What A Day

My gut feeling was that I should have gone right back to bed, as soon as I got out of it. And...I was right.

I got up with a raging headache from the night before, managed to somehow fall off the toilet, all the while my Westie, Max is staring at me like "lady, I've got to PEE NOW, so can you move it along?". I go out of my room, Max in tow, stumble up the steps to the kitchen, let Max out and put some dry oatmeal in a bag to fix at work. I manage to spill half of said oatmeal in the trash and seriously contemplated taking it out and using it. HEY, I just put a clean bag in there.

I let Max in.

I go down to the family room, and I hear my roommate telling a story about how she thought the car was in park, but it wasn't and she started to get out, and the car rolled and she was "hysterical" (her word not mine), slammed on the brakes and the car door closed on her leg. Yeah, ouch I thought.

I went into my room to shower, feed Max and get ready for work. I manage to get face soap in my eye, but I also brushed my teeth in the shower to save time. How clever am I? Heh.

Getting dressed goes off without any hitches.

I go to take Max out one more time before I go to work. I round the corner of the garage and that's when. I. saw. it. The passenger rear view mirror of my Mustang was dangling on the side of the car.

My face went "OH", my brain said "huh", my mouth said "WHAT THE FUCK!?!" In that order people and you better believe I RAN to that car.

My first thought, vandalism, because my roommate had her wallet stolen from her truck, she also didn't lock her truck, and I don't live in a bad area. My second thought, my roommate's son tried to shove the trash can through the 2 cars and took my mirror off.

I tried to put it back on, no luck, I tried 5 times.

Then I went inside and said to my roommate, "my side view mirror on the passenger side is hanging off my car, you don't think (insert son's name here), took it off with the trash can do you"?. All the color drained from my roommates face. And she realized she had hit it with her car. They were going to duct tape it or bungee it for today and I said, "OH NO, I am not driving around with duct tape on my car, besides it will remove the paint."

She took my car to get it fixed, I took her car to go to work.

Shit hit the fan at work. When I ask someone for follow up info and they tell me what I already know, followed by "read the notes" (which I've already read), HELL TO THE NO.

Then I get a phone call. "The dealership didn't have the part, (which cost 170 bucks by the way, JUST the part, not the labor), so we have to bring it back tomorrow, they open at 7 AM." LOVELY, but what can I do. So tomorrow, I'll be in the office extra early, but I get to leave early to pick up the car. My roommate will be giving me a ride to work and picking me up to go get the car.

Right now, I want a hot bath, a glass of red wine and the lap of my lover to lay my head in. That's all I want.

I'll talk about 6th Grade tomorrow.

5th Grade

Okay, so now that it's been DEMANDED of me (Hi, Bri) to post something new, we'll just move right along to the 5th Grade. But first, I'm getting a Christmas tree this weekend and I watch Charlie Brown's Christmas last night. If you don't watch this...well...you're missing out. Anyway, 5th Grade.

In the 5th Grade, I had Mr. Ahern. He was nicer than Mr. Sutton, that's for damn sure, but he was younger too. I could tell because he didn't have any wrinkles. Mr. Ahern (sometimes we called him Mr. Ahernia - yeah we thought we were funny, like he hadn't heard that a million times before), was tall and had dark brown hair and blue eyes, but his lips were really thin. And, he always wore a belt. We figured out that he and the art teacher, Ms. McDonough were boyfriend and girlfriend and someone got him an Old Spice gift set for Christmas one year. Yeah, that was ME, got a problem?, lol. I sort of had a crush on Mr. Ahern.

Mr. Ahern didn't put up with ANY crap, none, from no one. I think he had a military background too, but I can't remember.

There was this boy in my class named Matt B., who, ready for this, was 16 years old and in the 5th Grade. So of course he was physically bigger than the rest of us and that was kinda cool if he was your friend. I remember one time we were out on the playground and some kid spit on him, so Matt hocked a lugi on him, it was GROSS and HUGE and smelled like coffee. This might be why I don't like coffee. I mean hell, he was the only one old enough to drink it and he smoked too. Bad Boys, Bad Boys, whachu gonna do...anyway, he liked art, alot and was really good at it. So, why was he in the 5th Grade? LAZY. And he got into alot of trouble, because Art wasn't the only thing you had to do. One time, Mr. Ahern made him stand in front of the classroom and hold an Encyclopedia, not a dictionary, but an ENCYCLOPEDIA in each of his hands while he stretched his arms out to his sides, so he looked like this "T", and he had to stand there for 15 minutes. That's a LONG damn time with 2 Encyclopedias as weights. Because Art wasn't the only thing you had to do After some parent complaints, the school tested Matt and moved him to the 11th Grade, where he should have been anyway.

Mr. Ahern also liked to make the boys assume the push up position and hold it until he said time was up. Needless to say, the girls didn't get into much trouble.

This was also the year that I separated my shoulder playing King of the Hill on the snowbank. Did I mention I am a GIRL and the only GIRL to play King of the Hill? No?, well I was. But I did alot of boy things and this was also the year that I tried smoking for the first time, on the football field. It was gross but I did it anyway. I got caught, I got my ass beat by my father (this would not be the first time) and I don't smoke. Thank God for that, serious.

In Mr. Ahern's class we had to give a Demonstrational Speech or an Informative Speech. Mike M. gave an informative one, and stood behind Mr. Ahern's desk, where he proceeded to tear up Mr. Ahern's green blotter, with his hands, because he was so nervous and I could understand why. We all laughed in good fun about that one, even Mr. Ahern.

I gave a Demonstrational Speech on How to Make Homemade Gingerbread. I got all the ingredients ready at home, my grandmother helped me with this, to make sure I had everything. I made copies of the recipe to give to everyone and on the day of the speech (which only had to be 5 minutes long), I carried my cardboard box of ingredients and mixer into the classroom and proceeded to make Gingerbread, which I then took to the Home Ec room in the high school building to bake. I picked it up at a later time and gave everyone a piece, even, Ms. McDonough.

That speech lasted 13 minutes. I got an "A". SO STUFF THAT RACHEL RAY - HA - You got 30 minute meals, I got 30 minute desserts that will feed 32 people. See, I totally missed my true calling.

I really liked the 5th Grade, for many reasons but mostly because that was my first experience with public speaking. It was hard, but I was able to choose something I was good at, and I did a good job with it and I was rewarded with an "A" - which was the only "A" given. (By the way, I made that Gingerbread from memory.) And everyone enjoyed it.

But...because I was not a popular kid, yes, I was the fat kid, with acne, who had "strict" parents, this would not be the last time that I tried to win friends by giving them something, but more on that later.

4th Grade

In the 4th Grade, I was, according to the other kids, "unlucky" enough to have Mrs. Rivette. Mrs. Rivette was the one teacher nobody wanted because she was mean. Or...supposedly she was mean. She was tall, but isn't everyone taller than you in the 4th Grade, when you're 8-9 years old?

I remember Mrs. Rivette's hair being a combination of light and dark grey (not salt and pepper), and it was always cut in a shape that looked like this |_|, only upside down, sort of like Lego people hair. She wore glasses on a chain around her neck and she had a slight mustache. That didn't gross me out, I thought it was weird, I mean my grandmother and mother didn't have one, but I was also taught that everyone is different and you NEVER EVER make fun of your elders, especially the elderly. Mrs. Rivette never, ever wore pants, she always wore a jumper. She had so many, so many different colors, so many differnt fabrics. And, in the summer time at the church bazaar, she was the "pocket lady". She wore a big smock with a bunch of differnt pockets sewn on it and for a dollar, you could reach into the pocket and pull out a prize. This was, of course, long before you heard of teachers touching children or having inappropriate relationships with them. When there was actually trust between a teacher and a child.

Mrs. Rivette loved the band, "The Motels" and always sang their songs. I knew of this band because I had an older cousin, but other than that, I had no idea why she liked this band.

4th Grade was the place where I learned one of the most important things in my life. No, lol, it wasn't about sports, I always kicked butt in Field Day, especially the ball throw. What I learned in the 4th Grade was manners. Specifically, to say "excuse me" whenever you walk in front of someone. And we practiced this in Mrs. Rivette's class daily.

When we lined up to go outside, to go to lunch, to go the auditorium and to go home, you had to say "excuse me" when you passed in front of Mrs. Rivette, or any adult or classmate, because it was rude not too. If you didn't say "excuse me", you had to go to the end of the line and try again. And Mrs. Rivette would make you do this over and over until you got it right.

And now, at 34 years old, to this day, I say "excuse me" whenever I walk in front of anyone and it's hard for me to not say that for others as well.

But then again, they didn't have Mrs. Rivette for the 4th Grade.

Behind

I know, I know, I'm behind with the posting. I'm also behind with the reading as well. Quick update.

My Thanksgivng went well. My family had to celebrate the day after Thanksgiving because my mom's a nurse and well...she had to work Thanksgiving Day, it's not like they close the hospitals. But, it's all good because she has Christmas off. That's how it works, you work one holiday, you get the other off and then next year she'll be on for Thanksgiving and off for Christmas. We've grown up like this, so it's not a big deal to us.

My mom and I hit the stores on the morning of Black Friday and OH MY HELL!, she almost got mowed down by a lady in one of those motorized carts. My mom came around the corner, stopped, the lady looked at her, Clint Eastwood came around the corner, the woman glared at my mom, my mom just moved to the left and I'd say the lady went on her merry way but there wasn't anything merry about her. Old grouch!

Then we went to Kohl's, got what we needed and stood in line for no less than 45 minutes to check out. Not too bad, I mean I did provide comic relief. Some lady walked by and said "what kind of man gives you 2 credit cards and tells you to have fun?" I said, outloud, "a crazy one". Hey the lady next to me laughed.

Then it was off to IHOP for breakfast - pumpkin pancakes YUMMY. I LOVE me some PANCAKES, and then home to make Thanksgiving dinner.

My father managed to burn some leaves and not catch the property on fire and also heard an animal in the woods, took the flashlight and went looking for it. Don't ask. I love my dad, but he cracks me up.

And of course my nephew is just precious. We went to Outback for dinner he ate some Bloomin' Onion, bread, salad, steak and backed potato. He's 13 MONTHS OLD. But my hell he was having a grand ol' time. And he eats everything with a fork, even his bread.

Anyway, that was just a quick re-cap of my Thanksgiving, now...on the 4th Grade. Oh, before I forget, check this ridiculousness out, Subdivison Bans Wreath with Peace Sign.

3rd Grade

Important Message: I won't be posting again until the 21st. I'm going to Houston, BABY. Now on to the 3rd Grade.

In the 3rd Grade I was in Mr. Sutton's class. The year started out ok, the classroom was the same size as Mrs. Palmatier's, but Mr. Sutton had these 2 big, comfortable chairs in the front of the classroom where the reading circle was. During "reading circle" time, it was a literal race to get to those chairs, because if you didn't you had to sit on the floor. I later realized that it wasn't a big deal to sit on the floor, but oh how I was envious of those kids that made it to the chairs before me.

We made individual Plaster of Paris busts of George Washington and Abe Lincoln, that were painted silver and we could take home to keep. Mine are long gone, but you can trust and believe that the clothespin reindeer is STILL on the Christmas Tree every year.

3rd Grade was also a difficult year for me and the year that I learned that not everyone is nice. And yeah, I'm just going to call people out on this one. Do I care? Not one iota because it's true, whether they remember it or not.

We were incubating chicks in this class room and the incubator looked like a large styrofoam cooler with a clear plastic lid on the top. It was warm inside the incuabtor and humid, you could see the mist on the lid, and there were about 6 or 7 fertilized eggs in there, that would hatch and we'd have chicks. Pretty Cool, don't you think? Well, it is to a 3rd Grader.

We were allowed to look into the incubator, but of course weren't allowed to touch it or lift the lid because this would be dangerous for the chicks.

The incubator was set up near the reading circle area, see where I'm going with this?

As luck would have it, my cousin, "W", who was in high school, was a reading volunteet and during her study hall time, she would come down and she'd lead the reading circle. So, one day she came down, got settled, got the book for the reading circle and told us to come on up for reading time. So of course, there was a mad dash for the reading circle. I finally got to a big chair first (by the way, 2 people could sit in one chair, they were that large), and before I could sit down, Lisa Soifer (the town's dentist's kid), shoved me out of the way, I bumped into the incubator hard enough to jostle the eggs, but not break them. They did roll a little though.

My eyes got huge and I looked at my cousin, while Lisa sat there all smug. Before I could even say "sorry" (it wasn't my fault to begin with), Mr. Sutton grabbed my arm and yanked me too him, put his face down close to mine and with his close set eyes and yellowing teeth (he was old then), said in a pinched voice, "you.will.not.be.participating.in.reading.circle.today." I said, "I'm sorry, it wasn't my fault, Lisa pushed me." He didn't want to hear that and I had to sit out in the hallway for reading time. But before I went to the hall, my cousin said "Mr. Sutton, "JR" was pushed into the incubator, I saw it happen." To which Mr. Sutton replied "and just WHO are you?" My cousin said "I'm her cousin.", and all the color drained from Mr. Sutton's face. You see, it was perfectly ok to grab a kid during that time, but that didn't mean it would go over well at home.

This wasn't to be my last altercation wuth Mr. Sutton.

At the end of the year, we were cleaning out and off our desks and Mr. Sutton had passed around a bottle of diluted window cleaner for us to use. Now, we all knew that you sprayed it on your desk or a papertowel and NEVER in someone's eyes. I mean were all 8 and 9 after all.

As I finished my desk, I held the cleaner up and said, "does anyone need to use this?" Mind you, the cleaner was not being pointed at anyone, my hand wasn't even on the trigger. Like a flash, Mr. Sutton came out of nowhere, grabbed the cleaner from me, pointed it at me and sprayed me in the face. I swear to all that is holy, may I be struck down if I am lying.

I started to cry as he said, "there, how do you like it, you don't spray people with this." I said between tears and sobs of embarrassment as I wiped my eyes, "I didn't Mr. Sutton, I was just tryin' to see if anyone else wanted to use it." School was dismissed for the summer and I had Little League practice. Yes, Little League.

My grandmother took me, asked me how my day was and I started crying and told her what had happened. I remember her saying "that no good louse", and she told my mom. My mom took me to the hospital, remember, she worked there, so she had the hook up, and the doctor recommended an Optometrist just to be on the safe side.

My mom stopped by the school to see Mr. Sutton. Now, she's not a large woman, but she's tough and when she found out what the situation was, she asked Mr. Sutton if he'd like her to spray window cleaner in his face and asked him what it was like to be a bully.

We went to the Optometrist. I wear glasses, partly because of that, partly because of the years. But hell I look DAMN good in them.

Looking back, I realized that Mr. Sutton should have retired before he did, but I hated that man, for years and wished him nothing but harm. He too has died and even though he wasn't my favorite, years later, I felt sadness and great sympathy for that man.

2nd Grade

Wooo to the hooo, 2nd Grade here I come. And I get...Mrs. Palmatier. Let me just say this, only the COOL kids got Mrs. Palmatier, much like Mrs. Webber, you WANTED Mrs. Palmatier. And I got moved to the BIG SCHOOL, on the hill. Yeah, my town had alot of hills, it was in the middle of the mountains, deal with it, I did. The big school housed K-12 but it was split up. The building was shaped like the letter "C" and had been tipped on it's back, with its arms sticking straight out, like this |_|. On the left hand side was K-6, then the back of the "C" had admin offices and some classrooms that began 7-12, the right hand side of the "C" was all the 7-12 classrooms.

I remember Mrs. Palmatier to be the "motherly" looking type. Black, almost bee-hive type hair do with loose curls, glasses that had a chain attached to them, red lipstick, more like a grandmother. Warm, inviting, fun, but very serious when necessary.

We each had our own little desk and a plastic chair, all the chairs were blue, you didn't get a choise, you got a blue chair, which was fine by me, I mean blue being my favorite color and all.

We had a bigger playground and sometimes got to go down to the football field to play, which was cool.

There was also a bathroom in the classroom, each classroom had that setup, you'd go in, lock the door, do your business, wash hands, come out. However, you could pick the lock with a pair of pointed scissors in no time. Yes I had that happen to me, yes I did that to someone else.

In this class we were introduced to the SRA reading series and everytime you finished a level satisfactorily, and this was something you could do at your leisure, in addition to regular school work, you got a HOTBALL candy. Lord I LOVE me some ATOMIC FIREBALL HOTBALLS. Yeah, I said HOTBALLS. I finished that entire set, no small feat, in a school year. I could read like a Mo'Fo' as well as spell like one too. FEAR ME. Anyway....

I thought Mrs. Palmatier was so cool, because she'd been to China and she'd had octopus and frogs legs and was the first to say to us that "frogs legs do taste like chicken and she didn't know she was eating octopus, but it was ok". This to the squeals of GROSS...hey we were 7/8 year old. China was literally that foreign and eating something you caught down near the ice pond or the hospital creek, GROSS.

Because of her China trip, we got to try eating mandarin oranges with chopsticks and I remember that it was hard. Now I can use chopsticks like a pro and eat almost anything with them.

I think Mrs. Palmatier has passed away by now, in fact, now that I think about it, I know she has, as my father mentioned to me. And I immediately missed her, but smiled at the memories.

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Program...

So that I can talk about a conversation I had with my mother.

I called my mom to try and get ideas for Xmas gifts for them, my nephew, sister, etc., of course from my mom I get the standard "don't worry about me and your father". Yeah, ok, wrong answer. So then I asked her, "What do you think I can get for Caden"? (my nephew), she said "well he has so much, so why not a savings bond or something like that." Which is fine, I think, but he's ONE, so he has to have something to open, if anything so I can see him open it. This will be in addition to a savings bond or something like that.

So then I said to my mom, "don't tell Leslie (my sister), that at this point, Caden is the sole beneficiary of my 401K, unless I start my own family and even then, Caden will still get some of that money". Then I said, "just so you and Dad know, I have a life insurance policy that will more than cover funeral costs, any unpaid bills, etc., with plenty left over". Please, don't anyone start planning my demise, you won't get a DIME of the insurance money and you'll be in jail with your new boyfriend, BUBBA.

Then my mom says to me "well, how do you want to be buried, in the event that you go before me?" And I said, "I want to be cremated, graveside viewing, no funeral home and you can scatter my ashes". She said, "or maybe you can be buried next to your grandparents (they're in 2 different cemetaries), because I'm being creamated and buried next to my father and your father wants to be cremated too." So, I thought that was a good idea too.

I said, "well, this conversation went from holiday to morbid pretty fast, but I guess it's necessary". What my mom said next, really got to me. She said, "J, I'm not worried about your brother because he has "A" (his girlfriend of 10 years, no, they are not married, don't ask.), but you have no one right now and I worry about that, so I'm glad you told me your plans and the arrangements you made to take care of it." I also know I need to get a living will and a regular will too, just in case.

No, I am not old (34), no I am not sick, but I guess this was a conversation that had to be had, better sooner than never.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled program.

1st Grade

YAY, 1st Grade and guess who I got as a teacher? That's right, Mrs. Webber. As I stated in the Kindergarten post, Mrs. Webber was as sought after as the Golden Ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I GOT HER. Oh, happy day, folks, oh happy day.

1st Grade was in the same building as Kindergarten, but now I was upstairs, because well..I was big kid now and I remember those stairs being very big, so big that it felt like you had to swing your leg out, up and down just to go up one step, and...you did, when you were a 1st grader. So, maybe I wasn't so big. But I wasn't a Kindergartener anymore either, so THERE :P.

We still had the same playground, same swings that I busted my nose on, stupid swings. But you know I did that in the winter, so they just shoved some snow in my face as an ice pack. See, there are advantages to growing up in the North.

We learned math and spelling and reading and all that stuff. We still got to take naps. We made frogs out of paper plates and red and green chains, clothespin reindeer and pipe cleaner candy canes for Christmas. Yes, my mother still has that stuff and yes she still puts it on the tree 33 years later.

I got to walk to school by myself, which as was cool. Remember it was 1978/79 when I was in the 1st Grade and I lived in a small town so we were shielded from the outside world of danger in the form of getting kidnapped. In fact, no one I know got kidnapped, nothing. But of course our parents would put the FEAR OF GOD into you (which was almost as bad as the FEAR OF DAD), if you went someplace without tellin' because well, "what if someone took you right away from me?"

So, we walked to school, down a hill (seriously and back up it, in the winter on the way home), but the sidewalk had a wall next to it and we all walked on the wall. You climbed up by the Stop sign and walked the wall to the end, where you jumped down. This of course was "dangerous", because you could "fall off the wall and cut your head open." By the way, you were always "cutting your head open" and never anything else. No broken bones, no cut legs, but your head, oh yeah, EVERY TIME, according to mom. I walked that wall every day, except in the winter, because the snow was too high and you couldn't, plus it was slippery. Did you want me to CUT MY HEAD OPEN, afterall? And everytime I walked on the wall and got caught, I got in trouble, but did that deter me? Um, no. And no, I didn't cut my head open, nor did I fall. I got mad wall walking skillz, y'all.

My best friend was Heath Robinson. I wore Garanimals clothing - give it up if you know what I mean. You know Garanimals, the original Izod, or the OI. Match the Rhino on the shirt with the Rhino on the pants, and BAM (which I said WAY before Emeril), instant outfit, fit for a 1st grader. Sesame Street had a line of clothing, I had a big bird hat that was yellow and red and the "pom-pom" on top was Big Bird.

We lived in an apartment on Oak street and my mom worked at the hospital down the street. My grandmother was my babysitter and came up every day to get us off to school and was there every day when we got home. Sometimes we'd meet my mom at the hospital, just to "see" her and she'd buy us Swedish Fish, only the red kind, from the hospital store and a soda, that always tasted funny. I learned later it tasted funny because the syrup wasn't mixed quite right, but it was still good. Sometimes, mom brough the FISH home as a surprise.

My father was an Ironworker (those skyscrapers and all tall buildings you see, thank my father and people like them, he and his Union built those) and always left very early in the morning, but was always home at night.

My brother was 2 at the time, that's all I remember about him for now.

So that was 1st grade and that part of my life as I remember it.

Enjoy.

Kindergarten

I grew up in a small town. I'm talking maybe 3500 people in the town and village, combined. Yes, village, isn't that quaint? Anyway, my town was in the middle of the Adirondack Mountains and the Hudson River ran through it. Makes sense, since the biggest industry and largest employer we had was the International Paper Co.

The Kindergarten I went to was in a small building that had 4, yes 4 classrooms. The downstairs classrooms were for Kindergarten, the upstairs classrooms were for 1st grade. We had a fenced in playground with swings (that I busted my nose on, in the winter), monkey bars, slides, etc.

My teacher was Mrs. Ziegler and for the most part, I liked her, except the time she made me sit UNDER, yes under her desk. I got in trouble for talking which was no surprise, I mean someone asks you something, you answer right?, yeah, well two of us were talking, but I got caught. So under the desk I went. Maybe she had "just had it" with me that day. I can say, my mom was not pleased, in fact, she was PISSED. She went to the school and asked Mrs. Ziegler how she would like it if my mom put her UNDER the desk to sit there.

I can understand getting in trouble, but the under the desk thing, yeah, a bit too much.

In Kindergarten we had nap time on mats, a play area indoors, a cool coat room and we had SPEEDY. Speedy was the Janitor for the WHOLE school, and he was the husband of Mrs. Webber, a first grade teacher. By the way, everyone wanted to have Mrs. Webber for first grade, EVERYONE. But that's another story. Back to Speedy.

Speedy wasn't his real name, of course. I never knew his real name, other than Mr. Webber, but we were all allowed to call him Speedy. And when Speedy came by, the whole classroom, said, in unison, "SPEEDY!!!!" and he'd wave and go about his work. Speedy always seemed so old to me, but then again I was 6 years old, everyone seemed old. I mean I'm 34 now and that, at one time was OLD. Can you imagine, I would think, what it will be like when I'm 30, let alone as old as Speedy.

Speedy was a little like the Tim Conway character on Carol Burnett and he was soooo nice. Always smiling and always pushing his broom.

I remember when Speedy died. Mrs. Ziegler told us and the teacher across the hall, Mrs. Johnson, told her class. Everyone was sad and of course Mrs. Webber, Speedy's wife was out that day too and that was my first memorable experience with death. I just remember being very sad, that's all and went back to school the following day and back to routine. I suppose it was necessary that the teachers kept us on routine for many reasons, and later when I became a teacher, I realized why routine in this vein is so important.

So, yep, that was Kindergarten. I liked Mrs. Ziegler but I LOVED SPEEDY.

Chronicled

I've decided that I'm going to tell you all a little bit more about my life by way of school. Elementary through high school.

I'll post one grade per day, unless of course I'm on vacation, which is in oh 5 DAYS, hi Bri!

Check back later tonight for Kindergarten.

How the Candycorntini Came to Be

At the behest of Deb


Once upon a time, in a land, far, far away, but not as far as the land of far, far, far away, there lived a girl named JR.

Now JR, who has killer hair, liked to think she embodied all things rightous and of course she did, when it came to being creative with things of the alcohol variety.

But alas, this girl who kicks ass (not to be confused with the fair maiden, wrong story), was down in the dumps on Halloween, because she really tries to come up with a cool costume, and in her mind, the costume is cool, but...it never pans out.

So, on Halloween of 2006, JR said, "screw this noise, I'm skipping the costume and I'm drinking my Halloween sorrows away." As she sat in the swanky (HA-read DIVE) Martini Bar, pining away for the hope that others would just recognize the genius that are her Halloween costumes and eating candy corn, she had an epiphany of epic proportions and popped some smooshed candy corn into the martini class.

She took a sip and it was good. She smiled and it was better. She drank more, she stood up on the bar and announced, in her best Karen Walker voice, "YA know I think if they invented Candycorntini's, I'd get much more enthused about Halloween."

The applause was deafening.

The Candycorntini - shaken, never stirred.

Tagged by SS

1. Things that scare me: Growing old alone, drowning, buring to death.

2. People who make me laugh: Bri, Rachel, all of the bloggers I read daily.

3.Things I hate the most: That I feel like I bust my ass at work and others screw off and make more money than I do.

4. Things I don't understand: People who harm children and animals.

5.Things I'm doing right now: Blogging, duh. Wondering if I should clean tonight or just wait until the weekend, waiting to talk to Bri.

6.Things I want to do before I die: Travel the world, meet "the one", raise a family.

7.Things I can do: I'm witty like a MO'FO, cook well, fix just about anything.

8. Ways to describe my personality: witty, charming, romantic, charasmatic, kind and yes sarcastic.

9. Things I can't do: Run a marathon, say the word cinammon without really thinking about it.

10.Things I think you should listen to: the perfection of silence

11. Things you should never listen to: Someone who trys to wreck your self-esteem.

12.Things I'd like to learn: Why people do what they do, Arabic.

13.Favorite Foods: I have to pick one? WINGS AND BEER.

14.Beverages I drink regularly: Unsweet tea, water, hot chocolate when the weather is cold.

14a. Beverages I'm trying not to drink regularly: I stopped drinking soda.

15. Shows I watched as a kid: JEM, Great Space Coaster, 321 Contact, you know it's been a LONG time, I can't remember.

16. Person I am tagging: Betty

You Shore Do Tawk Funny - Or, I'm bored at work

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "Are you from Chicago?" Chances are you call carbonated drinks "pop."
The Northeast
The South
The Midland
Philadelphia
North Central
The West
Boston
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

F.Y.I.

According to a certain, Smarty McSmartypants, aka Hottie McHottiepants (trust on that one, will you, gosh) the following is true.

"Fungi is more closely related to people than other plants and has more than 36,000 sexes." - and you thought you had to make choices. Poor fungi.

These are a few of my favorite things...

Just like the Sound of Music (see I am really a gay man), these are a few of my favorite things: Feel free to add your favorite things in the comments.

-warm bath sheets (like bath towels, only BIGGER)
-soft sheets
-lavendar
-India Gardenia
-peppermint hot chocolate
-black licorice
-freshly fallen snow
-silence in winter, when everything is still
-Autumn
-the way babies smell
-babies
-red wine
-vanilla
-going cycling
-yardwork (weird I know)
-capers
-hot wings
-non-American (read Bud, etc) beers
-soft skin
-softer lips
-MAX
-homemade blackberry pie with big, fat, blackberries
-mac and cheese, homemade
-green bean casserole
-soft clothing

And....a girl named Bri - I be careful you, really.

Just a Quickie

Because I have a lot to do today. But, I wanted to make note that a guy I went to high school with, Kevin Richards was nominated for and won a CMA Award (Country Music Award) for Medium Market Broadcast
Personality of the Year.

Small town boy, and I think this just ROCKS!

Weekend Warrior

The only thing I really wanted to do this weekend was paint my bathroom. I mean I stripped the layers of wallpaper off the walls, oh a year ago and just could decide on a color, but I couldn't look at wall that looked like someone blew chunks all over it either. So, it's been, what I like to call "industrial" for a year.

I get my primer on Friday.

On Saturday, just as I get out of the shower, I hear "JR, the sink's leaking all over the place." I run into the kitchen, towel wrapped around me and one on my head, to see the kitchen floor flooded with water. NICE. People, I had an appointment to get my hair did. So I shut the water off, asked my roommated to get all the stuff out from under the sink, threw some clothes on, got my hair did (it looks FIERCE), came home (I rent, so my roommates own house), and went to work fixing the sink. FOUR HOURS LATER, 5 TRIPS TO HOME DEPOT (because certainly "lil'lady" what you could know about plumbing - I knew he sold me the wrong piece of pipe), ONE TRIP to the Ace Hardware, being soaked with water, "forgetting" I had my head under the sink and trying to stand up, hitting my head so hard, I throw-up under the sink, but didn't pass out, cutting my head, not deeply, thank goodness, the sink is no longer leaking.

I clean the kitchen and make chili - sans beans, just to see what it tastes like. but I ROCK in the kitchen, so of course, my chili rocks.

Bathroom does not get painted.

Sunday....said sink is now stopped up on the left hand side and the garbage disposal is backing up into it. It's a double sink. Yeah, I'd back up too if someone emptied half a can of GREASE down my gaping maw.

I fix that. Get keys made of ALL doors. Then have to put a new handle and lock on the garage door.

2 HOURS of literally hammering the old lock out. First one knob, then the other - it's an old house, old doors, old locks. 3 TRIPS TO HOME DEPOT, my fault this time, I kept forgetting things, 30 minutes to put the new lock and handles in.

Bathroom never got painted.

I have a small cut on my head, a cut on my thumb, 2 small cuts on my middle and ring finger, but DAMMIT we have a working sink, working door locks and enough keys for everyone. I even managed to get laundry done, clean my bathroom and have 2 glasses of wine before talking to the most beautiful girl in the world and then falling asleep.

Not too bad for a "Lil' Lady" is it?

Monday Morning at My Office

A Monday morning conversation between me and a co-worker. I took my co-worker's name out, you for privacy and all that jazz.

[9:52 AM]tandfporkstore.com
[9:52 AM]you get the BEST SITES EVER
[9:55 AM] Yeah - MERRY CHRISTMAS - have some pork.
[9:55 AM]LOL
[9:56 AM]That color screams "MERRY CHRISTMAS" to me and not "Hi! Buy some Italian foods!"
[9:56 AM]better than Happy Chanakkuh - I'm sure I spelled that wrong.
[9:56 AM]lol
[9:56 AM]K said the same thing. Even the things in the header kind of look like snow flakes.
[9:56 AM]at least it doesn't scream Ramadan, yeah that would be bad for business
[9:57 AM]I thought you said "At least it doesn't scream Ramada Inn"
[9:57 AM]LOL
[9:57 AM]no, I said Mariott, GOSH, SCOTT
[9:57 AM]I think I need to get my eyes checked.
[9:57 AM]Napolean says HI
[9:57 AM]?
[9:58 AM]Napolean who?
[9:58 AM]Dynamite
[9:58 AM]GOSH
[9:58 AM]LOL
[9:59 AM]he'll ring you a delicious badd
[9:59 AM]bass
[9:59 AM]bring too
[9:59 AM]"Tina, come and get some ham!"
[9:59 AM]I need to get my spelling checked
[9:59 AM]come and get some ham from tandfporkstore.com
[9:59 AM]LOL
[9:59 AM]More like sausage
[9:59 AM]Do llamas eat sausage?
[10:00 AM]they should put the Swedish Chef on there as flash going "pork, pork, pork"
[10:00 AM]Don't give them any ideas!
[10:00 AM]I think Alpaca's do - AHHHHH, ALPACA
[10:00 AM]lol
[10:00 AM]But what about Harvey the Wonder Llama?
[10:01 AM]oh he does
[10:01 AM]because I SAID SO
[10:01 AM]so don't ask why
[10:01 AM]lol
[10:01 AM]I'm QA, I have the FINAL SAY
[10:01 AM]"Welcome to MONDAY at (company name here)!"
[10:01 AM]lol
[10:01 AM]Grandma called....
[10:02 AM]She didn't get run over by a reinder?
[10:02 AM]she said to stop eating her steaks
[10:02 AM]I saw the most bizarro thing this weekend "A Twisted Sister" Christmas cd
[10:02 AM]reindeer is next month, this month it's turkeys, GOSH
[10:02 AM]YES
[10:03 AM]I want it
[10:03 AM]I'm truly frightened!
[10:03 AM]you find the COOLEST stuff
[10:03 AM]The even did a duet with Lita Ford.
[10:03 AM]you have like a cool stuff radar built in
[10:03 AM]LOL
[10:04 AM]Twisted Sister sings, the little drummer boy, with special guest, Lita Frod
[10:04 AM]Ford
[10:04 AM]Yeah - that's her second cousin twice removed.
[10:04 AM]no way
[10:04 AM]LOL
[10:04 AM]see, I'd believe that, just based on makeup alone
[10:04 AM]Or Lita Frodo - she dresses as a hobbit
[10:05 AM]you win, lol
[10:05 AM]because I'm laughing too hard to think of anything

What Broken Is

When it comes to the word broken, we all invision something different. Maybe it's a broken toy, or maybe a broken dish that use to be a favorite. Techies may think broken code and still other think, "man, I am flat Broke." But I can honestly say that I've seen broken and looked into her face and my heart hurt, my soul ached for this woman.

This woman is Anna Nicole Smith. How can that be, you ask? Well, yes, I've often looked at her as your typical "dumb blonde" in that Jessica Simpson way, I have NOTHING against blondes (Hi Bri!), and I've thought things such as "when will she just shut up" to "this woman is just gross". I know people have critisized her for marrying that old, extremely wealthy man and I've always said to that "if that man wanted someone to live out the rest of his days with, and it was Anna Nicole, then so be it."

So yeah, I jumped on the bandwagon of making fun of Anna Nicole Smith and her valley-girl stupidity, redneck ways, even if she did or didn't make it up.

But then, I saw an interview that she gave, after the death of her son, Daniel and after the birth of her daughter. And I saw such an intense grief on that woman's face that it rocked me to my very core. There was no faking it, there was no being dumb, being silly nor playing the role of "dumb blonde".

Like a wild animal, she looked anguished and pained, her eyes were empty, save for the tears, yet, they were full of emotion, as if they were searching for an answer, as if they were searching for her Daniel. But she couldn't seem to get the words out and the words that came out, were quickly followed by tears. My heart broke for that woman and I had to stop watching because I started crying.

I am not a mother, I do not know what it is like to lose a child, to lose a part of you, to lose your heart. But I do know this, I have seen a deep seeded grief that consumes someone whole. I have seen Broken.

This Just In - Or Up and Out As The Case May Be

Now, I've seen it all. I thought I had seen it all when I lived in NYC, but oh no...NOW,I have.

I bring you, the Wonderjock for men. Apparently, the design of the underwear "lifts and separates". Now, I'm not a guy and I think those Wonderbras look GREAT, but um...Wonderjocks? I'm not sure, if I was a guy I'd want my "junk" lifted and separated, ever.

What I've Learned From the South

I confess. I'm a YANKEE in the South. Grab your chillens and run and hide as fast as you can, lol. I've learned alot from living in the South and I recently learned that real Texas Chili has no beans?? I don't get that, Yankee Chili has beans and I make some damn good chili.

Well, no matter, on to what I've learned in the South.

The North has sun-dried toe-mah-toes,
The South has 'mater samiches. (for the record, I say too-may-toes, I've never said Toe-mah-toes, but I LOVE mater samiches)

The North has coffee houses,
The South has Waffle Houses. (AMEN, that's all I'm saying)

The North has switchblade knives,
The South has Lee Press on Nails.

The North has double last names,
The South has double first names.

The North has Ted Kennedy,
The South has Jesse Helms.

The North has an ambulance,
The South has an amalance.

The North has Indy car races,
The South has stock car races.

The North has Cream of Wheat,
The South has grits. (and yes, I finally caved and tried Grits, but now I will ONLY eat them at the Hickory House, I heart that place)

The North has green salads,
The South has collard greens. ( I love me some collards and black eyes peas and cornbread and yeah, um, I ate this stuff growing up in the North)

The North has lobsters,
The South has crawdads.

The North has the rust belt,
The South has the Bible Belt.

If you run your car into a ditch, don't panic. Four men in a four-wheel drive pickup truck with a tow chain will be along shortly. Don't try to help them, just stay out of their way. This is what they live for. (TRUE)

Don't be surprised to find movie rentals and bait in the same store. Don't buy food at this store. (I've seen this, I've been in side a store like this, I bought a Coke)

Remember, "y'all" is singular, "all y'all" is plural, and "all y'all's" is plural possessive.

Get used to hearing "You ain't from round here, are ya?" (more times than I can count)

You may hear a Southerner say "Ought!" to a dog or child. This is short for "Ya'll ought not do that!" and is the equivalent of saying "No!" ( I say "ought" now as well)

Don't be worried at not understanding what people are saying. They can't understand you either.

The first Southern expression to creep into a transplanted Northerner's vocabulary is the adjective "big'ol," truck or "big'ol" boy. Most Northerners begin their Southern-influenced dialect this way. All of them are in denial about it. (Yep, I caught myself saying Big ol' boy one day and KNEW I was doomed)

The proper pronunciation you learned in school is no longer proper. (I can't abide by this, I really can't)

Be advised that "He needed kill'n" is a valid defense here.

If you hear a Southerner exclaim, "Hey, y'all, watch this," stay out of the way. These are likely to be the last words he'll ever say.

If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even the smallest accumulation of snow, your presence is required at the local grocery store. It doesn't matter whether you need anything or not. You just have to go there. (SO TRUE, and the stores run out of eggs, milk and bread, that's ALOT of French toast people)

When you come upon a person driving 15 mph down the middle of the road, remember that most folks learn to drive on a John Deere, and that is the proper speed and position for that vehicle. ( I can drive a tractor, in John Deere Green - bonus points if anyone know the rest of the words to that song)

So yes, this is what I've learned from the South, among other things, but these things, well...yeah, you just have to smile.

Need Some Votes

Okay, all. I need some help. Please go to James Avery and then go to Crosses, silver, tell me which one you like best, really. It's a gift for someone and I need it soon.

Thanks guys!

P.S. Sorry, I tried to link just the Crosses page and it didn't work.

I Want This - Zero to 100 in less than 10 seconds

Oh yes, oh yes I do. This is my dream car and I don't care that it can't "park itself", I'm a parallel parking FOOL.

Introducing, the Aston Martin Vanquish S - they run about $260,000 and so what if I can't have it, I mean a girl can dream can't she??? VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The 10 Minute Post - Or Things I Never Thought I'd Do

It's really 15, but I need 5 minutes to get to my STUPID meeting. We'd have a meeting on how to change a light bulb just to make sure no one got offended.

Anyway...on to the post.

Things I Never Thought I'd Do
1.Wear any shoes with a heel bigger than half an inch.
2.Run to catch the elevator in said shoes - which I did today and felt like a big ol girl.
3.Actually like grits.
4.Jump out of an airplane, voluntarily and with a parachute.
5.Tell someone to "blow me and swallow", yes I said that.
6.Find my better half.
7."let go"
8.Pull my MCl while dancing.
9.Be told I'd make a great mom - and want to have children with the right person
10.Meet really cool people that blog - seriously, AWWWW - ok, that's enough.

What's something you never thought you'd do?