Wednesday, February 27, 2008

For the Mommas and Mommas To Be

Okay, sometimes we just come across something that really makes us laugh. Tonight, I came across about 5 different things, so it was a good night for me. This one really took the cake though:

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

You Are Getting Veeeeery Sleepy!

There have been times in my life when I have been seriously sleep deprived and then when I do fall asleep, there isn't a thing on this earth that could wake me. I've slept through birthday parties, I've had conversations with roommates in my sleep that I can't recall later, and I've even fallen asleep at the keyboard and started typing a dream I was having. However, I usually know when these situations are coming because days with no sleep precede them. I thought I was doing pretty good with my 6-7 hours a night until I woke up this morning and realized that I woke up on my own, with no alarm (mark this on your calendar people!), and the sun was shining through my bedroom window. I lay there for a second and thought to myself, "Huh, the sun is up but my alarm didn't go off yet." (it usually goes off when it is still dark out) Then I looked at my alarm clock and it said 9:19. I just stared at it and thought over and over, "9:19...9:19...9:19" Now, for all of you regular working people out there, this isn't really oversleeping. For me, by 9:19, I have already seen two classes and am in the middle of reading with a small group of first graders. Okay, so here I was, "9:19...that can't be right...why didn't anyone call me to see where I was? Hasn't anyone missed me yet? Maybe I should call the school and just say that I'm sick...then I could take the whole day off. Wait! 9:19! That means that I overslept for two and a half hours! How on earth am I going to explain this?"

Okay, sidenote: When I was in high school, I used to wake up in the middle of the night and see that it was 3:15am or some outrageous hour like that and for some strange reason, I was terrified that it wasn't true. So then I would proceed to get up and walk around the house and check at least 3 other clocks to make sure that my alarm clock showed the correct time and to reassure myself that I had not inadvertently reset the time in my sleep. It took me a little while to get over the "My Alarm Clock Is Lying To Me" phase, but I did and now my alarm clock and I are well adjusted to each other.

So as I am laying in bed trying to grasp on to the fact that I should be a fourth of the way through my day by now, I grab my phone and flip it open to look at the time. It says 7:19. "Now that's more like it!" Is this enough for me? No. In my groggy state, it is completely rational to me that I would be more likely to reset the time on my phone in my sleep than to reset the time on my alarm clock in my sleep. I don't even know how to reset the time on my phone when I am fully awake! So, I have to get up and check the time on 2 more clocks just to make sure that my phone isn't lying to me, because why would my dear sweet alarm clock lie to me? It's done nothing but tell me the truth over the past 10 years! Well, that and wake me up every morning for which it gets a sound beating (which is a whole other story in and of itself). Hmmm...maybe it's retaliating.

Anyways, so I got ready and sped off to work and made it there by 8:01. Phew! But now, I need to go have a little talk with my alarm clock...

Friday, February 22, 2008

Deep Thoughts by Rhia Jean

Okay, so maybe they aren't really DEEP thoughts, they are more like RANDOM thoughts. So here are a few things that I have been contemplating blogging on but the thought doesn't go beyond one sentence. If there are any of these that you feel need to be expanded on, please let me know and I will attempt a full-on blog. :)

I think seat warmers were inspired of God.

Nothing helps to heal a broken heart like a nice big juicy steak...or a hamburger...or just red meat in general...except for pot roast...that might induce it...okay, just steaks and burgers.

It is completely unnecessary to come to a full stop when you are trying to turn a corner. In fact, it's in my top 10 list of the most annoying things.

Nutty bars should be a food group.

If I take something to a potluck, I try to take it in a disposable dish. That way when it is time to go, I don't have to go back and see that no one has eaten any of my food.

Sometimes I live in denial.

My BFF is the best BFF and there ain't no other BFF like my BFF!

I LOVE the flash forwards on Lost because it is like I get to read the last page first (which is how I read books:)

Girls, when you have to go to Auto Zone or Discount Tire or any auto mechanic shop, I have found that the best way to keep from getting duped is pretending like it is the single most annoying thing you have had to do in 20 years and the person helping you is an idiot. See, guys pick up on these clues and if you send the vibe that you are NOT to be messed with, they most likely will not even attempt it.

Stop signs should be optional when there are no other cars around.

Why does my cat meow to the back of the chair? Does she think it will answer? Is she trying to make me jealous of the chair?

For some games, cheating is not's a merely another strategy to win.

Sometimes I purposely set myself up for disappointment by checking my e-mail 4 to 5 times a day.

Christmas time is the only time that we purposely stress ourselves out under the guise of peace and joy.

Okay, that is all I have for now. I will end with one of my favorite Arrested Development quotes:

Michael (to his son George Michael): What is the one thing that should always come before everything else?

George Michael: Breakfast?

Michael: Family.

George Michael: Oh, right family. Yeah.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

It's The Crazy Cat Lady!

Yeah, that's me. I've tried to deny it for years, but tonight I think it finally came true. I have two cats and to protect their identity, we'll call them Satan and Psycho. Friends who know me and my cats will know exactly which one is which. This evening's blog is about Psycho mainly. She likes to do things that I do. For instance, while I am sitting at the computer, she often gets in my lap and stares at the screen like it is really interesting to her. She even tried to type on the keyboard today.

So tonight, I was cleaning up from last night's "half cleaning the apartment" episode and had the back door open. Psycho constantly likes to try to escape. Any time a door is open, she thinks she's going to go it on her own and live the life she was always meant to live, free and wild, with the wind in her face, chasing little critters and big dogs that are no match for her spry young body and sharp mind...except it is extremely terrifying for her and she literally loses her mind when she attempts this. Okay, so door is open, and Psycho jumps out onto the balcony. Usually I can tell her to get back in and she is afraid of "behavior modification" so she goes back in. This time, she thought otherwise and made a run for it. I tried to call her back, but she wouldn't come. I went out the front door and around and by that time, she had jumped onto the neighbor's porch thinking it was her own and was frantically trying to get back in. Luckily the neighbors weren't home, and as I'm standing there calling Psycho to come, a nice young couple walk up and offer their help (while the girl is giving a play by play to whoever she is talking to on the phone). The guy tries to get her off the porch, but Psycho is a crazy good jumper and literally flies over the balcony wall, over the bushes, and lands on the grass at a run and takes off toward two ladies walking their dogs. After I locate Psycho under a bush, just out of my reach, I try to get her to come to me but alas, she has already lost her mind and thinks I am there to do her great harm. So I get my arms all scratched up grabbing at her tail, legs, whatever I can grab onto so she won't take off again.

It wouldn't have been so bad if I had just had to go outside and grab the cat, but that's not how it played out. Psycho was loud. And I mean LOUD. She was (in her mind) in grave danger and needed help so she was meowing profusely and wouldn't answer my calls because I was the one (again in her mind) that put her in such danger. So not only did we have the nice helpful couple and the two ladies walking their dogs as witnesses to my crazy cat, but people came out on their porch to see what was going on. Let's just imagine their conversation for a moment: "What was that?" "Oh, just the cat lady that lives next door looking for her cat." "That was a cat? Geez, it sounded like something was dying." "Well, you know how cat people are." "Yeah, crazy."

When I do get her back inside, she at first ignores me and goes off to pout somewhere because she still thinks that I am a stranger that has kidnapped her and won't let her live her life of freedom. After a few minutes, she has regained her wits and is so happy to be at home again that she won't leave my side...until I open the door again.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Mushy Cards

I'm just not a fan of mushy cards. I never have been. I mean, what is the chance that some blurb writer at Hallmark will know exactly what I am thinking and feeling and be able to convey that in a meaningful and cohesive way to my friends and loved ones? It's just not likely to happen. Mushy feelings can't be generalized and sold mass market and still be personal. Instead, I always go for the funny cards. What better way to tell someone that you love them, or that you are happy for them, or hope they are feeling better soon, or thank them than to make them laugh? Everybody likes to laugh. If they don't, they will once they start because if you're laughing at something, you are obviously enjoying it. So, I very rarely (if ever) give or receive a mushy card, and when I am the recipient of a mushy card, I usually just read it and think, "Hmmm...those are some very nice words that someone else wrote." That is if I read the card at all. I usually skim over the outside and open it up to see what the card giver wrote on the inside because that is what I really want to see: what the card giver has to say to me, not what Hallmark thinks I want to hear.

On a separate note, my sister and I have been at this little game for years that I like to call, "Who can make the other one cry", and we do this using cards for the various holidays. For example, on my sister's 16th birthday, I got her a card with all of this mushy stuff on the front and then when you open it up, there is a tissue glued inside. In front of all of her friends, she read the outside, cried, and then opened it up and ripped the tissue out to use it, giving me a glare while I laughed uncontrollably. I won the game that year.

This year, she won. I got my Valentine's card from her and of course it was a mushy one...blah, blah, blah. The note on the inside, "Love you bunches and miss you tons", meant more than the stuff about sisters being friends printed on the outside. That wasn't what made me cry though. The other card that was stuffed inside the envelope from my two adorable neices did:

Even though the year isn't over and I still have a shot at winning the game, it's going to be hard to top that.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Maybe someday...

Maybe someday my dishes won't rattle in the cupboards when the people upstairs walk around.
Maybe someday I won't have to hike 500 miles across a parking lot because all of the good spots are taken.
Maybe someday I'll have a valentine.
Maybe someday I'll fix the hole in my convertible top.
Maybe someday I'll have closets and storage space.
Maybe someday my cats won't fight with each other.
Maybe someday Jim and Pam and Michael and Dwight will make me laugh again.
Maybe someday I'll get to go back to Europe.
Maybe someday I'll be finished with my masters degree.
Maybe someday I'll run another marathon.
Maybe someday all of my debt will be paid off and I'll have my whole paycheck to myself.
Maybe someday I'll read all the books on my bookshelf.
Maybe someday my BFF will move back to Dallas.
Maybe someday I'll have a house.
Maybe someday I'll get to work early.

Monday, February 11, 2008

It's An Epidemic That Is Sweeping the Nation

Okay people. If you haven't yet read the "Vampire Books" as they are popularly called (and everyone knows what I'm talking about right? The Twilight Series by Stephenie Meyer), you might have found yourself completely puzzled on many occasions whilst people (mainly girls) around you are dropping names like Edward Cullen (let us have a moment of silence :), or discussing vampires with a dreamy look in their eyes. Vampires aren't a subject that comes up in normal everyday least not until recently when the Twilight Series became so popular. And people who have not read the book just go "Huh." with a confused look on their face when we readers try to convince them of the greatness of the love story between a girl and a vampire.

So for you non-readers out there, let me just give a little insight as to why the readers (or for me anyway), are so in love with these books: Edward Cullen. He is the vampire that the main character (Bella, a non-vampire girl) falls in love with. It's not because he is a vampire that we love him so much. It's not because he is described as being the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth. It's not because he drives a Volvo when he could drive any car ever made. It's not because he can demolish a car using his super vampire strength without blinking an eyelash. It's not because he would do anything to protect the ones he loves. And it's not because he is seventeen years old (he doesn't age as a vampire, but really he is like 110 years old or somewhere near that-I can't tell you exactly because I have loaned out my book and therefore cannot check my facts). It's because he has never fallen in love or even been attracted to anyone until he meets Bella. In 110 years, not a single girl has caught his eye until she comes along.

Well, you are either doing one of two things right now: puking in the garbage can at your desk or you have just melted into your chair. Did I mention that these are FICTIONAL characters? Even I have to remind myself of that when I get carried away. Fiction. Fiction. Made up. Not real. There isn't a man on this earth that could live 110 years that would not find some other woman attractive unless they were gay, and even they wouldn't last 110 years either. Yet, we totally buy into it.

That's not the whole reason why we readers love these vampire books. It's just one of many and before anyone gets too nauseated, I'll stop. But beware, once you begin, you'll be hooked. After all, it's an epidemic that is sweeping the nation!

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Why I Love Old People

I have always loved old people. I don't know what makes me love them so. I wasn't raised by my grandparents. There were no elderly people in my house growing up. I never worked with the elderly. It has always been a mystery to me why I am so drawn to them, and this week I gave it a little thought and came up with some pretty good reasons (or so I think) of why I love old people:

1. Old people think I'm cute. Not everyone does (including myself) and therefore this is very flattering to me. I could love them alone for this fact but please read on as there are more.

2. Old people think I'm smart. Now, I'm no computer whiz or anything but I know how to send an e-mail and how make a power point presentation and I can even make a double-sided copy on the copy machine in 2 seconds flat. These skills impress old people beyond belief and after I present them, I am ALWAYS rewarded with the comment, "You are so smart!" It's great, I love it.

3. Old people (mainly women) are excellent cooks. Seriously, have you ever had a truly horrendous meal made by an old person. Aside from my BFF's experience with green peas in green jello and other interesting food mixtures from her very own grandmother, it is rare to find an old lady that doesn't know how to cook...especially in the south. :)

4. Old people use words that no one really ever uses in common language. One time an elderly lady told me and a few of my single friends that in order to catch a man, we needed to "Perty yourselves up, you know, put some rouge on your cheeks!" Rouge, I would have never thought of that! Watch out I come!

5. Old people have an excuse for everything they do or do not want to do...they're old. I'm too old to work anymore. I'm too old to drive anymore, why don't you drive me? I'm too old to mow the lawn. I'm too old to care what other people think so I'll say what's on my mind. I'm old, I can wave my cane around instead of walk with it (gotta love Pres. Hinckley!)

6. It is socially acceptable for old people to do some of my most favorite things. Genealogy, needlework, play cards, watch Antiques Roadshow, apply for tickets to be on Antiques Roadshow, or have antiques period. Yes, I am a grandma at heart.

7. All sweets are "too rich" so in turn, I get them if I happen to be sitting close by during meal time. Yay for me!

8. This has by far got to be my favorite. No matter how early I manage to drag my lazy butt out of bed, they are ALWAYS up before me. ALWAYS. This is because of their strict schedule that is followed daily: They wake up around 4:00 am, go eat breakfast at Owens or IHOP and shoot the breeze with their old buddies. Then go get their grocery shopping done at 7:00am, go home and watch the morning news, and then take a nap. After nap time, it's time for lunch and then they do the old people stuff I love so much like genealogy, needlework, or putter around in the garage (I've never really had a garage I could putter around in, but one of these days I will and when I do, dog-gone-it, I am going to putter my little heart out). Then they have dinner around 4:00pm, watch some Antiques Roadshow and Wheel of Fortune (yeah, I like that show too). Then there's a little time to read a few pages of a book that you've read a thousand times before drifting off to sleep at the late hour of 7:00 or 8:00pm. That's the life isn't it?

9. Gardens. Don't old people have to loveliest gardens? I have successfully killed every plant I ever purchased, or that was ever given to me. But someday when I am old I will be blessed with the knowledge of vegetation...someday.

10. The ones that have made it through the storms of life with their spouses, truly love each other...probably even more than when they were first married. And here is where I get nostaligic. One of my favorite memories of my Johnson grandparents is during the holidays. My Grandpa Johnson was a die-hard Cowboys fan and would always go watch the game after the family festivities on Thanksgiving or Christmas. My grandmother would always stay in the other room and chat and visit. Whenever the Cowboys would score, Grandpa would get up and go give Grandma a kiss so that "she could keep track of the score". Really, I just think it was an excuse to share something he loved with someone he loved.

So, there you have it. That's why I love old people!

The End.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Accordian Man

Every once in a while, you go somewhere completely normal and at the same time run into someone who is completely weird. For some people, their "Weirdo Magnet" is by default on high and those are the people that I truly feel sorry for. As for me, it's on medium, so I still think it's funny and interesting when my path crosses the "Truly Odd". Such is the subject for my first blog, Accordian Man...

Friday night after a movie, my friends and I went to Cold Stone Creamery (completely normal). As we were trying to decide on what to get, the guy behind the counter asks us, "Can I help you?", in a voice that all too clearly resembles that of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. He then proceeded to talk to us in that same Stitch Voice as we got our ice cream and moved on down the line (not normal). I'm pretty sure he gave the other people behind us in line the same wonderful experience.

I'm sure you are asking yourself why this guy...we'll call him Wally because really, he looked like a Wally...why Wally was attracted by my medium strength Weirdo Magnet. Well, because my friends, it doesn't end at the Stitch Voice. As we are enjoying our various frozen treats, Wally comes out of the back with an accordian and starts playing songs to entertain the customers (namely a table of giggly high school girls). When someone asks him how long he had been playing, he says it has only been one semester which means that he is most likely taking a class on accordian playing.

Now who does this? Who talks to strangers in a Stitch Voice and takes accordian classes and then shares their musical talents in order to impress a table of giggly girls at the Cold Stone Creamery on a Friday night?

In their defense, I greatly admire weirdos and this is where they become interesting creatures to me because they have no inhibitions. They really and truly do not care what other people think and are completely happy to just be themselves. So props to you Wally the Accordian Man!