I don't know why I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep, but happen it did (that sort of sounds Yoda-ish, doesn't it?).

My legs were twitchy and restless - NOW - if I were dumb enough to listen to those stupid medicine commercials, I'd think I had restless leg syndrome and run to my doctor, praying the new meds wouldn't interact with my old ones, but the simple truth is, I was a complete vegetable yesterday, watching an America's Next Top Model marathon and napping. My legs had good reason to be restless, they hadn't done jack-all to get worn ot and needed to move. Terri told me something interesting about med companies, but I'll come back to that later.

I got up, considered going for a walk, but since it was around one, decided that might not be a good idea, as our country roads have no sidewalks and weekend nights, the drunks all come flying down the road, playing russian roulette with the big old oak trees ..Hello? Drunkards? Tree is GOING to win every time, as all those sad little crosses will attest.

But I digress. Hell, this whole post is one giant digression, isn't it?

Happy Mother's Day, btw.

I dismiss the walk and am possessed by a burning desire to work on Summer's End, so I go to the computer and do just that. Here's another confession - I lost my ending. Like the last seven chapters ... just couldn't find them. I have a REALLY bad tendency to squirrel away copies of my wip to avoid having a data loss. I mail it to myself too, so I had lots of copies, just not the end. But I FOUND it! YAY! Now work can continue.

I also had a song ... well, a snippet actually, running through my head. It took a bit of research to find it, but find it I did. *snicker* (Go away Yoda - there's no Jedi here desirous of training - WAIT! Can you teach me that levitation thing? That would be cool ... Yoda? Hello? Darn it.)

The song is Sukiyaki, by A Taste of Honey ... which I found out was a sort of translated version of an originally Japanese song, which I have to hear now, too.

Why was this song bugging me? Well, it was popular when Gary and I were dating. I found a copy and purchased it and have been listening to it on and off since. What a load of memories that evoked. My parents, true to that time, were not very fond of the idea of Gary and I getting together and had shipped me off to live with my dad, in Virginia. *snort* I had a car, people - and the one SURE way to encourage a romance is to discourage it, at least when there's a really immature girl involved.

I would listen to this song, laying in bed at night, looking out the window at all the stars and wishing I was back with Gary. Though it was only a few months, that time of separation seemed to last forever.

Ah youth. Both a blessing and a curse.

So, yesterday I ended up trying to go to a couple of Rain or Shine yardsales, hauling the three girls with me.

*shudder*

I took the truck. Someone was sniffing incessantly, which drives me crazy and someone else kept passing gas. The blower broke, so the windows got all steamed up, making it virtually impossible to see. I really was NOT supposed to go, so I took the girls home, told Gary he was in charge, which really just means he watches TV and calls my cell in case of emergency, and went to the store.

Have you ever LOOKED at a Super Wal-Mart lately? The sheer amount of consumption we are a part of? I just wanted meat, vegs, fruit, eggs, milk, bread - but had to wade through so MUCH prepared - pre-packaged CRAP, that I wanted to scream.

I watched a young employee shove a box at the glass freezer cases and mutter that he'd just FILLED that area and all the food was gone already. I looked around at all the people pushing overloaded carts through the store, some people were so heavy, they were driving those chairs with carts attached.

I could just imagine all the boxes waiting in the back of the store to be unpacked, with more constantly being shipped in - all the people streaming into the store with open arms and back out again, staggering under their load, taking it all home and producing trash that our landfills have to somehow absorb. I was so startled by the sudden observation, I took what I had and left.

It made me dizzy.

Okay - one more tidbit, before I wander away. That thing Bood told me about medicine companies? She said that when a patent runs out, the pharm giant will have it's researchers manipulate the way it's assembled a tiny bit and then manufacture a "condition" that the "new" pill is applicable to. Scary, huh, if it's true?

Supposedly, there was a depression med that's time had run out and now generics were allowed, so the huge money maker was over, THEN the company repackaged the product, adding pink coloring ('cause you know, girls like pink) and are currently marketing the OLD depression med as a cure all for PMS. And not just any old PMS, that's fixed with solitude and chocolate, THIS PMS is so bad, that doctor's had to think up a new name for it. It's now a Condition. One that requires - TADA! - a new medicine! One that the patents are going to be in place for some time, so no big old bad generics, aiming at ripping off the poverty stricken drug companies, can supplant.

We live in a crazy ass world, you know that?

I am annoyed. It's raining and I was SO looking forward to going to yard sales.

*sigh*

I had my route all planned out, and bargains were dancing in front of my eyes. Oh well, things usually happen for a reason, so I'll settle down, I suppose. I'm probably SUPPOSED to go grocery shopping, like I'd normally have done yesterday (my off Friday), except I had to work.

I just finished 'The Godmother' by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough. On the whole I enjoyed it - but there were some places where I was a bit uncomfortable in the book - harm against children always bothers me. It's my personal opinion that it wasn't needed - but I understand the point the author was trying to make: It happens.

I know, but it's still painful to read. I'm not sure I can recommend this book, based on those few scenes, though it ended well.

Jaime came off the bus yesterday and informed me that she had invited a friend to stay the night.

*blink.blink*

"Who?"

After telling me the child's name, Jaime assumed a dramatic face and informed me the young lady in question had received a DEATH THREAT - one that included JAIME as well! It seems that the day before, upon arriving home, the young lady had found said DEATH THREAT posted to her door in the form of a sticky note.

Okay.

I'd always thought I'd raised the kids to be less credulous. It seems I was wrong.

Jaime was horrified by the thought that someone would want to KILL her and ran around in circles, exclaiming she was frightened, which of course prompted Jer to react.

Running into his bedroom, he retrieved his cricket bat and swung it around in a menacing fashion (almost bopping Noah, I might add). "If you think I'd let anyone hurt you, Jaime, you're wrong! I'd take this lacrosse stick -"

"Cricket bat," I remind him.

"Yeah. Sorry, mom. I'd take this cricket bat and beat the crap** out of them!"

Jaime stops running around. "Why does a cricket need a bat?"

Now Jeremy drops the Neanderthal pose to examine the brightly colored bit of wood in his hands. "I don't know. Mom, why is it called that?"

"Terri got it in India, where the little boys your age play a game called "Cricket". We can look up the rules later on the internet."

"Okay, thanks."

"And guys, no one is trying to kill Jaime OR her friend. I think someone's got an overactive imagination. And maybe a problem with being truthful."

This discussion of reality is interrupted by Jaime's guest arriving. Her folks (whom I have never met), don't bother getting out of the car, so I traipse barefoot across the wet grass and offer my hand. "I'm Kathi, Jaime's mom."

The parents introduce themselves, then toss the car into reverse, shouting over the broken muffler that their daughter has their cell phone number memorized and she can call if there are any problems.

Okay.

I watch them rattle up the road and ponder that I must have an honest face.

The child looks at me brightly and asks if I've heard about the man living behind my house, across the gully.

"No." I frown.

"He's a murderer!"

The other children shriek. I sigh and shake my head. It's going to be a long night.

Everyone (um, except me) decides to bundle up and go outside to play; it's really rather chilly, so long sleeves and jackets are in order. Noah is beside himself as he always is when he's 'one of the big kids'.

The cricket bat goes outside as well, and as I watch out the window, I see Jeremy posturing with the piece of wood and the girls screaming in terror every time they run into the backyard. Noah is also screaming, but it's just with delight, because he's outside, running around.

Another little girl comes by to stay the night with Jaime and joins in the fun. My head begins to ache and I scour the house for chocolate, but of course, because I haven't been to the grocery store, there is none.

Finally it's time to come in and get ready for bed. There's a lot of commotion about where to sleep, but finally the two guests end up in Jaime's bed and Jaime and Noah are in bed with me. I've carefully explained to everyone that I will be waking them up VERY EARLY so we can go to yard sales, so it's important that everyone go to sleep.

Jeremy wakes me up at eleven. "Mom, daddy wants you."

I leap out of bed gracefully (okay, that's a lie - I almost tip over) and go into the living room, where the two female guests are standing side by side talking to Gary, who looks at me. "Help."

I decide it's time to stop being pleasant. Snarling, I march the young ladies back to bed and remind them that I HAVE a vehicle and I'm NOT afraid to use it and won't their parents be ANNOYED if I have to wake them up to deliver two naughty children back home?

They are suitably cowed and fall asleep.

Jeremy waves from his bedroom. "Thanks mom, now I can go back to sleep."

Sleepovers are NOT fun.

** -Crap is a word Gary and I argue over. He thinks it's okay for the kids to use, I'm not sure I agree. But for now, it's allowed, though I frown heavily when I hear it, to get my point across.

It's only used in situations where intense emotion is involved - such a being murdered by a random sticky note poster.

I feel a little like Tom Sawyer.

How, you ask? Okay - I'll tell you. We'll need to back up a bit though ...

When Gary and I bought this house a decade or so ago - there was a dishwasher in the kitchen. NO, don't be silly - not hooked up, just stuffed between a couple of cabinets. The woman who used to own the house "had always been meaning to, but never got around to hooking it up - besides, she just wanted something to go between the cabinets that looked nice but wasn't a cabinet."

I'm SO not kidding.

Well, with one thing and another, WE'VE never gotten the darn thing hooked up either. We actually keep plastic bags in it - yes, we do use the dishwasher as a storage bin - I know, that *is* it's own special brand of weird, you don't need to tell me. Anyway I'm not really sure the drain field out back could handle the extra water flow. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, back to me.

I was getting ready to do the dishes, not really feeling it, when I noticed Jaime sitting at the dining room table, watching me. Suddenly, I had a wicked idea.

"You know," I add extra bubbles to the water. "When I was your age, I used to LOVE to do dishes." Froth bubbles extra big with my hands. "It was fun."

Jaime's eyes are huge. "You mean a kid can do dishes?"

Hee hee hee. Oh hunnie, you have NO idea of the chores a kid can do, I think to myself, but I nod instead of letting the sinister chuckles escape. "SOME kids can do dishes. The ones that are very, very careful." I check the water to make sure I've washed all the knives. I can't in good conscience let her wash those yet.

Standing up, Jaime sidles over to the sink, longing on her face. "I bet *I* could be careful ..."

Muahahahha. Evil plan in full swing. I widen my eyes. "You know what! I bet you could, too!" I step aside and had her the dishcloth. "Here you go."

She's happily splashing in the sink, doing a VERY credible job when I realize Jer is unoccupied - at least in my opinion. From his point of view, he's a little busy playing X-Box.

I understand a little about the psychology of my kids - if I tried the 'Tom Sawyer' with Jer - it'd be a bust. He's a little more canny than his sister. With him, it's best to be blunt. "Jeremy - come vacuum the living room."

"Mooo-oom!" He wails.

"And then when you're done, take the trash out. Want to say something else?" I poke my head into the family room and give him the evil eye. No back sassing allowed. It's bad form.

He pokes his lip out (hey, I have to give him something, right?) and gets his chores done. I make dinner, listening to the happy noises of chores getting done around me.

Ah bliss.

The best part is, now everyday, when Jaime gets off the bus, she bursts into the kitchen and begs to do the dishes. Having already raised three kids to adulthood, I've seen this before and know it's NOT going to last, but I'm perfectly willing to take advantage of it while it does.

Time for work. *makes.face*

So, yesterday Tina carried me to my doctor appointment.

What a bust.

We had to leave at 530 for an 830 appointment - the doctor is two hours away from my house. Tina normally drives me, as I am SO not a city driver - I usually end up on the shoulder (once I was run off the road by a white limousine, can you fathom it?), shaking in terror after some near-fatal collision. So, Fee drives.

We left at 540, but no big deal. Stopped for gas and soda, cause lord knows I don't pee enough as it is, right? Then headed up the road and were making good time until I decided to help with the directions ...

I'm holding the printed out Mapquest how-to, which suddenly appears to have a glaring omission: the road is splitting, but this is NOT reflected.

"Go this way," I point, and Tina turns the wheel, tearing across traffic.

"Sorry, geez, " I mouth at some guy laying on his horn. Then to Tina, "Some people."

She doesn't answer. I'm starting to feel the effects of my pop. "Hey, uh ..."

"Oh god, are you serious?" Tina frowns and looks around. "Well, we're going to be on this next stretch for twenty-six miles, so I guess we better find someplace to stop."

"There's a gas station." I point out.

Fee has to do a u-turn in order to get to said gas station, and I hop out and run inside. It's so tiny, there's no bathroom. URGH! I spot some guy with his head inside the back of a mini-van and walk up behind him. "Excuse me?"

He hits his head on the edge of the metal door and rubbing the sore spot, turns to glare at me.

"Oh ... sorry. Where's the nearest McDonalds?"

He points silently up the road.

Tina's window was down, so she doesn't say anything when I get in the car, just pulls off. She taps the clock. "We better not be late."

"We'll be fine."

We find the McDonalds - one the of FILTHIEST places I've ever seen. I was afraid to touch anything in the bathroom - I couldn't even wash my hands - THAT'S how gross it was.

Ugh.

So, back on the road, I glance across the median, onto the other side of the highway and remark on the standstill traffic. "Good thing we're not over there, huh?"

We both laugh. We stop laughing a few minutes later when we discover my telling Tina to "go this way" was bad gouge. So, we have to turn around.

Onto the highway with standstill traffic.

At eight thirty, I call the doctor's office and hear a recorded message that no one answers the phones until nine. "Well, that's stupid," I mutter snapping closed my cell phone. I notice Tina looks a little pale. "What's wrong with you?"

"I have to pee."

"Oh no!" I look wildly around the car. "There's nothing for you to use! wait - I could pour this soda out - you can use this cup."

Slowly, she turns and gives me what is quite possibly the most evil look in the world. "And how would you suggest I USE that cup, hmm? Get out on the verge? Have the whole world watch me? I'm sure I'll be arrested."

I look around at the deadlocked traffic around us. "The cops couldn't get here."

"Stop talking."

"Fine. I'm just trying to be helpful."

"STOP TALKING."

I sniff and be quiet. Looking out the window, I notice a woman pick her nose and examine it. Gee-ross! I glance at Tina but decide the no talking ban is still in effect, so I don't point the woman out to her.

The traffic moves, then stops. Moves, then stops. "I wonder if there's a car accident?" I mumble, peering forward. Tina doesn't answer. I sigh and flop back into my seat, wishing again that I'd brought a book with me.

Finally - "We need to scoot over, our exit is coming up."

"I've been trying to get over, no one will let me in."

I frown. "Why didn't you say something?" I unroll my window.

"KATHLEEN!" Tina shrieks. I turn back to her.

"What?"

"You're going to do a MOM!"

"Oh be quiet." I go back to what I was doing. Leaning out the window, I wave at the driver next to us, who's trying to avoid looking at me. I wave harder, then shout, "Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!"

Then driver glances at me, nods briefly, then looks away again, seeming to be embarrassed. I wave again, smiling. "Thank you! I knew your mother raised you better than that!" I pull the upper half of my body back into the car. "It's good - he's going to let you in."

Tina's looking horrified, muttering, "I can't believe you pulled a MOM! 'Excuse me, excuse me!' Oh my gawd."

"Well, it got you over. You still need to pee, right?"

"Yeah." She zips onto the exit and we find a gas station. There's no parking.

"Pull in front of a pump, like you're going to get gas," I suggest.

Fee doesn't even turn the car off, just jumps out and runs into the store. I notice there's an old lady in front of our car, pumping gas. She stares at me suspiciously. I wave, but she just glares. "I'm so glad I don't live up here - everybody is such a cranky pants," I say out loud.

Some guy is walking around the gas station with a broom and dustpan, sweeping up non-existent trash. He's wearing a wife beater, a mustache like Hulk Hogan's and some crazy looking scarf on his head. I get the impression he THINKS he looks hot, but since he's close to my age and is sporting a fairly respectable paunch, I think he just looks silly, sort of like a rooster, strutting around, sweeping, instead of crowing.

Tina jumps back into the car and I start to get out. "Where are you going?"

"I have to pee, too. I just didn't want to mention it, because you'd think I was trying to take the attention away from you."

Five minutes later, I'm back in the car. "Why do all these bathrooms smell like dooky? Doesn't anyone take care of business at home?"

Tina's got her cell phone pressed to her ear, calling the doctor's office as it is now an hour and forty-five minutes past my appointment time and waves at me to be quiet. She wants to make sure that the doctor can still see me.

"My gawd, that woman's been pumping gas since we got here." I poke Tina's arm and point. "She's been giving me the evil eye too - what - do I LOOK like a terrorist or something?"

Fee ignores me. "What are they saying?" I ask.

"I'm on hold. Here -" she hands me the phone. "You listen."

I take the phone and wait. Then someone picks up the line. I explain my situation, telling the woman we are five minutes away from the office, but want to make sure I can still be squeezed in.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. The doctor's surgery ran over - he's canceling all his appointments for today."

Tina can evidently hear the woman because she screams, "WHAT!!!"

"I'm sorry!" The woman replies.

"It's not your fault," I tell the woman, then I reschedule my appointment for June before hanging up.

"I can't believe this." Tina looks at me.

"Well." I scan the gas station. "Look at the bright side. At least you don't have to pee anymore."

She doesn't answer - just pulls into traffic.

I hope she forgets this experience by June, is all I can say.

From serasempre - I'm too lazy to put any coding in here, so I'm adding my own little blurb after books I've read.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - no
Anna Karenina - no
Crime and Punishment - no
Catch-22 - yes
One Hundred Years of Solitude - no
Wuthering Heights - yes, many times
The Silmarillion - yes
Life of Pi : a novel - yes, reluctantly, Terri made me
The Name of the Rose - yes
Don Quixote - yes
Moby Dick- yes
Ulysses - no
Madame Bovary - no
The Odyssey - yes
Pride and Prejudice - yes
Jane Eyre - yes, many times
The Tale of Two Cities - yes
The Brothers Karamazov - no
Guns, Germs, and Steel: the fates of human societies - YES, good book
War and Peace - no
Vanity Fair - no
The Time Traveler’s Wife - yes
The Iliad - no
Emma - no
The Blind Assassin- no
The Kite Runner - no
Great Expectations - no
American Gods - yes
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - no
Atlas Shrugged - no
Reading Lolita in Tehran: a memoir in books - no
Memoirs of a Geisha - yes, many times
Middlesex - started it - ugh
Quicksilver - no
Wicked: - started it, didn't like it
The Canterbury Tales - no
The Historian : a novel - no
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - no
Love in the Time of Cholera - no
Brave New World - no
The Fountainhead - no
Foucault’s Pendulum - no
Middlemarch - no
Frankenstein - of course, gawd
The Count of Monte Cristo - no
Dracula - yes
A Clockwork Orange - no
Anansi Boys - yes
The Once and Future King - yes
The Grapes of Wrath - no
The Poisonwood Bible: a novel - yes
1984 - yes
Angels & Demons - no
The Inferno (and Purgatory and Paradise)- no
The Satanic Verses no
Sense and Sensibility - no
The Picture of Dorian Gray - no, but I've been meaning to
Mansfield Park - no
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest - yes, how sad
To the Lighthouse - no
Tess of the D’Urbervilles - no
Oliver Twist - yes
Gulliver’s Travels - yes
Les Misérables - no
The Corrections - no
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay - no
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time - yes, good book
Dune - yes
The Prince - yes
The Sound and the Fury - no
Angela’s Ashes: a memoir - yes
The God of Small Things - no
A People’s History of the United States : 1492-present - no
Cryptonomicon - huh?
Neverwhere - yes
A Confederacy of Dunces - yes and I need to return it to ML *blush*
A Short History of Nearly Everything - no
Dubliners - no
The Unbearable Lightness of Being - no
Beloved - yes, didn't like it
Slaughterhouse-five - ugh, yes
The Scarlet Letter - yes, very sad
Eats, Shoots & Leaves - Di bought it for me! Love it!
The Mists of Avalon - yes
Oryx and Crake: a novel - yes, didn't like it
Collapse: how societies choose to fail or succeed - nope
Cloud Atlas - no
The Confusion - no
Lolita - no
Persuasion - no
Northanger Abbey - no
The Catcher in the Rye - no
On the Road - no
The Hunchback of Notre Dame - yes
Freakonomics : not yet, though Lean Cuisine recommended this to me, I plan to
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance : an inquiry into values - no
The Aeneid - no
Watership Down - many, many times, love this book
Gravity’s Rainbow - nope
The Hobbit - many times
In Cold Blood : a true account of a multiple murder and its consequences - no
White Teeth - no
Treasure Island - yep
David Copperfield - yep
The Three Musketeers - yep

A lot of these I read as a child (classics). My parents and grandparents were big on kids reading classics and I snuck and read a couple that were my moms, such as one flew over the cuckoo's nest when I was like twelve - maybe eleven. I'll never forget stories like Treasure Island, they have the feel of my childhood to me. I was so shy and afraid of everything and everyone, I'd retreat into my bedroom with some saltines and a book and read. It was a total immersion for me.

I'm a little confused about some of the books on this list. Sure, the classics, I understand - but Gaiman? Watership Down? These aren't books that were difficult to get through and I can't imagine anyone being 'impressed' by someone reading them. Is it just me?

Ah well.

No writing today, I'm afraid - I have work to do - brough my laptop home last night, worked until about seven and back to it this morning.

Yuck.

And double yuck - Omni leaves again this morning. No more screw ups on the part of the Navy and visits home until he's done over there.

Bye for now.

Wow - long time no talk.

First things first - have a new short up at Membra Disjecta (Scattered things): http://www.membradisjecta.com/page-14/

Check it out, if you all have time. My writing buds will recognize it :)

Last week, I was literally falling asleep at the keyboard, whenever I'd sit down to write. That's passed now, but I swear to good goodness, I'm not sure I've ever been that sick before, in my life. The recovery time was extremely long.

I've been thinking about why I was so ill and now I'm pretty sure I've got it pinned. I've had a guilty secret for AGES. Most people think I'd quit smoking, but I hadn't really, I just went underground with it. Lord, LORD - I wanted to quit, I just COULD NOT DO IT. And it really bothered me - I mean, I'd lay in bed at night with so much anxiety about the fact that I was smoking. I KNEW it was unhealthy. I KNEW I was going to pay for it. But I still couldn't stop.

Having said that, I think I helped myself out here. I got so sick, there was no way I could have smoked. Absolutely, positively NO WAY. So, I finally kicked it - I haven't had a cigarette in three weeks. Not to say I still don't want one, because I do - all the time. I just know how shitty I'll feel with that first inhale, it's not going to be the way I imagine it at all, so I'm refraining.

It was a hell of a way to quit, let me tell you. *laugh*

My mom popped in last week. What a shock! It was Monday past and about five in the evening, I was in bed, sleeping, actually (told you the recovery was terrible) and my sister walked into my room.

"Get up."

I blink groggily. "Huh?"

"Get up - you need to come outside."

Looking from Fee to the window, I point out that it's raining. She's unmoved by that fact. I give a weak (forced) cough, trying to play the sick card, but she glares at me and I sigh and pull myself up and walk outside. "I'm not wearing a bra," I grumble, peering through the pouring rain at her truck, where I see a bunch of birthday balloons in the passenger side window. I stop in disbelief. "You're making me walk out here in the rain for some BALLOONS??!!"

She doesn't answer, so I stomp over to the passenger side, intending to yank the door open and grab the balloons. Well, I yank the door open, but it's not only balloons there - it's my mom too! She's flown in from AZ for my birthday!

How cool is that??

It was a lovely visit, but sadly Jade was on travel all week and Terri at school. Omni was here, which was wonderful and on mom's last night here, Bobble brought Noah over, so mom could see him. Can I just say here, I'm so fond of Bob? I'm sad that things didn't work out for he and Jade, but so eternally grateful for the family they are - it's so wonderful to have them in our lives, not to mention great for Noah, too.

Mom cried when she saw Noah, saying he's gotten so big and has such a pleasant nature.

Gary got me a wonderful card (with one of his famous stick men drawings on it - he used to do those on his love letters to me, years ago) and a book for my birthday. Actually, I picked out the book - it's World Without End - the second one by Ken Follett, much too pricey for me to buy in hardcover, but he didn't blink. *laugh*

I got so many emails from my wonderful friends, wishing me the best and a sweet giftcard from my best bud, Di. Can't wait to spend it! Thanks to everyone, really. It was the best birthday I've had in years, so many people called me (Chell!) to wish me the best, I was quite weepy by the end of the day. I'd hug you all, 'cept, you know - I don't want to risk giving you what I had. *laugh*

Omni, Jeremy and Gary went to go see Ironman, yesterday afternoon - their version of a boys night out. They came home quite pleased, though Gary did admit his behind was a bit sore by the end of the two hour flick. I'd made Italian Wedding soup and home made strawberry shortcake while they were gone. Omni and Nicole have colds, so chicken soup is just the ticket, right?

I dished Omni up a bowl after the movie - he blinked at it. "What's this? It looks like sushi." I realized I'd never made this soup for him - of course I only discovered it like a year ago, but it's great. He took a couple of hesitant bites and discovered he really liked it, so I sent a huge covered container home with him. I bought the strawberries fresh, at a local stand on Saturday, used some poundcake I had and whipped my own cream. Delish!

Got Jaime a globe on Saturday (for a quarter) at the yard sales. She and Jer have been after me for MONTHS to get them one, but I swear, I just couldn't spend the money the store asks for, I just couldn't!

Other great buys: more, LOTS more, clothes for Cameron - I've even got some put away for the next year for her. A hieroglyphics kit for Jeremy, he who is obsessed with all things Egyptian, a skilsaw for Gary (five bucks) and a new winter coat for Jaime for next year (quarter!).

I love good deals and being thrifty!

Okay. I'm probably won't write, write until tomorrow, I'm still catching up. But it DOES feel lovely to be back on track, even though I'd LOVE to smoke right now. But I won't.

Hugs to all,
Kaff

The last two days, my sister has dragged me from the house, so I could get fresh air - she hoped that would be the key to me feeling better.

Boy - she was right.

Of course later, when I mentioned this to Gary, he nodded sagely. "The air in the house is stale. It's no wonder you've been so sick."

Hmm.

Anyway - I FEEL BETTER. I may even feel like writing later on today. I have a couple of juicy letters from ML that I need to respond to, as well.

Terri and Will popped in on Friday night, scaring the crappers out of me. I was in bed, sort of trying to sleep and feeling very restless, when I heard someone try the front door and found it locked. I had my bedroom windows open, so heard a feminine voice complaining about something in the back yard, at which point I sat up. What the hell ...? Slow measured footsteps sounded in the kitchen and I freaked out, until Bood came around the corner. "Since when do we lock the front door?"

"Um - since your father put a lock on it, I guess." We lived here for like nine years with no lock on our door. "What are you doing here?"

"Gee, mommy - it's nice to see you too!"

"Oh, sorry, baby. You know what I mean." Then I brighten. "You've come to help me clean up, haven't you?" I had been complaining on the phone that I wished she would come and help me clean the house. I feel better, but still weak as hell and this is Gary's busiest season. Jer and Jaime are great, but it would be nice to have undirected help, if you know what I mean.

"Not so much."

I sigh and lay back down.

BUT - when Fee dragged me to a few yard sales yesterday, Bood cleaned the kitchen nicely, so I was pleased.

What did I get at the yard sales? Okay, I'll tell you:

Tons of clothes for the grandkids, and Jaime this big huge box of wooden blocks (which oddly enough Noah adores too *laugh*). Jaime also got a little karaoke machine and some kind of pink lockbox with straps all over it.

I don't really care too much what she gets (with the exception of stuffed animals - that's just gross) from yard sales - as long as the price is right. And she's a smart shopper, like me, so there's never an issue about paying too much for anything. I've seen her replace an item, a look of distaste etched on her face, when she's seen a too high price tag. "Who would pay that much for that?" she asks the air.

I study her, then nod. It's time. Taking her hand, I say gently, "Jaime - it's time to move forward with your training. Today, I impart to you the ancient art of ... haggling."

To be continued.

I had such a hard time getting out of bed this morning. I just wanted to escape back into dreamland where everything is nice ... and nothing hurts.

*sigh*

I finally decided that I'd better pay some bills before we get tossed out on our ears. It's a measure of how much better I feel that I actually care.

I started re-reading Pillars of the Earth yesterday. What a book, eh? The first time I read it, was more than ten years ago - I'd gotten copy from a yard sale for like a quarter and loved it, passing it around to everyone I knew. Eventually, it didn't come back to me ... but that's the way books are - you love 'em, you read 'em, they move on.

But it's certainly been long enough that I'd forgotten the meat of the book and as there's a book TWO out now ... well, enough said.

There's been a lot of buzz in the reading community about Pillars - I think Oprah must have talked about it or something - but don't let that turn you off - it was a great book even before it got noticed. Follett actually wrote the thing like eighteen years ago. I had no idea he was going to do a sequel, but I'm sure not saying no.

Okay. Nausea impending.

See you later.

:)

Sorry for the long absence, but I have been ill. I'll spare everyone the gory details, just suffice to say it hasn't been pretty.

I still feel like crap, weak and shaky, but have to go back to work today, so if you're on the Eastern Seaboard, you may want to steer clear of Maryland.

Poor Jeremy has been ill right along with me, as has Jade. Somehow Jaime and Gary have escaped.

Oh well - no interesting stories to tell - perhaps when I'm feeling better I'll share some of my fever dreams. Now there were some whoppers!!

I got some editing done yesterday. I watched half of Mirrormask and thought - yeah, Summer's End is the same vein, isn't it? I was inspired, so I paused the movie and edited until my back gave out on me. Then I fell asleep until Karina came home from school.

"What's wrong?" she asked, touching my arm and waking me.

"Oh no!" I sit up, horrified. "Why did you touch me?"

She jerks her hand away. "Why?"

"I've got bubonic plague."

"What's that?"

*sigh*

What's with kids today? You can't even scare them, they're so uninformed. "It's a highly contagious deadly disease. That's why I'm home sick today. Now you've probably got it too." I shake my head sadly. "I feel bad for you."

"I feel bad for *you*," she shoots back, going to find a snack. I hear her mumble, "Acting so weird ..."

Whatev.

The pollen here is obscene right now - everything is coated with a light yellow dust, including the children. Jaime came home from school. "This planet is killing me!"

Blink. "Why is the planet trying to kill you, darling child?"

"Every time I breath, my chest hurts!" She stands in the kitchen, dramatically posed, one hand pressed to her chest, the other outstretched as if to ward off the Evil Earth. When there's no immediate response from me, she adds a couple of coughs.

So I shrug and haul out the children's Claritin. Her face falls. Jaime hates medicine of any type, but this stuff works for her, stills the coughing and general malaise Spring brings on.

Hey, at least it's not cod liver oil, which I *did* give to the older three. They'd see the brown bottle come out of the fridge and run. Talk about battles.

"At least give me water," she begs. Rolling my eyes, I comply. I know what she's doing - she's competing for my title of Drama Queen in the house. Keep trying sweetie - it's going to be an uphill battle.

Then I get report cards. Not so great. Jeremy keeps forgetting to bring all of his work home, I had a meeting with his teacher last week about this - he does fine in school, just doesn't always bring everything home that he's supposed to. And it's impacting his grades.

In fact, he's forgotten one of the things he's got to do tonight. I know it's sheer disorganization and NOT a lack of desire to do the work - he's fretful when he realizes that he's forgotten and his teacher told me when he gets into the classroom, the first thing he does he rush to her desk and confess, as though he's committed a horrible crime - like off the class pet or something. Somehow I just don't see the child as a criminal mastermind, so I'm crossing that off my list as a possible career choice for him.

Anyway, he'd doing his work and I hear him groan.

"What's wrong?" Even though I've got a pretty good guess.

"I forgot my reading book, so I can't do this worksheet."

Studying him, I make a decision. "You get a pass tonight - but the next time you forget part of your homework, you cannot play video games that night."

He bursts into hysterical sobs. I'm a little alarmed - perhaps the pollen is affecting him after all, toying with his emotions.

"Go in the bathroom until you're done making that racket," I instruct and go sit down in the other room, watching as he goes into the bathroom, his little shoulders shaking. I yell after him, "You've got a pass tonight - why are you crying? You're assuming you're going to forget! Don't forget, there won't be a problem!"

Seems logical to me. I guess it does to him too, because a few moments later, he's back at the table calmly finishing his work.

It's my personal opinion that the kids have too much homework. Jeremy spends on average an hour a night, sometimes as much as two, doing work from school. That's a lot, for a ten year old. I don't think I did that much in high school. They even get homework over the weekend, for heaven's sake.

We're creating a generation of workaholics, I swear. I can't imagine what our lives would be like if the kids were in organized sports, as well. But, since I have a problem committing to those things, we don't have to worry about it. Jaime prefers to get out her dry marker board and do math problems and Jer talks to his cronies on the x-box.

Or they listen to music and dance. Sometimes I join them - they're still young enough that they welcome the intrusion, giggling when I act silly, or twirl them around in the air. We dance until I'm exhausted and collapse onto the sofa and they laugh at my lack of staying power.

They also have chores to do in the evening - taking out the trash, or dusting and running the vacuum. Can you imagine having to go to sports on top of all that? *shudder*

I prefer to have a more relaxed attitude - I don't want to schedule away their childhoods. Let Jaime sit down and write a story, when the inspiration strikes her, or paint, or do her endless math problems. Let Jer get all the little figures out and set up mock battles on the edge of the tub, or dance to crazy music or talk to his friends on his games, without me clock-watching so I can rush them off to the next happening.

Yeah, I suppose a part of it is laziness on my part - I fully admit that. But they only get to do this kid thing the one time - when they are grown, they will have to live by the clock. I'm not trying to rush that.

I wish I didn't have to.

Kaff feels like sh*t today.

Funny how emotional upheaval will impact physical well-being.

I am home today. I was going to write but just feel too crappy.

So, I'm having a personal day, bought and downloaded Gaiman's Mirrormask, which my best bud Di recommended.

She also said my writing is on par with his.

How could this woman NOT be my best bud, with comments like that?

Once I was sitting out back with Bood (this was pre-deck, so it was in lawn chairs on the grass) and we were chatting. She was talking about Myspace and how weird it is when adults have profiles on there. It's NOT, btw, a lot of authors have them and use those as part of their marketing. But whatever - all teens and young adults have the notion they are never going to get any older (and some don't, mentally) and they like to have their own turf. A place that is sancrosect and kept separate from annoying adults, such as moi.

As I watched her, an idea stole over me. I was giggling inside as I said, "Well, I have a Myspace!"

I don't, but wanted to see her reaction. She was horror-struck. "MOMMY! You DON'T!"

Har-de-har-har. "Yeah, I do."

She narrows her eyes. "What's your name?"

Thinking quickly, I improvised a name involving a jungle cat and numbers.

Whipping out her phone (she's got something like a blackberry), she connects, looking up the name. I watched, thinking, "Crap, the gig's up."

BUT NO! There *was* a woman on there with that name! No pictures, though. I was as surprised as Bood was, but had to struggle not to let it show. Bood begins to read the woman's profile. Out loud. Shooting me dirty looks.

This was a few years ago, so I don't remember everything, just that this was one wild chick - she rodes motorcycles and liked pudding wrestling, or some such nonsense. Terri was flabbergasted and more than a little grossed out.

"When do you have time to do all these things?"

I shrugged, looking innocent, dying with laughter inside.

Then she asks the whopper. "Does daddy know?" She knows as well as I do that daddy wouldn't think this was funny, he'd probably believe I was a female pudding wrestler in my spare time, not thinking - EW! Who'd want to see HER in a bikini? I love my hubby dearly, but he sees me through the lenses of time, thinking I'm still young and cute. I'm not, but whatev.

*gulp*

Joke over. "That's not me, sweetie, I was just kidding."

Now the joke's on me. She keeps believing it - even over my protests. Scanning the backyard, she asks, "Where's the motorcycle?"

"I don't HAVE a motorcycle. It's not ME! I don't HAVE a myspace page!" I'm getting annoyed now.

We continue in this vein for a few more minutes until I get exasperated and go inside.

To this day, Terri still occasionally looks at me, snorts and mumbles something about jungle cats and mommas that should know better. I'm not sure if she really thinks I've got this wild alter ego, or if she just likes to see me squirm. Probably the latter.

And today's funny kid story:

I was feeding the littles dinner, Noah declined to have any, thank you very much, and Jeremy handed me his empty can of pineapple juice. "We need to recycle this, mom."

"Yeah, I know." I toss it in the trash. "I'll get some buckets and we can start recycling again." I used to recycle. That's a lie. TERRI used to recycle. I know I need to start again.

Jaime says, "If you don't recycle, the FBI will shoot you."

Karina: No, they don't shoot you.

Jeremy: They take the trash that's not recycled and use this machine and get your fingerprints. Then they track the fingerprints back to your house and arrest you. Or use a stun gun. I can't remember.

Karina: That's the cops, not the FBI.

Jeremy: No, it's the FBI. I learned it in school.

Jaime: I don't want anyone to use a stun gun on me. Mom, what's a stun gun?

Noah: Watch me run, guys!

Karina: You didn't learn that in school. I went to that school. We never learned that. It's the cops.

Jeremy: Things are different since you went to school there.

Karina: In two years?

Jaime: What's a stun gun, mom?

Noah: Whee! I'm running!

Jeremy: Mom, we need to recycle. I don't want to go to jail.

Me: Noah, stop running. Everybody else, stop ya-yaing and use your mouths for eating. Jaime, don't worry about what a stun gun is - just don't speak up at any presidential debates and you'll never have to worry about it.

Silence reigns.

I hate Mondays. Hate, hate, hate Mondays. I just got a cup of coffee and put SUGAR in it. I hate sugar in my coffee. I prefer the vaguely chemical taste of Splenda, myself. I'm so out of it, I didn't NOTICE I'd put sugar in my coffee until I took a sip, then made a face. I wondered, "Can I stand to drink this instead of getting up to get another cup of coffee?" (See the laziness at work there?). So I drank a whole half a cup before sighing dramatically (why, I don't know - I'm the only one up, in other words, there's no audience to witness said sigh), going to the sink, tossing the contents away and making another cup. With Splenda this time.

Okay. Now, you can cue my morning. *yawn*

I had the NICEST conversation with Boody yesterday. I can't really discuss the content, as it would betray a confidence, but I will say this: I'm am SO pleased at how this child is turning out. She's so mature and insightful, so kind and just plain old PLEASANT to talk to. At one point in the conversation, I even told her, "Gosh! I am patting myself on the back!"

There's a pause, then her rich, smooth, coffee cream voice laughs before asking, "Why, mommy?"

"Because you turned out so damn good! And I'm taking ALL the credit!" I pause, thinking about this. "Okay, that's not entirely fair - I'll give daddy some, too. Say ... twenty-five percent."

She laughs again. "You're silly, mommy."

Yeah, yeah.

I spent yesterday thinking, man Kath - your post was a tad Pollyannish. How's about next post, you write something in a different vein - a funny, silly story of something you've done. And GOOD LORD, do I have a million of THOSE! Some of these things bring a mixture of tears to my eyes and furious blushing to my face.

One of my jobs at work is to schedule a/c for the office's use. I coordinate with a lot of people I've never met, and most I never will meet. But one of the fellows who I used to schedule on the plane ended up, years later, IN my office, filling one of the in-house roles.

I'm sure you all do this - make up a mental picture of someone you communicate with, but have never seen. If you don't, you're not like me at all and probably weird as well, so stop reading now. (nah, you can keep reading if you want, but you're still weird, I bet)

This one fellow, whose name I WILL NOT use to protect me from humiliation (notice I said me), had a rather odd last name. I had formed a mental picture of him as an unattractive man; nice, to be sure, but butt-ugly.

Until he showed up. He was just cute as a bug's ear! I was helping him get set up on the computer and began, as I often do, to talk. And, as I often do, I forgot the filter. *sigh*

Me: You look a lot different than I pictured you.

Him: Yeah? Am I cuter? (this fellow wasn't flirting at all - I'm not sure he would know how too, honestly. He's a little nerdy, like me and very, very sweet. And also, like me, very, very married. Besides which, he's very professional. He just thinks he's a lot funnier than he really is. Like me.)

Me: Yeah, actually you are. I thought you would be ugly, but you're not. (feel free to cringe at any time)

Now, this fellow doesn't know me. He has no idea that I forgot my filter on the bathroom floor that morning, that I am wildly happy with my husband, that I am YEARS (okay, not too many) older than him. He just naturally assumes I'm flirting. Guys - you gotta love 'em, right?

He tenses and I realize (in horror) what I've just said. He says (awkwardly), "I'll be sure and tell my wife that." And flexes his ring finger.

I'm torn between running away in embarrassment and laughing. But I realize, I can't recover - anything I say at this point will just make things worse. I WANT to say, "Honey, I'm old enough to be your ...older sister. I can already tell you're mildly dorky and that makes me like you, but not LIKE you, if you know the difference. I've been married to the same great guy for almost thirty years and we've got five kids. I am SO not flirting."

But I say none of these things. I keep my mouth shut, finish the job in awkward silence and take my leave of him. I figure that the folks who work directly with him in the office will tell him, when he asks (and of course, HE'S GOING TO ASK) that I'm NOT a flirter bug, that I was probably being amusing and witty (or perceived myself as such) and to shrug it off.

I could tell the next time we spoke, that he had been apprised of my sometimes awkwardness; he made a lame joke, I laughed and replied in kind and we've had a fine working relationship since then.

But I still blush when I think of it. And this, my friends, is just the tip of the ice burg, when it comes to silly things I've said/done.

I feel pretty oblivious at times - like perhaps I should blog about something important, instead of silly little blathers (which should REALLY be my blog title! I might change it ...). World hunger, aids, endangered animals ... but I just don't think I have any true zeal. Not that I don't care about stuff, I do - but I've seen these things done so much better elsewhere. I'll stick to light comic relief and leave the heavy stuff for others, such as my daughter, who seethes with zeal. So, in a way - I've done my part: I gave Terri the Crusader to the world.

Now before you think, "Oh my gawd, she's so shallow." stop a second. Because I'm not. I always try to right wrongs, I just don't do it on a global scale. The world needs both types I think - the one who's skilled at debating and money raising for huge efforts and the person who sees something happening the grocery store and steps up. I fall in the second category.

Before I got my current job, where I've been eight years now, I worked as a waitress. Man, Gary and I were a little on the broke tip back then, but we've recovered since. Anyway, one day, a pair of very old women were seated in my area. They were out for a nice lunch and quite pleasant as I recall, with beautiful manners, something you don't see so much of now, sadly. Halfway through the meal, I noticed one of them had dropped two twenties on the floor under the table, where it would have been impossible for either of them to see it. I didn't even think about it, just knelt, scooted under the table, grabbed the money and handed it back to them. They thanked me and that was that.

I worked with a younger girl, who watched the whole thing. When I got back over to the register, where she was, she said very casually, "I would have kept it."

All I could think was - wonder if that had been my gran? I tried to explain that to the girl, but she just shrugged and turned away. That's always bothered me, that she had such unthinking disregard for someone else's property.

Another time, I was waiting to check out at the grocery store and it was a bit hectic. The line was long behind a woman at the register, who was trying to both wrangle her young kids and pay for her stuff at the same time. There was some kind of hold up, but up to that point, I wasn't paying any attention. I prefer to let my mind wander when I'm stuck somewhere, it's more fun than getting impatient. Suddenly the man behind the woman says something to her, then takes another step back to address the line of people behind him. "Do you realize this woman is holding you up so she can use a coupon? So she can save five cents?"

Gawd, I felt so bad for the woman! Her face turned red and she got clumsy, spilling her coins everywhere, which just added to the delay. The man just kept SAYING things ... trying to humiliate this total stranger, who was WITH HER KIDS! I looked around, thinking someone was going to tell the dude to shut it, already, who cares? But no one would even meet his eyes - not even the cashier.

I am very shy. I get tongue-tied easily and don't like scenes, and have a hard time standing up for myself, but I can't stand to see someone else being bullied. It makes a mantle of red fall over my vision, quite literally. I think it's because I grew up with a younger sister with cerebral palsy and had to stop people from bullying her all the time.

I looked at the guy and said loudly, "She might be slow, but at least she's not an asshole."

The guy shut up and got back into line, the woman finally gathered herself and her kids and left. When I got to the cashier, she thanked me in a whisper.

I just don't understand people, but am beginning to understand the mob mentality.

Of course, my ability to Do Good is sometimes not as strong as I'd like. Another time, I was going to a local thrift store to get some books on the cheap. I love my books, but am not swimming in cash, so when I'm out of both funds and reading material, I go to the thrift store. The store is in a pretty unsavory part of town, not somewhere I'd go at night, but I don't mind when it's daytime.

In front of the store was a couple. The man was yelling at the woman, right in her face and she was cowering away from him. She was covered in bruises and skinny as a stick. It was stupid, I admit it - but I got out of the car and asked the woman if she needed help. The man turned on me, yelling and spitting. All I could think was, "If you touch me MF, my husband's going to come down here and kick your sorry ass all over the place." Gary doesn't play anybody bothering me. Somehow, that message must have shown up through my eyes, because he never laid a hand on me. Then, THEN! The WOMAN started yelling at me!

I actually said, "Are you serious?" and then shook my head and went inside. There's no helping some folks. They were gone by the time I got done searching for books.

So, while I don't crusade on a huge scale, I feel like I try to do my part whenever I can. Is that guy from the store still a jerk? Probably. Is that woman still getting smacked around? I'm sure she is, if she's not dead already. But I know I tried to do what I could - that I didn't stand by and become one of the faceless watchers. I also know karma's a bitch and bad comes back around to those that dole it out.

I'll keep blogging about nothing and give a little light relief to the Crusaders of the World when they need a break.

And to end with something humorous - here's a little Noah and Jaime scenario from yesterday:

Jaime and Noah were wrestling on the sofa, while I worked on the computer next to them. This only really works if you know how Noah speaks - he enunciates very clearly, each word very precisely pronounced in a childish treble, no lisping or slurring.

Wrestle, wrestle, giggle giggle. Noah pipes up, "Are you happy now?"

Jaime replies, "Yeah."

Noah pauses dramatically, "Well, you better go get some more happy!" And dives back onto her to wrestle again.

I don't know why that struck me as so funny, but I laughed and laughed, until I was bent over my keyboard in tears.

I LOVE Harry Dresden.

I couldn't wait, so went to the small bookstore here in town, praying that they'd have even one of Jim Butcher's books and SURPRISE! They did! You'd have to actually go to this bookstore to see why I'm surprised - a good third of it is given over to charming photography books featuring the Chesapeake Bay. They also sell a lot of crab knick knacks. Personally, I'd rather spend an afternoon drinking beer and EATING crabs than dusting a ceramic crab on my hutch, but that's just me, I guess.

I bought the first three books in the series and am halfway through the first one already. Can you say Heaven? I love finding a new, good author ...

See? That up there ... those last couple of lines? THAT'S what I want for myself. I want people to WANT to read my books ... to snatch up something off the shelf in the bookstore (or library) and say, "WHAT! She's got a new BOOK OUT?!?! I'm SO getting this!" (Cause that's what I do, when I see a new book by an author I like) Just keep working at it ...

Tina and I took Noah on our errands yesterday, OMG that kid was so good. Jade asked me to buy her a toaster and McWally World only had these high end fifty dollar ones. NOT. I buy myself a toaster or coffee maker on Black Friday, when I can get them for four dollars. There's usually one in reserve, but I gave one each to Omni and Nic over Christmas past and so now I have to pay *gasp* full-price for one. But there's NO WAY IN HELL I'm forking over fifty dollars for a toaster. WTF does a toaster DO that costs that much? Don't look at me - I saw the price tag and ran, didn't even take the time to read the box. Though on second thought, perhaps I should have, Maybe it comes with something fae that would have also cleaned my kitchen ... perhaps MADE my coffee and presented it to me in a charming china cup, along with a toasted muffin, dripping with butter ...mmmmm.

Or maybe not. Maybe it's just a freaking toaster that some corporate loony decided to price at fifty dollars to see if anyone would be retarded enough to buy it.

Anyway, Tina suggested we go to another low end store in town, where they sell cheap sh*t. We walk in and I look around. Yep - just like I remember, the two cashiers are doing their best to ignore the customers, instead chatting up some man (who seriously needs a bath), and the store itself is cluttered, dirty and ... is that a faint smell in the air? I resolve not to buy anything edible. "Oh yeah," I tell Tina. "Jaime wants a Disney Princess alarm clock. I got one here for Jadey last year."

We look up and down every disorganized aisle for another one. "Who puts sheets next to bbq sauce?" I whisper to Fee, who shrugs. "Is that a marketing ploy of some type?"

"Maybe it's for people that want to eat in bed."

"Hmm."

No luck. No cute little Disney Princess clock anywhere. I take a deep breath (WHAT is that smell?) and decide to ASK THE CASHIERS. *gulp* I'd rather do it than ask Fee to do it - she gets mucho attidudo and looks ready to knock someone out when they've got poor customer service skills. I'm always afraid some pissed off clerk is going to pull out a gun and shoot her (and me for being with her) when she acts like she expects them to do their job. I have to be feeling crappy or about to start my period, in order to fling attitude around.

I walk up. "Excuse me."

They ignore me.

"Excuse me."

They still ignore me. Tina gets impatient, pushing past me, leaning over the counter. "Hey!"

Conversation ceases. The clerk closest to us, sighs and turns her head. "What?"

"Do you have any Disney Princess alarm clocks?" Tina has NO smile on her face, or hiding in her eyes - she's all business don't-make-me-call-corporate-because-I-will-if-I-have-to-and get-both-your-lazy-asses-fired.

They sense this about her, I can tell. "No," the woman says shortly and goes back to talking.

Tina's eyes flare, but I whisper, "Never mind. They probably don't have one. I bought the other one a year ago, remember. Let's just get the toaster."

I'm really surprised my sister's fingers don't leave groove marks in the counter as I pull her away. Noah asks, "What is that stinky smell in this place?"

"Hush," I tell him. "That's rude."

He's puzzled - I can see it in his big blue eyes. Hey, if the store smells, it smells, right? "I don't know what that stinky smell is, baby boy."

Satisfied now, he spots a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle coloring book. "Hey! Can I see that book?" I hand it to him and he decides he wants it. No problem, it's a buck. Then he sees a horse head on a stick, you know - the kind we used to play with as kids, when there was no internet or gameboys? I didn't know they still made those. "Can I have that Mr. Horsey?" he asks.

Sure thing. I am constitutionally unable to deny my grandson anything. Ironic, because I have NO problem telling my children no. "We have to hurry and get out of here before Noah sees anymore toys," I tell Tina, who somehow has a toaster under her arm. I didn't even see her get it. Oh well, we head for checkout.

Tina takes the horse toy and holds it out to the cashier, who ignores it. She's still talking and I realize that stinky smell is coming from the man she's talking to - GROSS! I can see Tina grinding her jaw. "Will you please ring this up so I can give it back to my nephew?" Noah's sitting patiently in the cart, humming to himself, waiting for his toy back.

The clerk grabs the toy, runs it over the square bit of glass in front of her and hands it back. "Here."

Uh oh. Impending scene about to erupt in low end stank store.

I hand Noah to Tina. "Why don't you go get him in his car seat?"

She wants to argue, but I tilt my head down in Noah's direction. She reads the message in my eyes - no scenes in front of baby boy. "Okay, fine," she mutters and takes his hand, walking him out to the truck. I hear her talking to him about his new toy as the door closes behind them.

"Wow, she's got an attitude," the clerk remarks. The other worker bee and Mr. Stinky laugh.

"Not really," I squint down at the keypad as I sign my name. "She just doesn't have a high tolerance for laziness."

I smile and take my bags, walking out of a now silent store. I'm a bit crampy and realize - hey - I'm about to start my period. Who knew?

http://randomactsofunkindness.blogspot.com/

I stumbled across this - yeah, yeah I know I said I was going to make a grocery list, but I'm off today and feel lazy, so back up off a sistah, will ya?

OMG! This chicka-dee is a riot. I even added her to my sidebar links. Check her out. She's even got mommy humor. And what mom doesn't appreciate that? Or dad, I'm not sexist (unless we're talking cabana boys, then I am).

I also emailed her, to let her know I enjoyed her posts.

What?

That's not stalking, silly. *pause* Yeah, I know what the judge said about last time ... but ...

Fine! No more emails! I promise.

*grin*

I'm contemplating buying a new author.

*frowns*

That sounds a bit odd, doesn't it? "Yes, I maintain a stable of writers ... it's all the rage, don't you know?" Sheesh.

What I *mean* is, I'm thinking of buying a book by an author I've never read: Jim Butcher. Not like this is a HUGE financial undertaking, the oldest in the series is under four bucks, new - but it's the committing I'm wondering about. Please - we've been over this; yes, I'm odd. Let's move past it, shall we?

I was stuck in a secure location yesterday for three hours while babysitting someone logged into a high-level machine. I did have internet access, so I surfed, tuning out the conversations I wasn't supposed to listen to (amazing how easy that is). I read agent blogs, looked up author websites and had a generally relaxing afternoon. Pretty cool, as I got paid for it too, right?

Anyway, one author popped up over and over again: Jim Butcher. I don't recall hearing about him before, so I went to Amazon and read inside the beginning of book one. And NO! I DO NOT agree with Amazon's stance on publishing at the present time, but am more than willing to take advantage of them to peruse a few pages of a book. I'll BUY it from Barnes and Noble, thanks anyway Amazon, you greedy, bloated representation of corporate America strangling the Free Market - okay, sorry about that. I just popped myself upside the head and am better again.

Committing to a new author is something that requires a lot of thought. One doesn't just JUMP into it, especially having been burned a few times on the self-pubbed train. Too bad I don't always follow my own advice, right? But his writing, at first Amazon glance, looks solid and the premise is intriguing. So, I think I'm going to go for it. I'll let you know how it turns out.

In other news: why is there a spoon in my bathroom counter? Is looks weird and out of place ... I can only assume Jaime had it in the tub last night. She gets a lot of crockery in there, makes pretend cake and serves tea and what not. Her current favorite tub-concoction is making baby formula, because I've let her help me a make a few bottles for La Roona and now she's addicted to the idea. She even swiped one of the powder scoops out of an empty can, but as it was headed for the trash anyway, I didn't mind. The problem is, she uses the liquid soap for her 'formula' and went through two bottles of the stuff before I realized what she was doing. She's grumpy now, but using water.

Jer got another solo in the school concert coming up. I'm GOING to tape it - I HAVE to preserve his angelic sounding voice. Gawd, I get tears again, just thinking about last time, he sounded so precious.

I get the pleasure of Noah's company today, as Bob has to work. He's such a lovely child, but you all know this ...

I got the Sixth Sense (borrowed from Fee on VHS) to watch with the kids. They adore scary movies and that's a classic, in my book. Jaime's current passion is watching ghost shows. She knows how to record on the Tivo thingie and has a series recording set up for some history channel ghost series - several of them in fact. She's also decided that we have a ghost named Sam, that resides with us in the house. Personally, I think it's an out for her - "No, I didn't leave the milk on the counter, I think Sam did it." I hope I don't regret it, I don't remember a LOT of the movie, but don't recall any graphic violence - just scary chills and if it IS bad, I'll just turn it off and we can watch Top Chef instead. And no - this is NOT a lame attempt to lure Jaime back into my room for snuggles. How could you even THINK such a thing! *sniffs* I've got Noah for that, anyway.

I'm a little concerned about Jade - no, I'm a LOT concerned about Jade - she's lost ten more pounds and doesn't look well at all, to me. My current mission is to force feed her back up to a normal weight. I think being in her own place, she forgets to eat and she can't afford that.

Oh well, I've frittered away enough time. I have a grocery list to compose.

I was thinking yesterday about a short story I'd once read. I can't recall where I was when I read it, by that I mean at what stage of my life - preggers? Still in school? Last week? *shrug* Can't recall. Nor can I recall who wrote the story or what it was called - just the fact that it bothered me and has always stayed with me.

I'd be flattered, were I the author (though, to be honest - c'mon, remember my name, will ya?).

The story was about a man who could see two things when he looked at another person: the person, as he/she actually was and the person he/she had the potential to become, superimposed over that. It was a bit disconcerting, to say the least. He'd see the shy person and the 'could be' strong and confident - the obese and the 'could be' healthy - it was a cool concept, but bothered me because NOBODY the dude was seeing had reached their full potential.

Except this one girl - and he was immediately drawn to her because of it. Unfortunately for him - SHE also had the gift. And he wasn't at HIS full potential, so she wasn't interested.

End of story.

What prompted this recall? Well, I was leaving work yesterday (and let me caveat by saying that I work in a building where there's like 5000 people, so no one is going to read this and be devastated. I'm not mean, you know) and saw this woman leaving who bore an uncanny resemblance to a friend of mine (whom I believe is pissed at me for bailing on our last two lunch dates and is currently blowing me off - BUT that's another story and TOTALLY not my fault, I swear) - a startling resemblance, except for the fact that this woman was so unhealthy. I mean bad. Bad color, wheezing, very overweight ... she was dragging herself out of the building instead of walking happily, since hello! You're leaving work! She accidentally made eye contact with me and her eyes slid away, breaking the connection, as soon as she realized it. She appeared to be the polar opposite of my friend, who is the epitome of health and self-confidence.

It was a bit startling. The story flashed through my mind and I had to struggle not to run after this unknown woman and tell her - Look! It doesn't have to be like this! I've seen you the other way, too!

But of course I didn't. First of all, it would be terribly unkind - I didn't know the woman's story, there could be any number of reasons she wasn't in good health, none of them my business.

And anyway, as in the story - who knows what she thought when she looked at me? Perhaps she wasn't shy or self- conscious at all, perhaps she was embarrassed by what she perceived about me, in that one little bit of eye to eye.

Who knows?

Go enter my girl Katie's contest! I'm ONLY posting this (and not blathering muchly) so y'all will know it's important!

Free book from Barnes and Noble! Give her your best agent pick up lines! Read my amusing entry!

http://superwench83.livejournal.com/32452.html

Yesterday LC sent me a link to this:
www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp - that Meyers Brigg test. Being at work, I naturally dropped everything to click on the link and take the test.

Apparently, I'm the ITFJ type (Like Piers Anthony, HOLLAH!). I'm empathetic and concerned about others, able vent through creative writing and withdrawn from the world except for some close friends.

Pretty accurate.

Nic and lil fat momma stopped by last night, I gave Nic some frozen goodies I know I'll never make, TGIF appetizers and stuff like that. No one here will eat them except me and I'm usually too lazy to cook (er, HEAT UP) anything just for myself. I'd rather have a diet Mountain Dew, thanks anyway.

I can't do that linky-link thing (how sad is that for an IT person? See? I told you I was lazy ...) but Katie Lovett, aka Superwench83, is holding her first contest. Here's a link: http://superwench83.livejournal.com/

So far, no one has answered but me. Sure, while I'd love to win and think my entry was tebbly, tebbly witty, I'd like some competition. Not that I'm not STILL going to win (you know, cause of my witty answer), but in the interest of avoiding a federal investigation into the matter at some point in the future with lots of potential bad publicity for moi (and at the end of the day*, isn't that what it's all about? Me?) ... check it out and give me a run for my money!

I added a new friend to my blog. JADE! If you're actually reading this post, vice skimming it, call me and I'll walk you through the steps of adding a friend! That way, you can ADD YOUR MOTHER to your friends list! (Do you all see the stuff I have to put up with? Feel free to frown in my daughter's general direction) My new "friend**" is Linda Sue Park, a writer and avid reader. Her blog's not boring, either, but chatty, like my other "friends" and interesting to read.

You know, everyday, ALL day, little things happen and I think, Oh my gawd! I've totally got to write about this in my blog - and then promptly forget. I swear (and I REALLY mean it this time) I'm going to carry a pad of paper and pen around with me, so I can remember those things and post them here. They're all really interesting too, or at least I think so at the time ... Like that guy at work who tried to speed walk around me, so he could get inside first. I was walking into the building and hear this ominous clack of heels behind me. The doors are closer, closer - five feet and suddenly, this guy darts around me, JUST making in the door right before me. I stopped and looked at his back, wanting to yell, "What? Are we in grade school and no one told me??" How annoying. Now, see what you could have missed? *makes.note.to.self.about.notes.to.self*

Now, in other news - not news to those that know me - I SUCK at queries. I just want to hand someone my manuscript and say, "I totally suck at writing a two to three sentence breakdown of the book that will entice and captivate you and that fact is not reflective of my writing. So, will you just read a couple of chapters and see if it grabs you?" *sigh*

I'm trying to do little blurbs for Summer's End, my YA about the kid that falls into another land through a poster. See what I mean? I'm re-reading that line and I *know* what the damned book's about and *I* think it sounds like a yawn (it's not, btw, but whatev)

Here's my two tries so far:

First one (totally sucko, I realize): "Summer's End tells the story of fourteen year old John Summers and his brother Cory, who get free tickets from school to go the carnival that has just arrived in town.

With their father dying slowly from cancer and their mother frazzled from working too much, going to the carnival seems to the boys like a chance to escape for a while.

A visit to watch the carnival set up is the beginning of the boy's real trouble, though. Unbeknownst to John, Cory steals the carnival owner's top hat and wearing it flings the boy into another land where carnivals are a way of life and forests that talk are populated with strange creatures.

Now John has to find a way to save his brother and the land that struggles against an evil force bent on destroying it, and John if he stands in the way."

Try two: "John Summers used to look forward to growing up, thinking that adults had it easy - no rules, no more school - it had to be great, right? But
the closer the doorway to adulthood draws, the more clearly John is able to understand being a grown up isn't everything he'd thought it would be. John's father is dying from cancer, his mother works too many hours and John has had to assume the role of caretaker for Cory, John's younger brother. What's to look forward to? Nothing, it seems.

Nothing, that is, until the carnival comes to town, bringing with it the lure of magic and a chance to forget responsibility, even if just for an evening. John looks forward to having some fun, until he gets to the carnival and meets the mysterious Dark Man, owner of dead eyes and a hat he claims contains secrets. When Cory covets, then steals the hat, the boy is unwittingly flung into another land - the Land Of Seasons and John is forced to follow, in order to bring his brother home.

Once there, John realizes the Land holds more than just his wayward brother, it may also hold the key to how to make John's father better again."

They both suck, I know. I'm just going to stop thinking about it for now, before I attempt something another of my "friends" once considered, impaling myself on a paper clip. Hey, it could happen!

Why all this query stress? Well, yesterday, it occurred to me that I had no idea what the theme was in Sin Eaters. What was the problem that needed to be resolved? Why did people want to read it? So, I called Fee.

"Why do you like to read my book?"

"Huh?"

"What makes you keep hounding me for more? What do you want to know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know what my theme is!! So just answer the questions!"

"Oh, ok-ay ... Well, I keep reading it because I want to know what happens next."

I sigh, feeling a little frustrated. "But, like - when you gave it to your mother in law, what did you say?"

"Oh yeah! I see what you mean. Do you know, I gave her the first chapter and she called me and talked about it for ten minutes?"

"Yeah?" I get sidetracked for a minute and ask her to repeat everything she can recall. Then, "So how did you describe it?"

"Well, this kid, teenager - is a Sin Eater, like his father and grandfather and he stays with a person while they die and takes their sins into his own body so they can get into heaven. He lives them - the sins, I mean."

"But what made you keep reading?" I prompt.

"Well, it was good! I wanted to know what had happened with those people, and then there was that whole key thing - I wanted to know what that went to and NOW, I want to know how they are going to defeat the bad guy."

I sigh again, this time in relief. "Okay. Thanks." I hang up and think, Okay. I *do* have a theme. I'm just noid.

Now, let me write and finish this sucker.


*I detest that phrase, BTW, and want to vomit everytime I read/hear it. I really do. Excuse me, I need to go hurl now, as a matter of fact.

**If only it were that easy to make friends in real life. I could see someone that looked interesting, sidle up to them and eavesdrop for awhile, decide they were indeed friend-worthy, and click a button. Sudden friend! Instead, my potential friends have often mistaken me for a stalker, causing some unfortunate confusion involving Johnny Law. Hey! I've only got a few days left on my house arrest and have agreed to never contact my last 'friend', so back off and stop judging me!