30 June 2006

Washington: The Pyro State

Welcome to Fourth of July in the Pyro State....a little place we like to call Washington State. The land of Starbucks, possibly Big Foot, and pyros.

The Fourth has been one of my favorite holidays. There is nothing like a day at the lake, fried chicken and cold sandwich picnics. Top that off with apple pie dessert and homemade ice cream w/ a snuggle from your main squeeze?

The outcome is a yummy and lazy holiday with reenactments of "Stupid People Gone Wild: 4th of July Edition" Our neighbors have a 'few' people over to celebrate in our typically serene neighborhood. I've never seen so many adult men eagerly waiting around to blow stuff up. Just don't forget to water the lawn with your roof and put the General Lee in the garage.

One of my favorite parts of the Fourth is the Velvet Elvis culture. Every Fourth of July, these flag-flying tent displays adorn every other major intersection. And right next to them is the carnie gone Velvet Elvis carpet guy. He's every. where. and he wants to give you a velvet tapestry with every $100 fireworks purchase. I bet Bill Gates has a velvet Elvis in his living room. So classy.

But really, this is their time to shine. Why? Because Washington has the best fireworks. It's no secret. Even Oregonians know this. They drive up here with cash in their clenched fists like some pyro crackhead, dreaming about how they can out-do the neighbor's fireworks display, Griswold style. The catch is not to get caught by the fire Marshall when you burn down your neighbor's utility shed.

That was a TUFF Shed? I don't think so.

Up here, anyone can shoot off these Disneyland type mortars that come complete with launch tube. A great number of Washingtonians have launch displays from the comfort of their own bottle-rocket-littered yards. Add beer and stupidity and you have a nice house bonfire in front of the inlaws. Woohoo!

Last year the neighbors filled up the animal shelter by setting off M80s every night for a week. Each time they'd incur the wrath of every car alarm in a 4 block radius. I however, wanted to run them over with my van when I was jolted out of bed at 3am.

Now, on to sparklers. I'm weird about sparklers. Let's take a minute and think about it. These are a blistering, steel-warping 1800 degrees. Do YOU give your kids hot burning things and say, "Go play"? Well, Fourth of July a lot of parents do.

You smile down on the kids' excited faces and willingly hand over sparklers to your gleeful children. Your kids then turn around and and wave these white hot pokers in each other's faces, like Darth Vader's going out of style.

Cause that's safe.

I may be a stick in the mud at the pyrotecnics here in Washington but Independence Day is more than that. It's family. It's freedom. It's celebrating our hearing and both thumbs. Enjoy the holiday and time with your family. Just make sure you save some apple pie for the nurse in the ER.

~Bee is a closet pyro

28 June 2006

Dear Santa

I would really like this car.

Not crazy about the matching track suit but the car? Oh, I want one! Although I do regularly match my car paint to coordinate with my outfit.

Now available in the US: The Smart Car.

15,000.00 price tag gets you 64 miles a gallon in the city.

Smart Car on Fickr courtesy of Mermanic
under a BY-NC-ND 2.0 license

Or maybe we could just get his and hers....

His and Her Smart Cars on Flickr courtesy of Monceau
under a BY-NC-SA 2.0 license

26 June 2006

Chew On This

Do you ever bite off more than you can chew?

I manage to maneuver myself to a position of over-extension to then be shot down by the realization that I am not Wonder Woman.

She used to visit my blog, so that should be obvious we are not the same person. I would still love to master the "Spin". You know, the change your outfit spin that Wonder Woman does? When Mr Coffee comes home to my sweaty-betty self all I'll have to do before he sees me in sweats and no makeup.

Wonder Woman spin!

I would morph into a freshly-showered self, donning a crisp linen outfit, perfectly coiffed hair, and makeup complete with tweezed chin hairs. Chin hairs take an extra spin.

Aside from the norm of raising four cherub-faced children with Mr. Coffee, I am challenged with a tidal wave of home ownership responsibilities and then drowned by the schedule and drama I have put myself in. Here we go:

I have been corresponding with my college of choice to complete my schooling in my budding career of Medical Transcription. I set a crazy pace of 6 months to finish, in which I have failed miserably. Bottom line is online courses suck. I beat myself over the head that I still cannot remember if otorhinolaryngologist has two "t"s or three. That's an Ear, Nose and Throat Doc or as I like to think of it, "Beer Nose and Broke"

After my proud proclamation that I would take them to the park regularly for exercise and fresh air, my three year old comes down with Fifth's Disease. Sunlight aggravates this particular virus and extends the life of the rash that will appear all over her extremities. Have no fear, it runs it's course in a month. In the meantime, she needs to stay out of the sun in this 100+ degree heat. Easier said than done.

I have been informed recently that I am over qualified to flip burgers while asking if you "need fries with that". Maybe I should have smoked crack and not graduated from high school. It's apparently the only way I'll get employed.

In the meantime, in my non-crack smoking ways, I am willing to bag groceries, serve coffee, clean houses...anything part-time to subsidize our current predicament of cash flow. Why do employers not want someone who is willing to show up on time, clean AND sober, work hard during work hours, and actually give quality customer service.

Just give me the dang job!

Mr. Coffee's Job:
Two years of self-employment in construction and we were to go out with a big bang finishing with a large job to put us ahead. Instead, someone wants their deposit back, another won't sign the contract, or keep the verbal one cutting down the profit by 3/4. This has put us in a predicament. Add four weeks of rain and you are pretty much selling your organs on ebay to keep the lights on. Mr Coffee landed a job that is officially pushed off for two weeks due to bureaucratic B.S. Mr Coffee has work now, but we have to wait for the new pay period. I never thought I'd get tired of Top Ramen but we will make it. I think.

Now with the possibility of foreclosure in the horizon we are forced to look at our options and will be selling the house to get the equity we have built up over the last 4 years. I now feel guilty I spent $ on myself when things looked like they would be hunky dory. My $40 shopping spree I had with Doozer on her last trip out here? I just hope I can still use the sea salt scrub while wearing my new capris in a van down by the river.

New House:
It's really a good thing that we are moving in many aspects. We can use the $$ to pay off an old personal loan from a gracious relative. We can get some peace with home repairs. Our house will be larger, carpeted, hopefully a modern kitchen (my dark wood cupboards are 30 years old) and more than one bathroom for 6 people. There is a bright side, you just have to look for it.

Mr. Coffee and I need to find a church. Finding a place of worship is important to Mr Coffee and I so keep us in your prayers.

I have requested a break from my family. It's really a good thing. Distance doesn't mean ignoring the issues, but it does give a much better perspective about relationship and why we do the things we do. My personal space means more to me than the world right now (see above for more pressing issues).

I am not discontinuing my blogging, but with packing, selling the house, raising kids, getting a new place, finding a church and school, I am virtually overwhelmed. I might have a short snippet for posts but I'll keep away from the book-ish ones such as this.

So, that is what has been going on with me.

22 June 2006


I have seen these sign generators as church signs, some as Einstein, some as a Something for Dummies Book.

I found this page over at Kaboodle which had them all. They are lots of fun.

(If you put one on your blog, please leave me your link in the comments! I would love to see it.)

19 June 2006

aircraft funnies

If I remember right, these are stories from my Grandpa's military buddies. My Grandpa happens to be a retired Sergeant Major in the Army so being a career military man he can tell some amazing stories....here are a few that are pretty funny passed on to me by my dad about a year ago:

In his book, Sled Driver, SR-71 Blackbird pilot Brian Shul writes: "I'll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as Walt (my back-seater) and I were screaming across Southern California 13 miles high. We were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we entered Los Angeles airspace. Though they didn't really control us, they did
monitor our movement across their scope.

I heard a Cessna ask for a readout of its ground speed. '90 knots,' Center replied.

"Moments later, a Twin Beech required the same. '120 knots,' Center answered.

"We weren't the only ones proud of our ground speed that day as almost instantly an F-18 smugly transmitted, 'Ah, Center, Dusty 52 requests ground speed readout.' "There was a slight pause, then the response, '525 knots on the ground, Dusty.'

"As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I heard a familiar click of a radio transmission coming from my back-seater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a real crew, for we were both thinking in unison. 'Center, Aspen 20, you got a ground speed readout for us?' "There was a longer than normal pause .... 'Aspen, I show
1,742 knots.'

"No further inquiries were heard on that frequency."

In another famous SR-71 story, Los Angeles Center reported receiving a request for clearance to FL 60 (60,000ft). The incredulous controller, with some disdain in his voice, asked, "How do you plan to get up to 60,000 feet?"

The pilot (obviously a sled driver), responded, "We don't plan to go up to it. We plan to go down to it." He was cleared.

The pilot was sitting in his seat and pulled out a .38 revolver. He placed it on top of the instrument panel, and then asked the navigator, "Do you know what I use this for?"

The navigator replied timidly, "No, what's it for?"

The pilot responded, "I use this on navigators who get me lost!"

The navigator proceeded to pull out a .45 and place it on his chart table.

The pilot asked, "What's that for?"

"To be honest sir," the navigator replied, "I'll know we're lost before you will."


Tower: "Delta 351, you have traffic at 10 o'clock, 6 miles!"

Delta 351: "Give us another hint! We have digital watches!"


One day the pilot of a Cherokee 180 was told by the tower to hold short of the runway while a MD80 landed. The MD80 landed, rolled out, turned around, and taxied back past the Cherokee. Some quick-witted comedian in the MD80 crew got on the radio and said, "What a cute little plane. Did you make it all by yourself?"

Our hero, the Cherokee pilot, not about to let the insult go by, came back with: "I made it out of MD80 parts. Another landing like that and I'll have enough parts for another one."


There's a story about the military pilot calling for a priority landing because his single-engine jet fighter was running a bit peaked.

Air Traffic Control told the fighter jock that he was number two behind a B-52 that had one engine shut down.

"Ah," the pilot remarked, "the dreaded seven-engine approach."


A student became lost during a solo cross-country flight. While attempting to locate the aircraft on radar, ATC asked, "What was your last known position?"

Student: "When I was number one for takeoff."


Taxiing down the tarmac, the 757 abruptly stopped, turned around and returned to the gate. After an hour-long wait, it finally took off.

A concerned passenger asked the flight attendant, "What was the problem?"

"The pilot was bothered by a noise he heard in the engine," explained the flight attendant, "And it took us a while to find a new pilot."


"Flight 2341, for noise abatement turn right 45 degrees."

"But Center, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?"

"Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?"

16 June 2006

Say What?

*******Back to our regularly scheduled programing.*******

Does Angel Hair Pasta come from Noodle Angels? ~ –Max, age 6

Max, age 5, comments after seeing a dozen or so teenage girls run by us, apparently training for High School track, "Look at all the females!"

"That '‘craps'’ me up!" ~– Jaina, age 4

After being repeatedly sniffed by my sister-in-law's dog, Jaina states emphatically, "“NO ROSIE! Quit sniffin' my butt! There'’s nothing good in there!"

With the neighbor'’s BBQ wafting through the house, Jaina comes in from the back yard asking what smelled like BBQ. After seeing the TV on and showing a cooking program about BBQ, she quickly states, "“Oh, that'’s why I smell barbeque!"

Zus stated one day, very excited, "When I grow up I'm gonna marry "the neighbor girl". I'm gonna have 27 kids and a dog named Stink."

I asked a bit puzzled with a big grin (27 kids, aye, ya, aye!) , "A dog named Stink? Why would you call him Stink?"

Zus looks at me matter-of-fact, "Cause he would stink out".

"Mama, I need fuddins"
It took me sometime to realize my 2 year-old wanted his shoes.
Because when I would put them on his feet I would say,
"Put your foot in."

Max, age 7: After driving through the little coffee place I endearingly call The Cleavage Barrista Hut, Max says rather red-faced:
"Momma, her b00b crack was showing"

Lolo, age 2½:
Running excitedly through the X-Box isle at Target, "A$$ BOX! A$$ BOX"

15 June 2006

Open futures

I thank you for all who gave me advice to ponder, words of encouragement and a plethora of experiences. I am always amazed at the support of bloggers and those new friends I have begun to develop life-long friendships. I am very thankful and blessed.

I have had the run of yuck these last couple months with jobs, school, family, finances. I have always at least attempted to expose the bright side, even the humorous side when it was seemingly non-existent. I see now the light at the end of the tunnel isn't a ravenous bear lighting a cook stove. It's the end of the tunnel streaming with light, punctuated with an open road ahead.

Last night, I had a dream that really symbolized what was happening in my life. It was almost as if God was saying that it was good for me to let go and go forward in life.

I typically have many dreams. Probably three to four times a week. Some some life-changing, some nightmares and some just plain old weird or that mean nothing. I dream in vivid color and have been told that is unusual. Feel free to chime in about the dream.

Remember though even Freud said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar".

In my dream I found myself as I am now, 30+, an adult woman without Mr. Coffee and the kids. I was talking with my dad, as my sisters and my step-mom busied themselves nearby. They were eagerly packing their belongings in a huge truck as I argued that I wasn't leaving to go anywhere. They looked at each other quizzically with wrinkled noses at my protests. I was not as excited about this new house. I was told we were all going to live in it. In fact, 'I was going to love it'.

It was a house I lived in when I was young, so it was familiar to me, but not. The house was located on a dark, seedy side of a town, like Gotham and the outside looked decrepit and old. I knew that it was disgusting inside, dark and damp with no sunlight or fresh air. I suddenly found myself inside the house, protesting that I hated the place. It was foul smelling and reeked of moldy carpet.

"I'm not living here! This place is horrible.....disgusting...... and dark. What are you thinking?", I plead with my father.

The place was a nightmare.

Water sat in stagnant pools in the corners of the rooms completely covering the old tapestry-like carpet. Walls grey were they once were white. My eyes adjusted to see my father's eager face smiling, stealing a glance at my proud and beaming mother in a knowing kind of way. I walked through the rooms, staring at the tattered, thick curtains, although no light came in; the rooms staying a dark-greyish kind of green. Thin wallpaper peeled to the point where it would flutter to the ground from me simply walking by. The house was a shadow of what it once was. Lavish. Ornate. All gone.

I couldn't believe they wanted me to live there with them. It made me upset. Angry. I stood with my cell phone in hand and started for the door, "NO! I cannot and will not live here". I couldn't make a call to Mr Coffee for help.

My father got angry and started to block my way. My step-mom protested.

"You have to. You have no other choice", they both chimed.

My sisters looked at me as if I was crazy. Their faces held the question of "Why not? Isn't this lovely?".

I darted through the house looking for an exit. I was panicked. My eyes searched the room for escape. I noticed a loose floorboard in a closet and rushed toward it knowing I could get out. I found myself then squeezing into a tiny tube that led to the outside. I pushed my way through it and easily popped out to the outside. I looked back. I had come out what was really just a large black side door and not a small tube as I had seen it.

I started walking slowly at first. Then I quickened my pace while buildings and the regular bussle and afternoon fare of a busy downtown Portland popped out in all it's wonderful charm. The blur began to focus from a fog at first, then very clearly. Tall apartments, shops, the downtown scene settled my spirit and I started walking with confidence. Head held high. Happy even. I found my usual Starbucks Coffee and got in line to order. I was just thankful that I was back in 'normal'.

Weird, huh?

Photo credit: Tunnel3 by Duncan
copyright CC: BY-NC 2.0

14 June 2006

closed chapters

I rarely post about my extended family just because I want my blog to be cheery.

Wheee. Cheery!

It's easy to Pollyanna through the posts and as far as my blog peeps know, it's all roses here. Well, I do have a good life and it's taken some resolve to realize that my siblings and parents are absent because they want to be.

I have always been outspoken about what other's should do with their lives, or liberal with the advice. It's only been in the last several months that I have discovered that

1) I should always be asked prior to giving advice and

2) I can state my mind but other people won't always do what I recommend and

3) they don't have to follow it and that is OKAY. In fact, the best thing I've heard about advice is that you don't have to take it.

I've stepped over the line recently giving my unwanted opinion without grace and had to apologize to my sisters. I've learned when I take responsibility for what they do, I'm just sticking my neck out to be hacked off. I can't and won't take responsibility for anyone but me and my kids. I apologized. again and again. I gave it time, but you can't make someone forgive you or converse with you. I have too much stress to emotionally carry my siblings who coincidentally resent it anyway.

I am the oldest. Can you tell?

In the past, I was stupid enough to respond when family comes to me, wanting advice, to complain about whatever or sucking me into their decisions. I attribute my poor judgment to a sheltered upbringing and lack of good social skills and communication. It's been a lesson in what *not to do* when family asks for your opinion. I relate it to me releasing a fire-breathing dragon and then wondering why I am being burned alive. Duh.

I have a strong sense of family but certainly cannot make someone do what they don't want to do.

I will not set myself up for failure to be burned down by the proverbial dragon. No more. I'm done with that chapter in my life. Now? Mr. Coffee and my kids are my most important. I focus on them. I need to, want to, and have to.

11 June 2006

Brand That Thing

My daughter was looking for the lotion the other day and asked me, "Mom, where is the Aveeno". It struck me funny because it's just lotion, but advertising and such has penetrated her young mind. It's Aveeno to her.

How many other products have we infused into pop culture by the brand name instead of the actual item name? This got me thinking and I can only name a few, but it's a fun thinking game.

  • Vaseline = petroleum jelly
  • Kleenex = facial tissue
  • Walkman = portable radio
  • Pop Tarts = toaster pastries
  • Jell-o = gelatin
  • Xerox = copy
  • Band-Aid = any bandage
  • Play Doh = any moldable stuff for kids
  • Windex=glass cleaner, any that's blue
  • Lysol=air freshener spray
  • Styrofoam = polystyrene foam
  • iPod = personal MP3 player
  • Coke = soft drink (Southern)
  • Kodak = camera (archaic)
  • Velcro = hook-and-loop fastener
  • Superglue = cyanoacrylate
  • kotex
  • levi's
  • Rollerblade = Inline skates
  • Ski-Doo = Snowmobile
  • Google = Search Engine
  • Popsicle = frozen colored and flavored sugar water on a stick
  • Kool-Aid = UN-frozen colored and flavored sugar water
  • Slurpy = whipped frozen colored and flavored sugar water
  • Pampers = Diapers
  • Q-Tip = Cotton swabs

10 June 2006

Open Letter To My Former Bank

It's said, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".

I resemble that.

Read on:

Dear US Bank,

I had been a customer of US Bank for almost 10 years. I have had multiple accounts with you and yet, I have found that you indeed do not care to keep me as your customer. Rather, fattening your wallets with your shares and capital gains are all that you have cared about. Your actions have spoken loud and clear. Customer loyalty and service are no longer important.

My family of six is what you would call the working poor and what you call the average customer. My husband makes approximately $40K a year, last year being an exception having made about half of that with self-employment in construction. I stay home and feed my family budgeted meals and clip coupons. Every bit helps.

This averages, less taxes, approx 3k a month run through our checking account. In this we still keep a positive balance. We also had at one time two children savings accounts, a line of credit and also years ago, a second mortgage in which we never defaulted. I will no longer suffer for my loyalty and am closing my accounts for good.

I was informed in April 2006 that the $42 check order I made the prior month was going to cost me. I purchase four boxes at a time from an on-line vendor that is affordable, well established and that I have used for years. Your policy now states that if your check reading machine jams with my checks, not purchased from your exorbitantly expensive check-printing company, I will be charged a fee for your poor machinery. I wonder how that fits into your 5 star service, passing me the cost of your lack of mechanical soundness.

I am a rare bird that actually reads your disclosures stating that you close business day at 2pm (which I was told by a manager at your Grand Junction, Colorado - Clifton Branch that it's really 3pm). Obviously then, you only adhere to the parts of the disclosure that appeal to you or that make you money.

Your available funds policy is also confusing even for me, a prior Operations Manager and Sr. Bank Customer Service Rep. You insist on drawing funds, not by date or time, but solely on the merits of which transaction is largest. I use my card and if my withheld funds (charged but not processed through my account) are greater than my balance then I get a $35 fee. Having worked in banking I can attest to the fact that less than 10% of people actually balance their checkbook. Most go by their balance, which you supply incorrectly. If you are dinging me for overdrafts, you can tell me my actual balance.

Calling the toll-free number in which you offer checking information, the balance given is not what is always my balance depending on the day. Online, my statement showed in April of 2006, overdraft fees pulling on a balance that cover the checks. This is horrible software that is misleading and wrong, giving erroneous information about the account.

  1. Account Balance $80.00
  2. Outstanding charges $50 (just a click or two away to discover what has affected the account but not posted to the account)
  3. Check needing to clear $60

Regardless of what my $80 balance says, you will return the check to the vendor and charge me a fee of $35.

My balance is now $45, not enough to cover the $50 charge.

You proceed to take out another $35. I'm now $70 lighter and in the hole. You add little $2 and 3$ charges at $35 a pop and you have hundreds of dollars over an overlooked transaction. Such as what happened to me.

If I don't hear from you within five days of negative activity, regardless of the week and a half it takes to get any notice mail or otherwise, I'm charged $7 a day until I get the balance back to a positive one. Wait. Is that a positive actual balance or available balance?

This process of yours, with a $42 admitted error of mine, cost me $665 dollars in April of 2006.

$665 is more than half my mortgage payment and put us in a bad spot coming out of our construction downtime in the winter. You agreed to reverse three of charges after I talked in length to four employees and finally a District Manager's Assistant. I was denied the mailing address to your District Manager, just given a phone number of his assistant. How nice to know I can reach the Powers that Be after almost 10 years of loyalty and you holding half a dozen lucrative accounts of mine.

I do not typically overdraw my account and can count every occurrence on one hand, one being bank error. I would be able to avoid confusion, having funds taken out immediately by using my pin number but you have a $.25 fee for doing so. It's greedy policy to charge me to use my own money that you are earning interest on.

It is said that every customer with a bad experience shares it with 20 people. Out of those 20 people, 5 people tell 3 more. Let's add this up shall we?

From my word of mouth, my experience with US Bank has now traveled to 28 people.

Consider approximately ¾ of those people take my word and don't bank at US Bank due to my little story of your stellar policy. We now have 21 people who's business you will lose. Feasibly, half of those would actually boycott US Bank due to horrible policy. So, let's see how this will effect your institution.

If we use the median income and median cost of housing for 2004, 10 people should cost you thus:

  • Median Income (stats from 2004 which should be higher in 2005 but lets just roll with it)
44,000.00 per household x 10 = 440,000 a year in deposits

  • Median Housing Cost (again from 2004)
221,000.00 to purchase a home with a loan of $221,000.00 say, on 7.5% over 30 years x 10 people means $5,562,936.00

Total this up and my $665 complaint then cost you a grand total of $6,002,936.00.

This doesn't even touch savings, CD's, stock, student loans, IRAs, and all those bank fees you will undoubtedly lose out on...etc....

Now if that hasn't gotten your attention, this might. I have a blog and the little counter people tell me I have had approximately 8,000 hits on my blog since December. That's roughly 1,300 hits a month that will read your exploits. I just hope it was worth well over six million dollars.


A Former Stockholder/Customer Now Moved to A Refreshingly Honest Bank

07 June 2006

Oh that's SAD

WARNING: No drinking, eating while reading this post. Going to the bathroom is also a recommended precursor. Okay, maybe I'm really not that funny, but I warned you.

Whenever I make it down to WalMart, for luxuries like toilet paper, soap and diapers, I come across the phenomena I like to call Selective Associate Disappearance.

Selective Associate Disappearance aka S.A.D.:
To search in vain for one, single, live, warm body when you require some assistance to find the store completely void of employees. (See WalMart)

For example, it is S.A.D when I am unable to find someone to help me with the mondo box of wipes that teeters precariously out of reach up on the top shelf.

It's S.A.D. when I want to put something on layaway like a brown pant suit and can't get someone to help me.

It's even more S.A.D. if I purchase something large like a 20 foot artificial Christmas tree. Well, that's sad and S.A.D., because I would be missing out on so much fun.

These disappearing employees must be over on the other side of the store re-stocking isles with merchandise from the Great Wall. This Great Wall is an enormous row of goods that successfully cuts you off from the cashiers..basically forever. It divides the place in half and you end up dragging kids with cart, ramming and backing out of every possible tiny exit with my cart attempting to be freed.

No can do.

I would then be the equivalent of 10 blocks away, out the automotive door, passing by employees who looking guilty. Perhaps for racing customer cars behind the store. Who knows?
I roll past the only working employee, who is roaching tires on a Subaru Outback. I start to get dizzy from oil fumes while my kids are hollering for me to open the 5 gallon bucket of fish crackers.

I succeed in navigating successfully around the end of the Great Wall, back to civilization. It's then I discover that I need help finding something like Jock Itch creme.....um, I mean Athlete's Foot creme.

S.A.D. just happens.

Or perhaps you would run into someone like this guy, who is Oh. So. Eager. to help. I can thank egorgry over at flickr.com for capturing this Employee of the Month Kodak moment (photo used with permission).

WalMart is an equal opportunity employer. I'll give them that. Darth even has his own name tag. How proud were HIS parents?

Anyway, I reluctantly start inquiring. I explain to the 5th sales associate 'that doesn't work in that department' that I'm looking for Jock Itch creme. I am pretty much mortified. I'd rather leave empty-handed before the boys clad in Wally-World blue spontaneously burst into hysterics. They lamely attempt to hide their suppressed laughter over my quest for personal vendibles.

Employee of the Month, I don't think so.

Or Maybe they were just laughing at my brown pant suit on layaway?

06 June 2006

happiness is

a three year old "Ellie" that loves opera
*Click to enlarge*

yard work with the kids
*Click to enlarge*

cherry blossoms and a blue sky......
*Click to enlarge*

and a picture to make you laugh
(I don't know who took this).....
*Click to enlarge*

"Help me - I am a disabled Clone War Vet.
Need $$$ to build Deth Star"

04 June 2006

I'm not dead....

I'm just busy.......be back to post by Tuesday night. Until then, I give you some Steven Wright humor.

He makes me laugh.


Everywhere is in walking distance if you have the time.

Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before.

Lots of comedians have people they try to mimic. I mimic my shadow.

I was once walking through the forest alone. A tree fell right in front of me-- and I didn't hear it.

He asked me if I knew what time it was. I said, "Yes, but not right now."

I put tape on the mirrors in my house so I don't accidentally walk through into another dimension.

I've been doing a lot of abstract painting lately, extremely abstract. No brush, no paint, no canvas, I just think about it.

My watch is three hours fast, and I can't fix it. So I'm going to move to New York.

I like to reminisce with people I don't know.

I like to skate on the other side of the ice.

If you can't hear me, it's because I'm in parentheses.

Four years ago... No, it was yesterday. Today I... No, that wasn't me. Sometimes I... No, I don't.

Is it weird in here, or is it just me?

A friend of mine once sent me a post card with a picture of the entire planet Earth taken from space. On the back it said, "Wish you were here."

Every so often, I like to stick my head out the window, look up, and smile for a satellite picture.

Sorry, my mind was wandering. One time my mind went all the way to Venus on mail order and I couldn't pay for it.

It's a small world, but I wouldn't want to have to paint it.

Cross country skiing is great if you live in a small country.

You can't have everything. Where would you put it?

I have the world's largest collection of seashells. I keep it on all the beaches of the world... Perhaps you've seen it.

It's a good thing we have gravity, or else when birds died they'd just stay right up there. Hunters would be all confused.

When I die, I'm leaving my body to science fiction.

I went to the bank and asked to borrow a cup of money. They said, "What for?" I said, "I'm going to buy some sugar."

I saw a bank that said "24 Hour Banking", but I don't have that much time.

One time I went to a museum where all the work in the museum had been done by children. They had all the paintings up on refrigerators.