The lil' nephews turn 3!

Have you ever seen anyone cuter? I love you, little dudes!

me2me2me2!

Because, ohmygoodness, so funny!

Click me! I found this clever person via Dooce, but somehow missed it in the middle of November. Loved it!

For the Auntie

moar Click here, Auntie G.

Most favorite LOLcat ev-ar.

When I first saw this little guy, I didn't know there was an actual site full of these, but I knew this made me giggle. Heartily! Also, I'm working on an actual post. About which I'm torqued up, so, that should be fun.


moar funi kittehs and walruzez

Another hee!

I was milling around in a quote website and found this on that made me laugh. It goes right along with my duplex theory.

"Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then." --Katharine Hepburn

Hee!

What happens when you're irritated with your boyfriend, as told by Allie.

[The end of the phone conversation]

He: "I love you."

She: "Well, you make me tired."

I like lots of things...

... but breathing is my favorite!

Hallowe'en Witch

Stolen

A Halloween Story

A bald man with a wooden leg gets invited to a Halloween party. He doesn't know what costume to wear to hide his head and his leg so he writes to a costume company to explain his problem. A few days later, he received a parcel with the following note:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a pirate's outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and, with your wooden leg, you will be just right as a pirate.

Very truly yours,
Acme Costume Co.

The man thinks this is terrible because they have emphasized his wooden leg and so he writes a letter of complaint. A week goes by and he receives another parcel and a note, which said:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a monk's habit. The long robe will cover your wooden leg and, with your bald head, you will really look the part.

Very truly yours,
Acme Costume Co.

Now the man is really upset since they have gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to emphasizing his bald head so again he writes the company another nasty letter of complaint. The next day he gets a small parcel and a note, which reads:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a bottle of molasses and a bag of crushed nuts. Pour the molasses over your bald head, pat on crushed nuts, stick your wooden leg up your ass and go as a caramel apple.

Very truly yours,
Acme Costume Co.

Happy birthday, Dadness.

Happy birthday, Dadness.

You're the one who introduced me to the concept of Not Crying Over Spilled Milk. It has translated into a pretty healthy mindset now that I've extrapolated it. As it turns out, all that stuff you told me would build character? It did. Thank you for everything you did and continue to do to make sure I am a decent human being. Everything good I am is because of you.

A bit of housecleaning.

I chose to hide/delete some comments over the last few weeks, and I wanted to address something that was asked of me. A right good question, in fact. Here it is.

Auntie G, I have carefully considered “Why I snapped” at Todd in the first place over the last few days, and I have a pretty clear picture why I did.

Anytime I do something which does not bring peace, hope, or unity happens when I’m living from fear. Whenever I’m able to do anything kind, generous, or unifying, happens when I’m living from a position of love.

Living from a position of love is the strangest, most responsible, most powerful, most delicious place to be, and yet… I forget. I forget and tip-toe back over to Fear, thinking maybe I won’t have what I need, or maybe my relationships will fail, or maybe I’m not good enough. All lies I tell myself, obviously.

Living in Fear is the opposite of who I actually am as part of the universe. Living in love is who I actually am. Fear itself is the static that seems to get louder and louder when I allow myself to go for days just running on pattern. (Get up, shower, dress, go to work, come home, think little.) Love is what happens, and is thus shared, when I remind myself to hush, be love, and go back to The Source. (I choose to call it God.) When I recognize myself as part of The Source, the source of love, peace, and unity, I don’t snap.

When I hush, listen, and connect with The Source through prayer and meditation, I am reminded of my home: Love. I am reminded who I am: Love. The Source quiets my self-made mind, and allows Love to live itself out in me.

Do I have this down pat? Fuck, no. But it’s awesome to know who I am. And what is possible because of the The Source.

I love it when...

...God does a miracle. And lets me participate. And then, just to top it all off, lets me see how love wins. Always.

From January to March of this year, Todd and I had a fairly regular visitor to our door. The first knock came when it was literally 2 degrees outside, and we were pretty much snowed in. Matt, we'll call him that because it's his name, knocked and offered to dig out the front walk. The help was well worth the money, so I hired him because a.) Todd was at work, and b.) I sure wasn't doing it when I could climb out if necessary. Hey, 2 freakin' degrees!

Matt was young, obviously homeless, and obviously drug addicted. It was also obvious that he still wanted to be proud of himself somehow, even in the midst of the very bad place his mind and body were living. After he was done shoveling, I paid him and asked where his shelter for the night was. He told me that he had a room for the night, and a few more dollars would pay for it, which is why he asked to shovel the walk. Because it was so damn cold, I told him to come in, be warm, and I'd bundle up then take him to his shelter. He refused, but I insisted, especially since this person was now in my home I couldn't in good conscience send him out to walk anywhere in that weather, wet from shoveling walks, and not the best coat I'd ever seen. Like, no way.

In the car on the way to "the shelter," he talked a little bit about where he went to college (an excellent school) and what sort of job he used to have (a well-paying one in a technical field). He said, "I bet you wonder how I got this way."

"No," I said, "I know how it happened. One of the most important people in the world to me is a recovering addict." I think he was a little surprised.

"What's so ridiculous is that I've relapsed. I was sober for seven months before I quit my recovery."

I told him I was sorry and asked him what was his drug of choice. "Crack."

"Honey, you're going to die," I said. "You already know where I live, here's my card. Call me any time of the day or night if you need to go to a meeting or can get into an inpatient program. I'll drive you."

Matt wasn't quite done beating the shit out of himself, and showed up probably six or seven more times over those three months. Once I knew what his drug was, we resisted giving him any more than a few dollars at a time, and just had him come in and talk and eat. My sweet chef fed him several times and made him feel welcome in our home, even though it made him so very sad. Whenever Matt came by, it left Todd with a deep sadness because his situation was so desperate, and seemed so hopeless. I was always thankful that Todd didn't prevent me from inviting him in and that he shared with Matt even though it made him sad. I always offered to wash or dry his clothes if he wanted, but he never let me.

The last time we talked, he was especially exhausted. He admitted that he wasn't going to keep his life up much longer, and he needed help. He told me he'd have to turn himself in, do 30 days for probation violation, and then get inpatient treatment. I asked him to please, please let me know when he got in.

We had never heard from Matt again, but Todd and I talked about him often, and I prayed for him a LOT. I talked about him to Tina and Terri, and he was never really far from my mind.

Friday, Todd and I were talking about him and hoping he'd gone into recovery and that's why we never heard from him anymore. I chose to believe that he had, but sometimes I was scared that he'd gotten high and wandered into traffic or something. I just hoped with all my heart that his parents had not had to lose him. I had no way to get hold of them or him.

Saturday, at about noon, the doorbell rang.

Since I was feeling under the weather that day, Todd answered the door, went out and pulled the door mostly shut behind him. A young, healthy, nice-looking, smiling guy said, "Hi!" Todd had no idea who this person was. He obviously thought Todd should know him. "You don't remember me, do you?" Then, Matt asked, "Is that Stacey in there?" Todd said he looked like he was about to cry, even through his smile.

"Matt! I didn't recognize you, man. Come in!"

I cried, I hugged him, we all tried to control ourselves. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. Matt said we had been on his mind a lot over the last seven months, and because he was working on his 9th step ("make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others") wanted to come talk with us. He was entirely honest about his dealings with us in the past. I was absolutely inspired by how responsible he was in his conversation.

In addition to telling the truth about his past, we also learned that he's been doing the serious work of recovery since the middle of March, he's enjoying his life, has a nice car, a great job, and people he loves, including his parents. He's also pretty excited about his motorcycle.

He also thanked us for -- and this is the part that will stick with us forever -- treating him with love and humanity when people were looking at him like he was a shrub.

He asked if there was anything he could do to make amends for the lies he had told, and for showing up unexpectedly so many times. We assured him that he was doing just that by letting God take over, healing his addictions, and living the beautiful life that he was meant to live. He wasn't satisfied with just that, and left a gift for us, as well.

The sweetest gift, though, was the letter he left telling us that he understands life to be what "you showed me" at the beginning of this year: love for and service to others.

I have never been so humbled or thrilled to be a very tiny part of someone's miracle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You must behave as if your every act, even the smallest,

impacted a thousand people for a hundred generations... because it does."

-- Müller

FYI

I am a "Cool History/Lit Geek"

I'm not really a waitress, either.

OK, here are mine:

Mary Kay
Pink Starshine
Pink Bikini

Sinful Colors
Crux
Celia

Sally Hansen
Tranquil Taupe
Supershine (2)

L'Oreal
Bijoux Holographics Island Twilight
Sheer Innocence
Dripping Rubies
Moonlit Mauve (an all-time favorite ltd edition that I can't find ANYWHERE!)
Rose Zing
Firma Nail
Go Chili
Sheer Bliss

Victoria's Secret
Platinum

OPI
Windy City Pretty
Lincoln Park After Dark
Los Angeles Latte
Up the Amazon Without a Paddle
Pompeii Purple
Shanghai Shimmer
Maui Mango
Jewel of India
Kimono'ver Here
OPI Red (2)
Cajun Shrimp
Prince George's Passion
Mrs. O'Leary's BBQ
Magala Wine
Sonora Sunset
You're Such a Kabuki Queen
La Paz-itively Hot
Queen of De Nile
Strawberry Margarita
I'm Not Really a Waitress

While I only have 37 listed here -- a sad number by any Numb3r standards -- I'm sure I have 6-8 more rolling around in various bathroom drawers. It's a crime against humanity. ;-)

For my LOLCAT loving friends.

You have seen I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER, yes? No? Click here and go see. I will wait.

...waiting...

OK, now that you've sampled, I want to share with you what my soul sister sent to me today, and I snorted with GLEE, I tell you! Glee!

This is the Lord's Prayer in LOLCAT. Yes, it's not terribly reverent, but damn it's funny.


DadCat ovr Ceiling
Ur name it rly rly g00d
Somday Ur kingdom we has it
U say whut, we does, on floor n ovr Ceiling
We can has cheezburger evry dai k?
We be bad U no sqrt bottl k?
N if sombody be bad 2 us we no bite
No mak us badkitties k?
Badstuff -- DO NOT WANT!
Kingdom, U has it! Ur pwning all teh d00dz! 4EVAH!
KTHXBAI

If you click the link on LOLCAT above, it will take you to a translator. It's definitely not as good as this one, but it's a start on the stupidity-fest that makes me laugh EVERY DAY.

BWHAHAHA!!

Tonight Todd said of my Facebook picture (seen here)


I saw that picture and I thought, "She's been divorced twice. But, how many has she killed?"

About nothing better than a funny man.

Letter: 38 years and 10 days old.

Anaheim, Calif.
Oct. 2nd, 1969

Miss Stacey Leigh
514 Garrison Dr.
California, Md.

Dear Stacey,

This is probably the first letter you have ever received and the writer feels highly honored because of your arrival, it has made me a Great Grandfather, something I never thought I would be lucky enough to be.

Of course you can’t read yet so your parents will have to read it for you.

Now your G. Grandfather would like the privilege of helping to make you comfortable during your first year and there are only two things a little lady of your age needs to keep her in solid comfort, one is a nice warm bottle of milk and the other is a dry diaper. I inquired about the cost of keeping one baby in diapers for one year and the diaper laundry said they would furnish everything for 250.00. It may be more or less where you live, so I am enclosing a check made out to you for 500.00 and if there is any left you can always buy an all-day-sucker or an ice cream cone with the rest.

Now here is some good advice that will also help to keep you comfortable, when you feel hungry or a little damp, you just start to yell (just a little bit at first) and if no one pays attention to you, just yell louder and louder until you get some service. Now don’t feel that you are being unusual, because this is a racket (or method) that has been forever successful. Now after your parents have made you comfortable again, all you have to do is goo and smile a little, because that’s all the pay they want. Now don’t overdo that yell business, because they might just get smart and quit jumping so quick.

Since the check is made out to you personally, it will be necessary for your fingerprint to appear above your mother’s signature before the check can be cashed.

Here are some other things you will probably learn yourself: those two things that keep showing up in front of your face with those wiggly things on the end of them are your hands, and you will be surprised how many things you can do with them. Also, the two other things you see once in a while are your feet. Now those feet are very handy when you learn to balance on them they will keep you right-side-up. When you feel hoppy, you can use them to hop, skip, and jump, and you can also kick people with them, but the latter is not practical.

Last but not least: you have two very fine parents who will take care of all the details for you, they will love and care for you until you are able to take care of yourself.

You are from good stock and I want to welcome you to the clan.

Love to you & your parents,
your G. Grandfather
John D. Moss

Happy, yet insane.

I'm shitty at living with people. I know this because I adore Todd, and yet I snap at him. For idiot things that do not matter. Someone, please tell me how to calm the crap down.

I'm open for suggestions and coaching, starting now.

Go.

Best misspelling of the week.

For an amythest ring I happened upon over at craigslist.org:

Amithithist & diamond ring - $30

Great price, though.

A poem by Carl Dennis.

The God Who Loves You

It must be troubling for the god who loves you
To ponder how much happier you’d be today
Had you been able to glimpse your many futures.
It must be painful for him to watch you on Friday evenings
Driving home from the office, content with your week—
Three fine houses sold to deserving families—
Knowing as he does exactly what would have happened
Had you gone to your second choice for college,
Knowing the roommate you’d have been allotted
Whose ardent opinions on painting and music
Would have kindled in you a lifelong passion.
A life thirty points above the life you’re living
On any scale of satisfaction. And every point
A thorn in the side of the god who loves you.
You don’t want that, a large-souled man like you
Who tries to withhold from your wife the day’s disappointments
So she can save her empathy for the children.
And would you want this god to compare your wife
With the woman you were destined to meet on the other campus?
It hurts you to think of him ranking the conversation
You’d have enjoyed over there higher in insight
Than the conversation you’re used to.
And think how this loving god would feel
Knowing that the man next in line for your wife
Would have pleased her more than you ever will
Even on your best days, when you really try.
Can you sleep at night believing a god like that
Is pacing his cloudy bedroom, harassed by alternatives
You’re spared by ignorance? The difference between what is
And what could have been will remain alive for him
Even after you cease existing, after you catch a chill
Running out in the snow for the morning paper,
Losing eleven years that the god who loves you
Will feel compelled to imagine scene by scene
Unless you come to the rescue by imagining him
No wiser than you are, no god at all, only a friend
No closer than the actual friend you made at college,
The one you haven’t written in months. Sit down tonight
And write him about the life you can talk about
With a claim to authority, the life you’ve witnessed,
Which for all you know is the life you’ve chosen.

Carl Dennis, “The God Who Loves You” from Practical Gods. Copyright © 2001 by Carl Dennis.

Between courses.

Welcome to your own kitchen, thank you for dining at home. Your chef is your server, and tipping is welcomed. Though, no money is accepted. (Nudge-nudge, wink-wink.)

I'm sitting at my kitchen table, having just eaten a divine salad of red onion, greens, a tiny dab of bleu cheese, and some crunchy hearts of palm. Now I'm between courses, and Todd is working on a wine sauce for some beef he's roasting. No, it's really not on the Body-for-Life plan, but it's certainly a celebration meal. My SEVEN interviews went wonderfully well. Every time I think, "There's just no way I'll find another team as amazing as the one I'm working with now..." it happens. I meet more amazing people. Every single person was smart, talented, and driven. And most of them also came equipped with a sense of humor. After a few of the interviews, the manager (who I'd already spoken with) came back and said, "Now, there's a bit of concern among the team members. They wanted to ask if you're able to provide a certain amount of 'sick and twisted' to the mix." WOO HOO!

This was the perfect time to let them in on the secret that I only have about six hours per day of "normal" and that's sort of a rare day. He was pleased, and indeed indicated that six hours may have been a few more than most of the team was able to accomplish. I assured him that the six hours don't happen consecutively.

It would appear that beef and polenta is coming my way, so I'll close for now. More later, including how I tipped the chef. You know, if it isn't too personal.

Off to see the wizard. Or something like that.

Somehow, it seems that Monday is upon me again.

This week there will be new things in my life... including the beginning of a new pursuit of physical and spiritual health. I had originally planned on doing a course called Mastery through the same company I did my leadership coaching program, but decided to choose something else. Some friends of mine and I are going to pursue some education, including inviting a teacher or two to hang with us for a weekend retreat. Also, I found a retreat in Virginia in January that has some speakers I want to hear. Todd wants to go back to the church on 16th and Delaware near our house. I'm up for that, too.

And Tina and I are starting the daily workout before office hours. GAH! Wish me discipline.

AND my soul sister and I are starting Body-for-Life. I have GOT to plan for that tomorrow, or the whole schedule will be thrown off.

Yes, I know this entry was thrilling.

Love!

Fourth day of a diet, indeed.

I neglected to post yesterday, as was my vague idea, but apparently not my intention.

I've been scheduled for seven interviews on Tuesday, for a the job (within corporate America) that I love. I've been doing the identical job for a different team for the last four months or so, filling in for a woman who has been on maternity leave. I LURVE this job, and am looking forward to doing it on a more permanent basis.

Let us back up. SEVEN interviews. One day. Sounds fun, no? Actually, what's funny is I do not mind interviews one bit. Maybe it's the performer in me, and maybe it's that this is actually the job I want as long as I'm hanging around an office anyway. (The position is Editor of a Brand Team. EDITING AND MARKETING. Life is sweet sometimes, you know?) In any case, I don't mind an interview or two. Or seven.

I have more things to say about work, but right now, I'm going back upstairs to lie down and read some more. I'm home alone, it is silent, and I'm not obligated to do anything but read.

Slice o' heaven, as far as I can tell.

Love!

Congratulations, anonymous commenter.

Congratulations, you win! You've irritated me enough that I'm dedicating a post to YOU. Enjoy this attention, as this is all you get.

To answer all of your comments and questions at once, here you go:

• I don't know your identity by name, but I do know it by character. I learned this by your actions, i.e., the following: You started by questioning my love for an loyalty to God. You followed that up with an exaggeration of my failed relationships that was meant to be demeaning. Then, you hinted that you might want physical affection from me. (I did take that as a very lame joke.) I don't require anyone of your character anywhere in my life.
• You are a festival of judement from marriages, to swearing, to drinking.
• You've talked in your comments as though you know me and my family, yet do not reveal your name.
• You've spelled my name wrong, which is a sign of laziness among other things.
• You don't pay attention when you read me, as I didn't say I "still wanted to have kids."
• The time when I'll allow you to comment on my blog again is "never."
• Your use of "........................." is ridiculous. There is no such punctuation in English.

You're, of course, welcome to keep reading and commenting. However, I will continue to ignore comments from anonymous readers.

At the behest of Christel.

Once upon a lovely time, Lola and I drove down to Dande’s house in West Virginia, -- where Christel had already arrived -- for a visit. I must confess that I was one wornthehellout girl when we arrived because, Lola? Fucking hilarious. She made me laugh about every 45 seconds the entire way from Louisville to BFE.

When we arrived, we piled out of the car with all our worldly goods, and into Dande’s dining room, where we commenced the tequila shots. (If you know me in person, you know that practically everything makes me hot: too many layers of clothes, the room being three degrees warmer than I prefer, pantyhose, summer, etc. Christel always says I should come visit her in Texas, but she’s afraid that unless I sleep in a chest freezer I’ll spontaneously combust. She’s probably right. I digress.) So, of course, I announced to the room that “tequila makes me hot!” Dande parried with “tequila makes me naked!” She totally won, yes?

Our darlin' Dande, who is also Holly Homemaker on Crack, made the most delicious foods for our collective consumption, including Heavenly Hummus (I just named it that), and various baked products which were all good enough to transport us from her darlin' house in the holler directly to paradise. We ate and ate. And, in order to combat our heartbreak over the fact that Allie wasn't able to join us for this visit, Dande, her fab hubby, Christel, Lola, and I drank to excess. Oh man, did we ever. I don't remember many of the hilarious things that were said and done that evening, but I certainly do recall that I stupidly and happily consumed no fewer than three shots of tequila, something like four margaritas (two shots tequila each AND triple sec), and, just for good measure, two beers. (Two beers?)

Let's just say that the next morning I only survived because Dande's dude made me lots of fried foods. I swore off drinking for.ever. Because, to quote Christel -- who was 100% correct -- I was s. t. rugglin'.

We did all manner of silly girl things that day, including shopping at the town's major retailer, The Dollar General. Mostly, I spent lots of time lying on the blow up mattress in the living room. Naturally, later that night, we went to Redneck Karaoke (Dande named it that.) Further, I drank about seven beers. (Seven?!)

In any case, we piled home after singing Earl Had to Die at the top of our lungs in a group, of course, and ate more ridiculous greasy things. Not the least of which was the delicious snack I made up because I am a dork: squirt cheese on Lay's potato chips. Yum.

I miss you girls. All y'all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I realized after I was nearly asleep that I left out an important part of this story! The best part of Lays and squirt cheese is that I was sitting right by Christel, in the same damn chair, and we were giggling and snorting with glee!!!!!!!!

No matter HOW happy you are with your lovin' man...

...there are days. And on those days, THIS (from my soul sister) is hilarious!

The world's shortest fairy tale

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?" The girl said "NO!" And the girl lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing, camping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn't get fat, traveled more, had many lovers, didn't save money, and had all the hot water to herself. She went to the theater, never watched sports, never wore friggin' lacy lingerie that went up her ass, had high self esteem, never cried or yelled, felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants and was pleasant all the time.

THE END

11 p.m. again!

This post is just to keep my word on blogging daily for 30 days. (Or 60 or 90 or a year, as I'm prayerfully considering.) I'm sleepy and going to have a nice nap now. I'm taking suggestions on tomorrow's blog entry. You know, requests. The only thing I won't do is House of the Rising Sun. (Hi, mom!)

I continue to be grateful for breath, peace, and challenge.

BIG love!

Some thoughts for 11:00 p.m.

What is your vision? If someone pointed a weapon, say, a gun, at your head, and insisted that you reveal the vision you have for your life and the world you live in, what would you say? Do you have any idea what your vision is?

I'd like to suggest that your vision is at least partly what you currently have. So, if you're living in a (super cool) duplex on Pennsylvania St., that's your vision. And by "you," I mean me. I know that part of my vision is to live in a duplex on Penn, with my a-dorable boyfriend and our dog, to struggle with my weight, to seek God and a relationship with Her (hi, fundamentalists!), to dig deep and get honest about my ability to partner with someone for the rest of my life (hi, those who judge my divorces!), to discover what my calling is (I think I just may know!), to pray with raw honesty about my desire -- or lack thereof -- to have children, and to begin contributing purposefully with all the gifts I showed up on this planet possessing. It's an exciting life.

The rest of your vision is the "who" you will be. The who you're preparing to be. The one you know you can be. And by "you", of course, I mean me. The utter magic of this whole thing, I think, is that I already am this person... I'm just figuring out how to conduct myself as her, instead of the bad habits and smokescreens that I live with day to day.

Same for you, you know. You probably already knew this. You already knew you are a rockstar mom or dad, a contributor to your community, a leader, a lover, an athlete. I didn't know these things concretely about myself, until recently. I expect I'll forget sometimes along the way.

Remind me who I am, will you? Remind yourself how amazing you are, too.

BIG love!

Notification

I recently tried to fix the Numbers picture so that we all looked less stretched out horizontally, and now I can't get the damn thing to work at ALL. Every time I post the picture, it cuts Allie off completely. And a Nummas Pitcher just ain't right without us all. So, until I figure it out, the Nummas pic is off.

Love!

Multipurpose words.

Todd was telling Matt about his menus ofthe last few weeks and some ideas for future parties. The following food items came up:

Beet Terrine
Savory Crisp

We decided they're also good drag names.

Colts win!

I live in the home of the reigning Super Bowl Champions, and am only semi-sad to say, I don't really care all that much.

What's funny is I'm not a huge fan of the team, but I am a huge fan of the people involved. For example, I think Coach Dungy is an absolute rockstar. And, I am always incredibly thrilled when the Colts win because of the fans I love -- mostly my brother, Matt, and Wandaful. Anyway, I just checked Indystar.com, and the Colts won again. WOOT!

This week, that means Matt, one of my dearest friends EVER and a 10-year resident of Seattle, is on his way to my house. Because he just attended the game. Here, in Indianapolis. This trip, he was in this part of the country because his brother's wedding was last night. Usually, however, he'll just pop into town for a game or two every season. Yay, more Matt for me!

He's here, I'm out!

Happy Saturday, y'all.

Hi. I'm Stacey and I'm really too old for bachelorette parties. My friend Joleigh is getting married on October 13, and last night we did the pre-wedding party of debauchery. Well, as debaucherous as a bunch of grown, responsible women get in public.

There were kick-ass hors d'oeuvre at our house -- Todd made them, of course! Then some delicious Greek food at Santorini, a favorite restaurant in a hip part of town, a really entertaining drag show at an excellent club in a different (also hip) neighborhood, then and only then, a stripper at the lovely home of another friend, Tina.

I only had to yell once (hee!), and it was because the stripper had gone down to g-string, and was lying on his stomach across the laps of three of the guests. The woman who had the best booty access wasn't touching the booty, or even looking at it! So I said, "Linda, grab that ass, that's what it's there for!" The whole thing was really funny. And, really, not sexy at all. The fully-clothed photographer guy (who was there experimenting with selling instant event photos) was far more intriguing to all of us girls than was the stripper.

It was a great, great time with some of the best friends I have. After the semi-naked dude and his photo dude left, we visited for a couple of hours, and this is when I had the most fun of the evening. It's also when most of the cocktails were consumed. I sobered up to drive home and STILL ended up with a hangover the next day.

When did I turn 38? I swear I thought I was still 22.

Just maybe.

So, I recently read an article found here in Christianity Today. (It’s not current; I was just found it in a recent search for an essay by Anne Lamott.) The following quote from the article reminded me of something I’ve been ruminating on for a while:

The idea of everyone enjoying God for eternity appeals to me—as I'm sure it does to God—yet it's hard to reconcile with verses such as John 3:16 and Jesus' assertion that "no one comes to the Father except through me."

Here’s what I’ve been thinking about. This summer, I attended a lecture at the home of the former First Lady of Indiana, Mrs. Judy O’Bannon. A remarkable woman who has taken up the life of a servant was speaking at this gathering. Her name is Dr. Dwabha Prabhavati, and she has been called into a life of service to the poorest, least powerful people on the planet, “the untouchable” children of Rishikesh, India. She founded and runs Ramana’s Garden, a school for poor and orphaned children there in Rishikesh.

During her talk, she was luminous with love for her own life and for the lives of the people with whom she is living and working. Someone in the audience asked about religious education for the children. She replied that the children are exposed to all major world religions, and that they were free to believe as they wished, but that exposure to philosophies and religions is part of their regular education. At the time I wondered how the person who asked the question felt about her answer, as I do live in a part of the U.S. where Christianity, and that evangelical, is somewhat considered the standard.

After the talk, another guest and I were talking about the work Dr. Prabhavati was doing, and how inspired we were by her great love for people and her intentional life of service. I instinctively knew the other guest was a Christian, as am I, and said to her about Dr. Prabhavati’s work, “If children are being loved and fed, I assume Jesus is already there.”

Sometimes I don’t know what I think until I see what I say.

What if Jesus' assertion that "no one comes to the Father except through me” means “If you have experienced God, you have come through me, whether you know my name or not”?

Couldn’t that be true?

When the “least of these” are being loved and fed, I assert that Jesus is already there. When the brokenhearted are being comforted, I believe Jesus is already there. When judgment is reserved and love is shown instead, Jesus is already there. When joy explodes, when health is restored, when laughter is heard after a long cry, Jesus is already there.

Many are blessed to know him by name. Many more are blessed to know him by his presence.

Squeaked in under deadline.

Today was the day o' exercise. I know this shocks and surprises, well, pretty much anyone who knows me. I was at fitness boot camp by 5:45 a.m., and at belly dancing lessons by 6:00 p.m. In the interim, I worked, ate, and tried not to fall asleep. Which is what I'm going to do now. The sleeping part, that is.

Turns out I wasn't any sharper or more brilliant today; however, I did post.

Miss Doxie has had a run of her funniest looks from childhood, and I'm thinking seriously of joining that trend. My hair alone will be good for several laughs.

See y'all tomorrow.

Love!

Stuff that's making us laugh right now.

So, you know how one says, "about as dumb as a bag of hammers"? (See: Beth's former dog, Lucy, a.k.a. "Hammers.")

Well, just a few minutes ago, Todd says, "...that's about as useful as a pillow case full of raccoon turds"...and I snorted. Now we shall create more of these very, very sad little similies. Please add your own in the comments section.

That's as dumb as...

• a bag of hammers
• a pillow case full of raccoon turds
• a box of hair (Yes, yes, I know. These are getting us warmed up.)
• a blonde girl wearing a blonde wig

Here's where I tell you that this seemed like a better blog idea than it actually is. Hee! Thankfully, this whole blog experiment is mostly for my veryownpersonal entertainment. If you have some of these sayings you like to use, please share!

I'm joining Allie in her 30-day-writing-daily quest. Check back here Thursday for something entirely better, and far more intelligent. I definitely plan on being the shiniest knife in the crayon box tomorrow!

Quote from Sam and a fellow blogger.

As Samuel Johnson said, "the prospect of imminent death concentrates the mind wonderfully;" and for all I know, my death may be mere heartbeats away. I'm young, but I've had friends who died younger. I'm healthy, but I've had friends who died healthier. The path from the womb leads to the tomb.

For those of us who know that death is but a sleep and an awakening, the fact that we are all dying is not cause for alarm. But it is cause for deliberate living.

Reprint

I'm feeling this (previous) post so much today. I'm so RIDICULOUSLY grateful for forgiveness. And am grateful for new days and new opportunities to be what God means for me to be. Enjoy the reprint!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you hear the words "incredible body" what comes to mind?

When you hear "incredible body" do you think Angelina Jolie? Tyra Banks? A shirtless Johnny Depp? Maybe Orlando Bloom? Or do you just think of individual body parts like shapely legs, hard chest, shredded stomach muscles, vanilla ice cream scoop breasts, or something else? Living in this media-infused society, I'd not be surprised if every one of us thought of the incredible body as a taller-than-average, perfectly-complexioned, very wealthy, famous, slender, well-muscled, specimen. Nothing wrong with any of those attributes, either. I can even say without a grain of insincerity that I'd take some of those attributes for myself. Vast wealth can be appealing, after all.

I'd like to introduce you to another incredible body. Several of them, actually.

My friend Lauren's incredible body is one of amazing strength and endurance. She's not tall, nor thin, and the girl will flat out tell you she has Fred Flintstone feet. Lauren was born with Spina Bifida, a spinal injury that could easily have rendered her severely physically disabled. Instead, Lauren cared for her body, took it to the doctor, prayed for it, recruited her family and friends to pray for it, loved it, taught it Yoga, and spoke to it so that it would know how much it was loved, even though it wasn't always healthy. Guess what: Lauren has an incredible body. And it's not going to end up severely disabled, it's going to carry children, and it's going to last her a long time. Yep, incredible.

My friend Shannon has lived through several battles with cancer. The last time she fought with it (and won) the doctors told her to say goodbye to the kids and the family and prepare to meet Jesus. When nothing else was working, Shannon took her very ill body out of the hospital where the negative doctors were working. The doctors who spoke of her as though she were already dead. And then she made her own body well. She gave it the love and care it needed, complete with raw food, raw juice, and all the other stuff she will happily tell you about. She prayed, recruited her family and friends to pray, loved it, and spoke to it, as well. Her body got well. Healed itself! And produced another beautiful son after all that. Incredible body! I know you agree.

My Very Best Friend's incredible body has given birth to the five sweetest, most beautiful, most wonderful children on this planet. I haven't seen her naked in a while, but I'm betting she's not quite as thrilled with her physical self as she was when we were 19. Again, utterly not my point. Her body is strong, and healthy, and is the actual location where the souls of her children met their own physical bodies. That's not a small miracle. Indeed, incredible.

What would my little essay be without mentioning myownself? (Again, not famous for humility, me.) In the last couple of years I've learned some great stuff about me, one of those being that I, too, have an incredible body. I've never been fatter, or cuter, in my life. I have gorgeous skin -- everywhere, the best hair sculpture north of the Mason-Dixon Line, dark chocolate eyes, and looooooooong eyelashes. I also have amazing tits. Again, oh-so not my point. The point is, everything works. Everything is healthy. Everything is even proportionate! I'm so incredibly grateful for my fuctioning, healthy, wonderful body that knows how to walk, wake, sleep, and, thank God, breathe. Incredible; even the very basics are nothing less than an absolute miracle.

When I was a child I read a book that someone had given to my father when he was a child. It had lots of short stories inside, one of which has always been with me. The daughter in the story was frequently embarrassed by the odd-looking arms and hands of her mother. She wanted her mother to hide her hands and arms from her little friends. The mother was careful to protect the child from embarrassment. However, the story eventually revealed that the mother's arms were terribly scarred from burns she sustained while saving the daughter from a house fire when she was a baby. A scarred, incredible body.

You probably already know there's another scarred, incredible body that saved us from fire, too.

The incredible body is temporarily connected to the soul, which makes even the broken, the trapped, the thoroughly undone body intensely beautiful. The soul is what makes us indispensable to eternity and to one another. I know you knew that.

Until we arrive in the eternity provided by the scarred body of God, we all have somewhere incredible to live.

Who knew Ben Harper was a philosopher?

"Folks don't change, they just reveal." - Ben Harper

Quote of the Day

A good friend of mine, who did me the honor of letting me "talk her through" some things, said the following to me, "What are you, some sort of fucking life coach?"

(For those of you wondering, I answered, "Yes.")

More later, but have a laugh on me for now!

Truth

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.

~Steve Jobs

Today's Inspiration

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

~Dr. Howard Thurman

I love my life.

If for no other reason than that people love me enough to make me tell the truth. Thank GOD for that. I love you, Tina! And, I'll see you at the Tin-Man Triathlon in Hawaii in the summer of 2009.

My VBF and My Nephew: Famous and CUTE!

Beth and Jude were published in this article in the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette. The rest of the family is in the article, too! I could not love these people more if I tried.

Witness to Miracles

It's been so long since my heart has walked around in the world in an utter fit of gratitude. But that's what I have right now. I smile a lot. I laugh more. I drive down the highway with tears streaming down my face, beautiful truths rushing toward me -- things I know truly are miracles.

Seriously, how likely is it that I'm blessed to have so many friends who are authentic with me and themselves? And new people come in the door all the time; amazing ones.

Who ever heard of having a girlfriend (one that you made when you were both in your thirties) who allows you to mother her, sister her, kick her ass, and tell her the absolute truth. I mean that I say, "Girl, this is where you tell the truth about this, or I WILL. Go." And then she does. Who ever heard of having ONE friend like that? And I have, what, seven? My cup runneth over. Like crazycakes.

Who ever heard of having a girlfriend like that for 25 years? I have. And a male friend like that, too? I even have one of those!

Who ever heard of having a mentor that can read you like she was actually IN your head? One who knows what you need, and is so in tune with you and with God, *and* is so generous, that she offers exactly what you need? And you didn't even know what it was you needed until she said it aloud? Um, miracle anyone?

Who ever heard of, after years of sleeping with the phone by my head (just in case), sleeping soundly and dreaming sweetly because your brother is sober and in love with God? The twenty months of peace in our family are worth the desperation of the 10 years before them.

Who ever heard of finding friends you thought you lost, discovering you have a heart you weren't sure could be big enough, exercising the courage to create, and smashing through the bad habits to discover who I really am? Feels like a miracle to me.

Who ever heard of having a new chance to move toward the self God created me to be every single day? It's a huge life. I'm grateful.

Scattergories Meme

SCATTERGORIES...it's harder than it looks!

Rules: Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following...They MUST be real places, names, things...NOTHING made up! If you can't think of anything, skip it. Try to use different answers if the person before you had the same 1st initial. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question. Once you're done, forward on to friends and back to the person who sent it to you. Now go! Or, you know, post.

1. Your Name: Stacey
2. Famous singer/band: Sting
3. 4 letter word: Sing
4. Street name: Speedway Drive
5. Gifts/presents: Silver
6. Vehicle: Saturn VUE
7. Items on a menu: Spinach dip
8. Boy Name: Stephan
9. Girl Name: Sally
10. Movie Title: Shawshank Redemption
11. Drink: Singapore Sling (2 pts!)
12. Occupation: Student
13. Flower: Sweet William
14. Celebrity: Sharon Stone (Score 2 points for first and last name!)
15. Magazine: Saveur (we actually get this one.)
16. US City: Spartanburg, South Carolina (2 pts!)
17. Reason for Being Late for Work: Sick
18. Something U Throw Away: Scraps
19. Things You Shout: Shut it!
20. Cartoon Character: Seymour Skinner (2 pts!)

One of those quiz thingies.

Your Aura is Violet

Idealistic and thoughtful, you have the mind and ideas to change the world. And you have the charisma of a great leader, even if you don't always use it! The purpose of your life: saying truths that other people dare not say Famous purples include: Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony Careers for you to try: Political Activist, Inventor, Life Coach

What Color Is Your Aura?

Yep, we've seen this before, BUT...

So lovely. And so empowering when opened up at the right moment.

Last Tears
-E. Sailers-

These are the last tears I'm gonna cry for you
My cryin's through I'm moving on
I don't regret and won't forget
A single thing that we went through
But there are the last tears I'm gonna cry for you

You take things so much easier than I do
And you could live your life without me if you had to
And you believe that in the end it all works out right
And I might if not for you
And if you ask one which one lives just alone for love
I do

There was a time when all signs pointed to the warm south
The planets all lined up and built a new house
And everything we talked about felt like a prophecy
And when you looked at me they all came true
And if you asked which one wants to go the distance
I do

I'm gonna rack my mind one last time until I cannot think
I'm gonna dip into your memory and take a good stiff drink
And when I'm drunk on the last drop of sadness about how we went wrong
I'm gonna play this song
Make some coffee black and strong
Give thanks for healing time
And finally make up my mind

These are the last tears I'm gonna cry for you
My cryin's through I'm moving on
I don't regret and won't forget
A single thing that we went through
But there are the last tears I'm gonna cry for you.

It was SO time for a meme.

[1] What was the highlight of your week?
My new job.

[2] Whose car were you in last?
Mine.

[3] When is the next time you will kiss someone?
Whenever I see Terri this afternoon.

[4]What color shirt are you wearing?
Black.

[5] How long is your hair?
Short and cute.

[6] When was the last time you read the bible?
This week.

[7] Last movie you watched?
Um. I forget.

[8] Last thing you ate?
Sausage from Hardee’s.

[9] Last thing you drank?
Coffee.

[10] Where did you sleep last night?
My bed.

[11] Are you happy right now?
Hell yes!

[12] What did you say last?
“So, what is that?”

[13] Where is your phone?
On my desk.

[14] What color are your eyes?
Chocolate brown.

[15] Who did you visit last?
Todd.

[16] When was the last time you had your heart broken?
Every day my heart is open it is both broken and healed.

[17] Who/what do you hate currently?
No one.

18] What are you listening to?
Conversations.

[19] If you could have one thing right now what would it be?
Two weeks at the beach with Beth, Tina, and The Numbers.

[20] What is your favorite scent?
Clean man.

[21] Who makes you happiest right now?
Me.

[22] What were you doing at midnight last night?
ZZZzzzzz.

[23] Are you left-handed?
Naw.

[24] Spell your name without vowels:
stc(and sometimes)y

[25] What's for dinner tonight?
Toast.

[26] What is the last alcoholic beverage you had?
Italian martini. It was so good I wanted eight more. I resisted.

[27] When Is Your Birthday?
August 2.

[28] Last time you went swimming in a pool?
When I went to see the folks. May 13th or so.

[29] Where was the last place you went shopping?
O’Mailia

[30] How do you feel about your hair right now?
It’s extrasexy, but CANNOT WAIT until Hottie the Hairbanger gets hold of it!

[31] Do you have any expensive jewelry?
Yes.

[32] AIM or MSN?
Neither.

[33] Where does most of your family live?
Indiana, Florida, California.

[34] Are you an only child or do you have siblings?
Brother. (And sisters I chose.)

[35] Would you consider yourself to be spoiled?
Uh huh.

[36] What was the first thing you thought when waking up?
Today? “Wow! THAT was a good night’s sleep.”

[37] Do you drink beer?
Indeed.

[38] Myspace or Facebook?
Facebook.

[39] Do you have T-Mobile?
No.

[40] What is/was your favorite subject in school?
English.

[41] What are you doing?
Having lunch at my desk and doing this.

[42] Do you have any talents?
Dur!

[43] Have you ever been IN a wedding?
Yep.

[44] Do you have any children?
Not that I’m aware of.

[45] Did you take a nap today?
Not yet!

[46] Ever met anyone famous before?
Yes.

[47] Do you want to be famous one day?
Nope. I want to be admired.

[48] Favorite Actor(s)?
Eh, don’t care.

[49] Could you handle being in the military?
If I had to, yes.

[50] Do you believe in Karma?
Yep.

[51] Last time you went to the gym or worked out?
Wednesday.

[52] How many pairs of shoes do you own?
Probably 25 or so.

[53] Last place you drove your car to?
Work.

[54] Ever been to Las Vegas?
Yes.

[55] Have you ever lived in a two story?
Yes.

[56] Have you ever been gambling?
Yes.

[57] When is the last time you updated your blog?
Yesterday.

[58] Have you been to New York City?
Nope, but I totally will.

[59] Ever been to Disneyland/world?
Both.

[60] Do you have a favorite cartoon character?
I like Bugs.

[61] Last thing you cooked?
Toast.

[62] How’s the weather?
Rainy and cool.

[63] Do you e-mail?
Yes. Honestly, how do you think most people got this idiot survey, anyway?

[64] Last time you were sick?
Girly cramps on Wed. EW!

[65] Do you think anyone will repost this?
Prolly.

Insights into Personal Effectiveness

Ever hear of this training class? It's one of those deals where people are categorized -- dependent upon how they answer a series of questions -- into four groups. All the categories are similar, even if the labels are different. There are DISC categories, Insights categories, and probably some other ones, too.

The groups are generally

• detail-oriented, analytical people (C or Blue)
• driver-director-accomplishment people (D or Red)
• steady-nurturing-coaching people, and (S or Green)
• influencer-inspirer (I or Yellow).

So, I personally describe these as, in order as above:

• The ones who love predictability and small squares. And making love to coaxial cable.
• My mom.
• The ones who love coaching and caring.
• The ones who are crazypants.

Um, one guess which color I am!

You might guess that there are natural points of resistance between those who operate themselves as say, a Director, and those who are Analytical. The Director wants it done now, and the Analytical wants it done right. With all the details. And the results from 17 tests. And footnotes.

Also, you just can't imagine how much fun it is trying to be a social, talkative, Yellow and work in an analytical job. (Let's just say that wasn't one of my better choices.) Though, I did get some great material out if it. For example, after a long meeting with The Detail People I once said, "He's blue to the third power."

Someone else said to me one day, "Pull the blue hat clear down over your ears, honey."

I don't know that I had an actual point for this one, but I do know that I'm super thankful for the new job. The one with a lot more yellow.

The Unity of God and the Children

As conveyed by the wise and wonderful Shannon Rose.

I am whole, perfect, strong, powerful, loving, harmonious and happy!
I am the power,
I am the intelligence,
I am the love,
I am the joy.
The earth turns on it's orbit for ME.
The oceans ebb and flow for ME.
The birds sing for ME.
The sun rises and it sets for ME.
The stars come out for ME.
Every beautiful thing I see, every wonderous thing I experience, is all there for ME.
None of it can exist without ME.
I am one with the Universe.
I am the heir to the kingdom.
I am the perfection of Life.

Good times.

Dande said this once about the maintaining of what might appear to be high maintenance women. It's still true, of course.

I like to think of it less as "demanding utter worship and absolute devotion," and more as "expecting reasonable appreciation for my complete and undeniable fabulosity."

I love being known

Tina described me as:

"...a woman whose mind moves not unlike a Wham-O SuperBall thrown into a small room by an extremely hyperactive 7-year-old boy named Darren who is all hopped up on Mountain Dew and Smarties."

I have to tell you -- especially when I'm very excited about something -- this description is spot on. Also, "Darren" in this context made me SNORT!

DOGGIE!

This SLAYS me.

English majors: rejoice!

I agree with Hansol. This is hilarious, and must be instituted as "required use" immediately.

Please enjoy. Be sure to refresh to experience all the brilliance that is Defective Yeti.

Small words. Big wisdom.

A Buddha was famous for being able to maintain his serenity. It was said that he could not be provoked. One man decided that this could not be true, and so set out to prove that he could provoke him. Day after day, he teased and taunted and tried to provoke the Buddha to become angry or, at least, annoyed. When the Buddha failed to respond, the man finally said to him, "How can it be that you have not become angry or annoyed with me?"

The Buddha replied, "If someone offered you a gift, and you chose to not accept that gift, to whom would the gift belong?"

"Well," said the man, "the gift would remain the property of the giver."

"Exactly." said the Buddha.

Memo from God

A sweet friend of mine sent me this today, and, though I've seen it before, I still love it. Even when things don't feel simple, we can still be of simple faith when we choose to. Trite? Probably. But a good reminder that God carries our school pictures around in his wallet to show off to all his friends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MEMO

To: YOU
Date: TODAY
From: GOD
Subject: YOURSELF
Re: LIFE

This is God. Today I will be handling all of your problems for you. I do not need your help. Have a nice day.

I love you.

On moving forward

A song for us girls, just when we need it. We've all needed it. (Emphasis mine.)

Written by Sam Tate, Annie Tate, and Rivers Rutherford
Recorded by Chely Wright

Shut up and drive
You don't know what you're talking about
He's not the one
You ought to know that by now
You've got one of those hearts
That keeps changing your mind
Your heart has a way of making you stay
So shut up and drive

Don't look in the mirror
He might have that look in his eyes
The one thats so strong
It strangles your will to survive
He's mastered the art
Of looking sincere
His eyes have a way of making you stay
Don't look in the mirror

I'm the voice you never listen to
And I had to break your heart to make you see
That he's the one who will be missing you
And you'll only miss the man
That you wanted him to be

Turn the radio on
To drown out the sound of goodbye
Blink back the tears
Show me you've still got your pride
Just get yourself lost
In a sad country song
Those guys that they play
Know just what to say
Turn the radio on.

I'm the voice you never listen to
And I had to break your heart to make you see
That he's the one who will be missing you
And you'll only miss the man
That you wanted him to be

Shut up and drive
Don't look in the mirror
Turn the radio on
Get out of here
Shut up and drive
Shut up and drive
Shut up and drive

Hi, I love you!

ABC Meme, or I'm Not Being Creative Right Now

— Aprons, Y/N? No, no.
— Baking? Sometimes, but not that often.
— Clothesline, Y/N? No!
— Donuts, Ever made them? When I was little, I think my Mom and Dad made them a few times.
— Everyday, One homemaking thing you do everyday? Um, ahhh. I suck as a housekeeper.
— Freezer, Do you have a separate deep freezer? No
— Garbage Disposal, Y/N? Yes
— Handbook, Y/N? I have a handbook I made for my job. Still isn’t enough information!
— Inside or outside? Both, but I'm inside more often.
— Junk Drawer, Where is it? Which one?
— Kitchen, Design and decorating? The chef doesn’t let me hang things on the walls.
— Love, What is your favorite part of homemaking? Decorating.
— Mop, Y/N? Yep. Hardwoods.
— Nylons, Wash by hand or in the washer? Washer, when I don’t rip the crap out of them on the first wearing.
— Oven, Do you use the window or open it to check? Both
— Pizza, What do you put on yours? Pepperoni, sometimes. Mostly black olives and musrooms.
— Quiet, What do you do during the day when you get a quiet moment? Nap! Duh!
— Recipe card box, Y/N? Yes
— Style of house? Downtown duplex built in 1910. Modern colors, antique aesthetic.
— Tablecloths and napkins, Y/N? Yes to both.
— Under the kitchen sink? Cleaning stuff and garbage bags. And the occasional misplaced item.
— Vacuum, How many times a week? Once. At most! Like I said…
— Wash, How many loads do you do a week? Too many.
— X's, Do you keep a list of things to do and cross them off? I just started doing this. Really.
— Yard, Who does what? The landlord does all of it except for the potted plants and stuff.
— ZZZ's, What is your last homemaking task for the day? Depends on the day.

Quote of The Day

By my darling Allie, regarding attending a church service for the goin' out after:

"I was going not with the spirit of God in my heart, but with the spirit of chicken in my belly."

My Day at The Office

I quote to you from Billy Madison:

"Mr. Madison, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul."

No title could accurately sum this up!

It’s no secret that I don’t enjoy the environment of Corporate America. I often say, “I can only act normal for 4-6 hours per day.” This, naturally, would preclude me from working on, say, a software development and support project (which requires the abilities to concentrate for long periods of time AND to behave in a businesslike manner)! How-ever. There are some definite plusses; not the least of which is the ability pay my rent, thus enabling me to live indoors.

One of my very favorite things about working in a large company is the fact that we have fabulously bright people from all over the world working on site. When I first came to the project where I’m working, there were no less than TEN national languages spoken in my team room. This is the type of thing that turns me on! (Language geek.)

Naturally, the variety of languages represented means that everyone’s first language is definitely not English.

In the course of the last few years, I’ve heard some outstanding renditions of English.

I’ve been asked more than one time to

“Please do the needful.”

And my girl Tina (colleague and sister) is regularly asked to

“Please make the spreadsheet updations.”

BY FAR the best rendition of English I’ve ever seen was forwarded to our project yesterday by an extremely bright, very talented, semi/non-English-speaker. The contracted employee responsible for this stunningly fabulous good-bye letter was returning to her home country to take on another project.

People, I am NOT making this up. Enjoy, and by all means, DO NOT DRINK ANYTHING WHILE READING THIS. YOU WILL CHOKE.


Hi All,

Time had been formicating at its own sweet stride till the day came, 31st January 2007, the last day for me in the project. It has been a difficult decision for me to leave but before several factors could have discombobulated me for the same, at present there is an olla podrida of predicates vindicating my adience to poise my personal allegiances along with my professional aspirations.

Time eluded on hotfoot surreptitiously and after a sapidity of almost two years, Jeez!! at last I have to bid adieu to the entire team of [company]. The past two years have been a period of copasetic experience which will never forget. I have truly enjoyed all the experiences and interactions that I have had with many of you. I leave here knowing that I have successfully contributed to [name of project] and other activities here at [company] as well. This sumptuous experience would lead to my consequent coalescing with the other projects in [contractor employer].

Once again thanks a lot to all for their support and cooperation and wishing everybody best in their professional and personal endeavors.

I will be just an email away for those who would like to keep in touch with me; the address is "xxxxxxxxxx@employer.com".

My New Title

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Her Grace Lady Stacey the Bewildered of Wimblish upon Frognaze Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Regarding a much maligned industry

Pharma accounted for 43 percent of all U.S. giving:

Donations made in the U.S. totaled $7.8 billion, and pharmaceutical companies contributed 43 percent of this total. No other industry even comes close to matching the donations from pharmaceutical companies, reported Forbes.com. Drug companies gave $5,585 on a per-employee basis. The world's second most generous industry, media and publishing, gave $1,549 per worker.

I'm not saying the industry is perfect by any means. I'm simply saying I was happy to see this, since I'm currently part of said industry.

I'm not personally giving 13% of my income to charity, so, maybe I should take a lesson.

For those of you who really *know* me...

... or, "My Boyfriend is Funny."

Todd and I took a drive to Cissna Park, Illinois to retrieve his belongings in storage. On the way back, we were talking about all kinds of cheerful things. For example, I was telling Todd that if I should die young (God forbid!) that I wish to be cremated and sprinkled -- liberally -- in Portugal or Curaçao or somewhere fabulous. He says, "I'm pretty sure I'll die before you will."

I say, "Well, I'm just saying, if I die in a freak bow-hunting accident..." [I'm already laughing]

Todd says, "A freak napping accident is far more likely."

I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

Famous Drag Queens

1. Misty Fjords
2. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to introduce, all the way from Korea... Kim Chee!
3. Crusty Duvet
4. Beverly Napkins (Bev Naps!)
5. Nuclia Waste

Nice one, John.

I hate to see you cry
Lying there in that position
There's things you need to hear
So turn off your tears
And listen

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No it won't all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good

You know, it's nothing new
Bad news never had good timing
But, then your circle of friends
Will defend the silver lining

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No it won't all go the way it should
But I know the heart of life is good

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
Fear is a friend who's misunderstood
But I know the heart of life is good
I know it's good

Another Good Quote

"Service is the rent we pay for being. It is the very purpose of life, and not something you do in your spare time."

--Marian Wright Edelman

Tony Campolo Brilliance

"Evangelicalism getting wedded to the any political party is like ice cream mixing with horse manure. It's not going to hurt the horse manure (i.e. the republican party, and I would say the Democrat Party is also horse manure so don't get the wrong idea), but it sure will mess up the ice cream."

Not so teensy anymore, but still the cutest puppy EVER!

PUCKINGTON HUFWELL

Giving and Getting

We all have things that say to us, “I love you”. For most of my life, those things were stuff that my mother does on a regular basis, like, keep clean towels in the linen closet, fix dinner, and know where everyone is. When we go visit someone, it says “I love you” if they’ve made up the guest room (or guest couch) with clean sheets, laid out fresh towels, and planned ahead for at least the first dinner you’ll have with them.

When I was a kid and we went to visit mom’s parents’ for Christmas, there were always card games going, people dropping by, and food being prepared in abundance. Tablecloths were pressed, trees were decorated, and presents were wrapped. People rushed out the front door to hug you and say how glad they were that you’d turned up to visit. “Come in, sit down, what do you want to drink? Let me help you with your suitcase.”

Those things still say “I love you” to me, but I’ve learned to understand other languages, too.

When we went to my dad’s parents’ for Christmas, there were games of solitaire going. My grandmother didn’t look up super often from her crossword puzzles to visit. When you arrived after a harrowing trip through a sandstorm, the attitude was mostly, “Hi. You drove through a sandstorm, did you?” I don’t ever remember people coming around to visit or many company-esque dinners being prepared. (I’m illustrating here. Hang with me, they were also wonderful.)

If all your life people had indicated their love for you by preparing in advance and acting real enthusiastic and excited that you’d come to see them, you can see where not preparing in advance and acting neutral about your presence might feel like, “Huh, I don’t really love you that much.”

For my dad’s folks, they most certainly were not saying, “Huh, don’t really love you”. They were saying, “This is how we do things here.” They showed love in other ways, like building sterno-powered paddle-boats for the swimming pool, letting their excitable granddaughter throw a luau in the back yard, and writing letters when we were not nearby.

This is where it gets tricky.

If your first language is, say, English, and the native language of the person you love is, say, French, and he or she says to you, “Je t’aime” They actually ARE saying “I LOVE YOU.” They just aren’t saying it in your native language. So, this requires some emotional intelligence. Do you accept “je t’aime”? Or do you insist on “I love you”? Further, do you accept that the one who was home all day and did not prepare dinner while you were at work does not mean, “I don’t love you”? Do you accept other languages?

My solution, which I’ve only come to through time and destroyed marriage, is that (for me) both are acceptable, and needed. I have learned to recognize “I love you” in forms that are not my native language. Sure, the kitchen might not be clean (um, I didn’t clean it, either…), but there is conversation, and at least one intricate story to be told/listened to. There are thoughtful gifts, questions about my day, and speculations about a shared future. These are all “I love you”.

When I need to hear it in my native language, I ask for it. For this to work for me, I have to believe that asking for something I need doesn’t devalue it. Over-romanticizing things and pretending like my friends should KNOW my native language doesn’t result in receiving what I need. I believe these things wholeheartedly.

When I ask in plain language for something specific and easily provide-able, and then don’t get it, *that* can be an indication of anti-love. If I don’t ask and don’t get? That’s an indication that I didn’t ask.

For the New Year

One of my favorite quotes, from Marianne Williamson:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, talented, fabulous?”
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest
the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.