Welcome to the Socialist States of America!! I've been awake less than an hour and my distaste for the direction of our nation is freshly and fully renewed. Why, I ask, are thousands of GM dealers across this country losing their life's work? More importantly, why are the whiny, often-lazy, manipulative unionized laborers that the hard work of these very dealers has supported for three decades keeping their employment and benefits, and blood-sucking unions? Trust me, the inflated and ridiculous demands of unions had everything to do with GM going under. Dealers working seven days a week to move and sell the consequently over-priced, non-competitive end product were not the problem. This perplexes me, yet I think I've found the answer: Unions were one of the first (for lack of a better term) stupid steps toward socialism, so it's only natural for the idiots in power to preserve these entities. I mean, it would be counterproductive to harm the foundation of the welfare-state structure. Conversely, the dealers are actually self-made people, with a little bit of personal wealth, and hey(!) ambition and intelligence, and their kind simply won't fit in with the new and better, "changed" America.
I had this revelation, and then started thinking like Big Brother. Two men laid off in Knoxville were on the news this morning. They lost their jobs, but instead of kicking back in the recliner and living off tax dollars for a few months, the very day they lost their jobs, they started a new business. Ironically, this business makes money by cleaning up foreclosed homes for resale. Bet the government didn't see that one coming!! HA!! Nevertheless, this action again shows the men to be self-sufficient, and therefore, not ideal for citizenship in our new and changed states.
I was discussing IQ scores with people yesterday and it occurred to me: If you've got a score higher than 110, you'll want to keep it under wraps. Better yet, hook yourself up to the toaster and see if you can shave off a few points. You don't want to appear too smart these days, it may soon be considered treason.
Showing posts with label Craziness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Craziness. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Monday, Monday
Holy cow! This day has already been insane. I miss the crisp, clearly defined seasons of the Northwest. Let me explain...I started my day on the assumption that this afternoon would be a sunny (dry) 69 degrees, and therefore straightened my hair. Then, what do I hear, the pitter patter of rain on the roof top. I put my hair in a clip - doesn't look good. I put my hair in a ponytail - also does not look good, and (here's where the Type A kicks in) slightly unprofessional, I think. Hair goes back down.
Meanwhile, I have an article due next week that I desperately needed to send out for fact checking this morning. So in between hairstyles, I was trying to upload the article and hunt down e-mail addresses for an architect, pastor and contractor.
On to the wardrobe malfunctions!! EVERY ITEM OF CLOTHING I PUT ON HAD SOMETHING WRONG WITH IT. It is now more than ten minutes past my standard departure time. I am never late. (Another Type A characteristic.)
In the car, driving to work. Get behind the slowest person ON the planet. Get to work 15v minutes late - after receiving at least one text message that a staff member was out sick, making this the 134th day in a row that we've had absenteeism in either our school or daycare (that's another post). (Yes, I like to use parentheses.)
Nevertheless, I am keeping a smile on my face because I never know who might be watching to see how I react. I love my life, challenges and all. I love the people I work with, even when they get sick. I am truly honored to fill the role that I do, so much that I cant' quite come up with the words to describe it. I'll work on that and tell you later.
Meanwhile, I have an article due next week that I desperately needed to send out for fact checking this morning. So in between hairstyles, I was trying to upload the article and hunt down e-mail addresses for an architect, pastor and contractor.
On to the wardrobe malfunctions!! EVERY ITEM OF CLOTHING I PUT ON HAD SOMETHING WRONG WITH IT. It is now more than ten minutes past my standard departure time. I am never late. (Another Type A characteristic.)
In the car, driving to work. Get behind the slowest person ON the planet. Get to work 15v minutes late - after receiving at least one text message that a staff member was out sick, making this the 134th day in a row that we've had absenteeism in either our school or daycare (that's another post). (Yes, I like to use parentheses.)
Nevertheless, I am keeping a smile on my face because I never know who might be watching to see how I react. I love my life, challenges and all. I love the people I work with, even when they get sick. I am truly honored to fill the role that I do, so much that I cant' quite come up with the words to describe it. I'll work on that and tell you later.
Friday, July 20, 2007
On dining out
I was at a buffet last Sunday for lunch. I don't particularly care for buffets, but I live in Kilgore, so....
While I was getting my fried rice, this little girl was waiting behind me. When finished, I stepped away and moved to the other side of the island. As, I was getting some Lo Mein, I witnessed this child spoon rice onto her plate then proceed to pick out the peas and carrots (with her dirty little girl fingers!!) and throw them back into the serving basin. I was horrified. I considered telling her to stop, but people are funny about having their children corrected by strangers and I didn't want to have a run in with anybody at that buffet. Trust me, this child couldn't have been raised by any sane, non-violent, respectable person. Instead of saying something, I just gave her the most disapproving look I could muster. She reciprocated with a what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it smirk and walked off. I wanted to smack her. But, I just thanked the Lord I had already gotten my fried rice and told my family to avoid that particular dish. I'm sure there are all kinds of cooties crawling around buffets. I think I will permanently remove them from my list of dining options. They just freak me out. Where's the quality control?
While I was getting my fried rice, this little girl was waiting behind me. When finished, I stepped away and moved to the other side of the island. As, I was getting some Lo Mein, I witnessed this child spoon rice onto her plate then proceed to pick out the peas and carrots (with her dirty little girl fingers!!) and throw them back into the serving basin. I was horrified. I considered telling her to stop, but people are funny about having their children corrected by strangers and I didn't want to have a run in with anybody at that buffet. Trust me, this child couldn't have been raised by any sane, non-violent, respectable person. Instead of saying something, I just gave her the most disapproving look I could muster. She reciprocated with a what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it smirk and walked off. I wanted to smack her. But, I just thanked the Lord I had already gotten my fried rice and told my family to avoid that particular dish. I'm sure there are all kinds of cooties crawling around buffets. I think I will permanently remove them from my list of dining options. They just freak me out. Where's the quality control?
Monday, July 16, 2007
Three-day weekend, sort of
I contracted a demon stomach virus last week – so not by choice I checked out at 3:30 Thursday. I never got sick in the “classic sense” one thinks of when a stomach bug is involved, and for that I am most grateful, though I still begged my mother to give me intravenous drugs of some kind to knock me out. My skin hurt, my stomach hurt, and it sucked. I was awakened at 3 a.m. Friday to the sound of frogs outside my bedroom window. I sat up and listened, listened some more, then realized the sound was not coming from my amphibian friends. It was coming from my stomach. Something dark and unnatural was going on in my intestines, and I was dripping buckets of sweat, so I reached over and reset the alarm to 7:30, just in time to call in sick, or if I happened to be cured within the next five hours, call in to say I would be really late. I stayed home. There are some things you just don’t screw around with, and the risk of, well, I stayed home.
Ordinarily I love couch time. I had couch time on Friday. About 3:00 my brain was tired of couch time, though, but I didn’t feel well enough to walk around and do anything about it. I hadn’t had much to eat because everything my lips touched sent debilitating pain ripping through my abdomen. (Side note: The guy who brought the virus to work, quit on Friday. Chicken. He knew what was coming.) So, I just remained on the couch, in pain, I went to bed, in pain, and I woke up Saturday morning, in pain. But, to alleviate said pain, I went to the boardwalk in Shreveport with the parents, Rebekah and my Aunt Sheri and Uncle Larry. We rounded out the day by going to visit Sheri’s parents. Her mother is awesome. For those of you who think Texas is crazy, you should spend some time in Louisiana. They’re a breed apart, must be the gumbo. Her mom has been in a wheelchair for several years, I’m not sure why, but she is just the sweetest lady. So, we’re all sitting out on the porch and I mentioned the concealed handgun license class and the conversation briefly turned to firearms.
Sheri said, “I’d like to take a class and get that license.”
“Yeah, me, too” I replied. “But. I have to get a semi-automatic first, because - ”
“Oh, I want one of those, like my mama has,” said Sheri, as she pointed to her mother pulling a small pouch out of her wheelchair pocket.
I surveyed the pouch and considered the possible contents - manicure kit? Nope. Collapsible .22.
That’s freakin’ cool. You might think an older lady, confined to a wheelchair, alone during the day in a rural area would be vulnerable to hoodlums and such. Not this lady – she’s shot at people before and she’ll do it again. She also said if she had to shoot someone in the street, she would, then she’d drag them into her front yard and claim the blood trail was arterial spray. She probably has rope in that wheelchair pocket just for the purpose of a wheelchair body tow.
I’m considering writing a blog, shoot I could probably write a whole book, on things you only see and hear in the South. This story would make the cut, as would this observation: Why do people down here use Confederate flags as window treatments?
Ordinarily I love couch time. I had couch time on Friday. About 3:00 my brain was tired of couch time, though, but I didn’t feel well enough to walk around and do anything about it. I hadn’t had much to eat because everything my lips touched sent debilitating pain ripping through my abdomen. (Side note: The guy who brought the virus to work, quit on Friday. Chicken. He knew what was coming.) So, I just remained on the couch, in pain, I went to bed, in pain, and I woke up Saturday morning, in pain. But, to alleviate said pain, I went to the boardwalk in Shreveport with the parents, Rebekah and my Aunt Sheri and Uncle Larry. We rounded out the day by going to visit Sheri’s parents. Her mother is awesome. For those of you who think Texas is crazy, you should spend some time in Louisiana. They’re a breed apart, must be the gumbo. Her mom has been in a wheelchair for several years, I’m not sure why, but she is just the sweetest lady. So, we’re all sitting out on the porch and I mentioned the concealed handgun license class and the conversation briefly turned to firearms.
Sheri said, “I’d like to take a class and get that license.”
“Yeah, me, too” I replied. “But. I have to get a semi-automatic first, because - ”
“Oh, I want one of those, like my mama has,” said Sheri, as she pointed to her mother pulling a small pouch out of her wheelchair pocket.
I surveyed the pouch and considered the possible contents - manicure kit? Nope. Collapsible .22.
That’s freakin’ cool. You might think an older lady, confined to a wheelchair, alone during the day in a rural area would be vulnerable to hoodlums and such. Not this lady – she’s shot at people before and she’ll do it again. She also said if she had to shoot someone in the street, she would, then she’d drag them into her front yard and claim the blood trail was arterial spray. She probably has rope in that wheelchair pocket just for the purpose of a wheelchair body tow.
I’m considering writing a blog, shoot I could probably write a whole book, on things you only see and hear in the South. This story would make the cut, as would this observation: Why do people down here use Confederate flags as window treatments?
Friday, July 6, 2007
Rain and whimsical livestock
I live near a miniature donkey farm (save it!). When I drove past it during this morning's drenching, tree-up-rooting downpour, the fields where the donkeys graze (or do what miniature donkeys do) was an OCEAN! I have been worried about those donkeys all day. Did they drown? Can miniature donkeys swim? (Hahaha, there's a mental image for you: miniature donkeys swimming!! Hold on. Let me compose myself.)
The barn was also flooded, along with the house - where are the donkeys???
I sometimes forget that not all of you live in Texas, but if you don't live under a rock and you can at least hear, see and/or read, you know Texas has had a rough, rather wet time of it these past 44 days - hmmmmm, that's eerily biblical...
I woke up at 3:30 this morning, after having a dream I had swallowed a mango whole (that's for another post), to the sound of rain beating on the roof. I knew it was bad news. I stayed awake thinking of how I might have to drive our bass boat to work. I waited to feel the house break away and begin to float. That didn't happen, but I turned on the news at 5 a.m. and found out my area in particular was averaging two inches of rain per hour, and it had been raining (that I knew of) for at least two hours. That's a ridiculous amount of water, and I already live on a lake. "The rains came down and the floods came up (repeat)" has been stuck in my head all day. Oh, and brace yourselves, Longview has (gasp) cancelled the "Great East Texas Balloon Race." My life is forever changed.
The trip to Arkansas was fun. Andee and I arrived safely. The trip wasn't nearly long enough, but at least we got to play in the mountains a little. Rebekah and I got along so well. She was like my BFF all weekend. Things are back to normal now, however.
The barn was also flooded, along with the house - where are the donkeys???
I sometimes forget that not all of you live in Texas, but if you don't live under a rock and you can at least hear, see and/or read, you know Texas has had a rough, rather wet time of it these past 44 days - hmmmmm, that's eerily biblical...
I woke up at 3:30 this morning, after having a dream I had swallowed a mango whole (that's for another post), to the sound of rain beating on the roof. I knew it was bad news. I stayed awake thinking of how I might have to drive our bass boat to work. I waited to feel the house break away and begin to float. That didn't happen, but I turned on the news at 5 a.m. and found out my area in particular was averaging two inches of rain per hour, and it had been raining (that I knew of) for at least two hours. That's a ridiculous amount of water, and I already live on a lake. "The rains came down and the floods came up (repeat)" has been stuck in my head all day. Oh, and brace yourselves, Longview has (gasp) cancelled the "Great East Texas Balloon Race." My life is forever changed.
The trip to Arkansas was fun. Andee and I arrived safely. The trip wasn't nearly long enough, but at least we got to play in the mountains a little. Rebekah and I got along so well. She was like my BFF all weekend. Things are back to normal now, however.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Does that make me crazy? Or just pathetic?
I am a big, fat chicken. I don’t like being home alone. I slept within five feet of a loaded 357-Magnum last night. Read on – this is a ridiculous story.
My family left yesterday on vacation, leaving me all by my lonesome. There is no conceivable reason for me to be frightened in my home; I AM ALMOST 24 YEARS OLD!! But, still I allow my mind to wander – this resulted in the 357 being placed at my bedside and all other firearms being hidden throughout the house, so no one could get to them before me. Or maybe it was my subconscious’ tactical defense plan. To my knowledge no kind of violent home invasion has ever occurred in our area, it’s rural, but safe. However, since I’m a paranoid lunatic, I went to a preposterous extreme in outfitting myself to handle a very unlikely life-threatening situation. I consider this irrational fear to be similar to how I used to feel about flying and riding roller coasters. The more I did it, the less scared I became until eventually it didn’t bother me at all. I never had a problem being by myself when we lived inside city limits, but the country setting and the woods adjacent to my home just make me a little nervous. I drugged myself last night, because I knew I would never fall asleep. This worked out well until 2:30 this morning when I woke up. I never, repeat never, wake up in the middle of the night naturally, especially after taking a sleep aid. So, I knew a noise was what had disturbed me and adrenaline took over. From that point on there was no stopping my brain. So I watched Fresh Prince re-runs and finally got sleepy again roughly 45 minutes before I had to get up. I will conquer this fear just like all the others.
One fear I will never conquer is my arachnophobia. Oh sweet mercy! When I walked out of my bedroom this morning the largest spider I have ever seen was blocking my entrance to the bathroom. Yet another problem with my family deserting me is, I usually make Rebekah kill spiders for me, they don’t bother her. Rebekah is, in general, cooler and braver than me. But, today she wasn’t there to save me. I considered my options. I could go to work unshowered and just rinse with mouthwash once I got there. My contacts were in the bathroom, but I could wear my glasses (even though they’re too weak of a prescription). The problem was, I went to the gym last night, so I really did need to shower, and also I am driving to join my family today, so I really needed to pack all the stuff in the bathroom. I would have to handle this. I went and got a broom, and from a safe five feet away knocked the spider off the bathroom door. When it hit the floor, it ran under Rebekah’s bedroom door. Good enough for me!
Andee is joining me on my drive into the dark Arkansas night. I’m sure there will be fun stories for next week. Don’t miss out!
My family left yesterday on vacation, leaving me all by my lonesome. There is no conceivable reason for me to be frightened in my home; I AM ALMOST 24 YEARS OLD!! But, still I allow my mind to wander – this resulted in the 357 being placed at my bedside and all other firearms being hidden throughout the house, so no one could get to them before me. Or maybe it was my subconscious’ tactical defense plan. To my knowledge no kind of violent home invasion has ever occurred in our area, it’s rural, but safe. However, since I’m a paranoid lunatic, I went to a preposterous extreme in outfitting myself to handle a very unlikely life-threatening situation. I consider this irrational fear to be similar to how I used to feel about flying and riding roller coasters. The more I did it, the less scared I became until eventually it didn’t bother me at all. I never had a problem being by myself when we lived inside city limits, but the country setting and the woods adjacent to my home just make me a little nervous. I drugged myself last night, because I knew I would never fall asleep. This worked out well until 2:30 this morning when I woke up. I never, repeat never, wake up in the middle of the night naturally, especially after taking a sleep aid. So, I knew a noise was what had disturbed me and adrenaline took over. From that point on there was no stopping my brain. So I watched Fresh Prince re-runs and finally got sleepy again roughly 45 minutes before I had to get up. I will conquer this fear just like all the others.
One fear I will never conquer is my arachnophobia. Oh sweet mercy! When I walked out of my bedroom this morning the largest spider I have ever seen was blocking my entrance to the bathroom. Yet another problem with my family deserting me is, I usually make Rebekah kill spiders for me, they don’t bother her. Rebekah is, in general, cooler and braver than me. But, today she wasn’t there to save me. I considered my options. I could go to work unshowered and just rinse with mouthwash once I got there. My contacts were in the bathroom, but I could wear my glasses (even though they’re too weak of a prescription). The problem was, I went to the gym last night, so I really did need to shower, and also I am driving to join my family today, so I really needed to pack all the stuff in the bathroom. I would have to handle this. I went and got a broom, and from a safe five feet away knocked the spider off the bathroom door. When it hit the floor, it ran under Rebekah’s bedroom door. Good enough for me!
Andee is joining me on my drive into the dark Arkansas night. I’m sure there will be fun stories for next week. Don’t miss out!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
