military school. As long as she's confined and not out in the free using drugs or beating people up, she can't screw up her scholarship.
I do have to give her some serious credit, though, because when the judge asked her if she wanted to go home, she said flatly, NO. She explained to him that she knew she could not make it “out there” and feared she’d do something so detrimental that there would be no coming back from it. Her long term goals are to join the military, possibly the Coast Guard or the Marines. The school to which she has a scholarship will help her decide which is best. They will also help her learn self control and discipline in a way that we, as her parents, have been unable to manage. The program has approximately an 82% success rate with kids just like her. We are SO, SO, SO VERY BLESSED to have found it!
I am blogging all of this stuff because I know there are lots of families out there who deal with such issues, but are too ashamed or guilty feeling to mention it. I, on the other hand, have n.o.t.h.i.n.g. to be ashamed or guilty about. My children were raised with the right moral values in a loving, upper middle class home with both of their parents doting on them from the first moment we laid eyes on them. They were expected to do chores, earn an allowance, get good grades, tell the truth, and be respectful.
Were we perfect parents?? NO. Did we make mistakes along the way?? YES. But we always did the best we could with the tools we had, and EVERYTHING we EVER have done has been for the benefit and wellbeing of our children. PERIOD. We could have retired by now if it wasn’t for all the money we’ve spent trying to get them the help they need. But it’s not about the money – it’s about the LOVE. We could have thrown up our hands and walked away a long time ago, but that is not who we are. And it is definitely not in line with the moral values we want them to understand and live by.
As for those who think we somehow did something that screwed them up: I REFUSE to allow anyone to make me feel like a bad parent or a low life because of my kids’ choices. I REFUSE to hide my “dirty laundry” in an effort to avoid offending anyone, including the miscreant kids who dirtied up the stuff to begin with! My husband and I live by, and taught our kids to live by what we call the headline test: If you would be embarrassed to have it splashed across the front page of the newspaper, then DON’T DO IT!
If you are a parent with perfect children, get down on your knees and thank your creator that you were so awesomely blessed. If you are the parent of a child who, like ours, has spent a good part of life with his head stuck up the wrong part of his anatomy, take heart. If you know you did the best you could, then hang in there and believe that God is in control and things will eventually all balance out. If I didn’t have that to hang onto, I’d have to be locked up now. In a rubber room. With a nice clean white coat to help me hug myself to sleep.
Speaking of sleep – I’m going to bed and try not to have nightmares about what could be happening to my kids in places where I can’t protect them. A mother’s job, truly, never, never, ends!
As always – Peace and blessings, and sweet dreams.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Lucille TAGGED ME!!
mmm... Thanks??? LOL!!
Please go check her out at http://whosgoingtotellyou.blogspot.com/. She's great and her Walgreens saga is what legends are made of! LOL!! As a matter of fact, I think she's so cool that I copied her instructions on how to do this...
Here is how it works. I have to write 8 random things about me and then pass it on to 8 people. (Think chain letter.) There are a few rules one must follow to play the game. When tagged, you must link to the person who tagged you. Then post the rules before your list, and list eight random things about yourself. At the end of the post, you must tag and link to eight other people. Here are 8 random things about me:
1. This is not my first blog. I had one elsewhere... it was boring... I abandoned it and pray that some day it will just vanish into the cyper-ether.
2. I use to be a model.
3. I relinquished a beauty pageant crown and the scholarship money that went with it to get married the first time.
4. I currently have two children in jail. No, they weren't raised that way... And I don't feel shame or guilt because I'm not responsible for the stupid decisions they made that put them there. Long story - watch the blog for coming details.
5. My favorite nontraditional comfort foods are: Banana & Mayo sandwiches and Pork 'n beans & Corn soup. Another long story - watch the blog for an explanation.
6. My first car, purchased in 1976 after I was out of high school and earning my own money, was a 1969 or 1970 pastel yellow Ford LTD with forest green landau roof and interior. It looked just like the one in the link. It could comfortably haul 9 drunk college girls safely home after a night of disco dancing. And the green carpet hid barf stains quite nicely. No - I did NOT pick it out! My father did. A friend of my boss offered to sell me a 1969 Corvette... let me say that again... 1.9.6.9 CORVETTE! (It looked like the link only with white accents on the sides.) But my dad refused to co-sign for it because he said I'd end up killing myself. He was right. I still hated him for it, though, until I had teens of my own. They also wanted fast cars that I wouldn't buy. AAAAAHHH the circle of life! And, Yes - I loved disco. (Truth be told, I still do! I hope they bring it back by the time I'm ready to move into a retirement home.. I'll show 'em a move or 3!! I will now pause a moment to allow you to regain control and stop laughing uncontrollably!)
.....
.....
..... Better? OK.. continuing on...
7. I am ALWAYS the designated driver because I don't drink. Not that I don't like drinking - I LOVE a good margarita! - I just don't like who I am when I get drunk. Yes - that's another good story I'll be blogging about soon!
8. I think a boyfriend secretly videotaped our.... mmm... encounter one time. He was weird enough that it's probably now on the internet somewhere. At least I HOPE it is! If someone finds it would you PLEASE tell me so I can link to it to prove that at one time I was actually fine enough to have qualified for numbers 2 & 3 above??!!??!!
OK – I am so new here on Blogger that I don’t yet have a big circle of blogging friends… so what I was going to do was keep hitting the next button on some random blog and choose some that look interesting and sound like they were written by nice people that I’d like to get to know better. HOWEVER.. HAVE YOU EVER JUST KEPT HITTING THE NEXT BUTTON??? O-M-G!!!! The blogs that are out there AACK!! So, I opted, instead to follow comment links from blog to blog and read a little about each one. Here are some really cool looking blogs that make me want to know more about the writer.
If you are offended, I’ll apologize now. If not, I’d love to know when you complete your 8 things list! Email me at damama002@yahoo.com, please, so I can read all about you, too!
http://followingmycatracho.blogspot.com/
http://amandacreates.blogspot.com/
http://swampsuburbia.blogspot.com/
http://nsdesperatehousewife.blogspot.com/
http://ablogonastick.blogspot.com/
http://motherwise.us/cracks/
AND YOU.. if you are reading this and would like to participate, please let me know so I can learn about you, too.
I know, I know. The game isn’t called Tag 6 people. But I was up until 1:30 a.m. reading the six blogs I picked and here I am again this morning trying to find more… I GIVE UP! There a just too many great ones out there! I can’t spend all day reading them and then still have to figure out which two are most interesting!
LOL… so call me DaWimpyMama for today.
As always, Peace, Blessings and much, much, much more time to read all the wonderful stuff you folks write!
Please go check her out at http://whosgoingtotellyou.blogspot.com/. She's great and her Walgreens saga is what legends are made of! LOL!! As a matter of fact, I think she's so cool that I copied her instructions on how to do this...
Here is how it works. I have to write 8 random things about me and then pass it on to 8 people. (Think chain letter.) There are a few rules one must follow to play the game. When tagged, you must link to the person who tagged you. Then post the rules before your list, and list eight random things about yourself. At the end of the post, you must tag and link to eight other people. Here are 8 random things about me:
1. This is not my first blog. I had one elsewhere... it was boring... I abandoned it and pray that some day it will just vanish into the cyper-ether.
2. I use to be a model.
3. I relinquished a beauty pageant crown and the scholarship money that went with it to get married the first time.
4. I currently have two children in jail. No, they weren't raised that way... And I don't feel shame or guilt because I'm not responsible for the stupid decisions they made that put them there. Long story - watch the blog for coming details.
5. My favorite nontraditional comfort foods are: Banana & Mayo sandwiches and Pork 'n beans & Corn soup. Another long story - watch the blog for an explanation.
6. My first car, purchased in 1976 after I was out of high school and earning my own money, was a 1969 or 1970 pastel yellow Ford LTD with forest green landau roof and interior. It looked just like the one in the link. It could comfortably haul 9 drunk college girls safely home after a night of disco dancing. And the green carpet hid barf stains quite nicely. No - I did NOT pick it out! My father did. A friend of my boss offered to sell me a 1969 Corvette... let me say that again... 1.9.6.9 CORVETTE! (It looked like the link only with white accents on the sides.) But my dad refused to co-sign for it because he said I'd end up killing myself. He was right. I still hated him for it, though, until I had teens of my own. They also wanted fast cars that I wouldn't buy. AAAAAHHH the circle of life! And, Yes - I loved disco. (Truth be told, I still do! I hope they bring it back by the time I'm ready to move into a retirement home.. I'll show 'em a move or 3!! I will now pause a moment to allow you to regain control and stop laughing uncontrollably!)
.....
.....
..... Better? OK.. continuing on...
7. I am ALWAYS the designated driver because I don't drink. Not that I don't like drinking - I LOVE a good margarita! - I just don't like who I am when I get drunk. Yes - that's another good story I'll be blogging about soon!
8. I think a boyfriend secretly videotaped our.... mmm... encounter one time. He was weird enough that it's probably now on the internet somewhere. At least I HOPE it is! If someone finds it would you PLEASE tell me so I can link to it to prove that at one time I was actually fine enough to have qualified for numbers 2 & 3 above??!!??!!
OK – I am so new here on Blogger that I don’t yet have a big circle of blogging friends… so what I was going to do was keep hitting the next button on some random blog and choose some that look interesting and sound like they were written by nice people that I’d like to get to know better. HOWEVER.. HAVE YOU EVER JUST KEPT HITTING THE NEXT BUTTON??? O-M-G!!!! The blogs that are out there AACK!! So, I opted, instead to follow comment links from blog to blog and read a little about each one. Here are some really cool looking blogs that make me want to know more about the writer.
If you are offended, I’ll apologize now. If not, I’d love to know when you complete your 8 things list! Email me at damama002@yahoo.com, please, so I can read all about you, too!
http://followingmycatracho.blogspot.com/
http://amandacreates.blogspot.com/
http://swampsuburbia.blogspot.com/
http://nsdesperatehousewife.blogspot.com/
http://ablogonastick.blogspot.com/
http://motherwise.us/cracks/
AND YOU.. if you are reading this and would like to participate, please let me know so I can learn about you, too.
I know, I know. The game isn’t called Tag 6 people. But I was up until 1:30 a.m. reading the six blogs I picked and here I am again this morning trying to find more… I GIVE UP! There a just too many great ones out there! I can’t spend all day reading them and then still have to figure out which two are most interesting!
LOL… so call me DaWimpyMama for today.
As always, Peace, Blessings and much, much, much more time to read all the wonderful stuff you folks write!
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