I’ve moved

*** as sometimes happens when we move, we don’t always know our new address. Try again.

Good weekend, playing with my phone, playing with my new blog, so to know more go here.

What is the deal with the phones?

 

Well back in 1876 an ol’ boy named Bell
Invented a contraption that we know so well
By the 1950’s they’re in everybodys home
It’s a crazy little thing they call a telephone
Now there’s one in every corner,in the back of every bar
You can get one in your briefcase,on a plane or in your car

Chorus:
So tell me why,haven’t I,heard from you
Tell me why,haven’t I,heard from you
I said now darlin’,honey,what is your excuse
Why haven’t I heard from you

Well there’s no problem gettin to me baby you can dial direct
I got call forward and call waitin’ you can even call collect
the service man he told me that my phone was workin’ fine
And I have come to the conclusion trouble isn’t with my line
I’m sure the operator will be glad to put you through
So dial zero for assistance if this all confuses you

Chorus:
So tell me why,haven’t I,heard from you
Tell me why,haven’t I,heard from you
I said now darlin’,honey,what is your excuse
Why haven’t I heard from you

There’d better be a flood
A landslide of mud
A fire that burns up the wires
And thunder so loud with black funnel cloud
A natural disaster I know nothin about

Chorus:
Tell my why,haven’t I,heard from you
Tell me why,haven’t I,heard from you,yeah
I said now darlin’,honey,what is your excuse
Why haven’t I heard from you

Reba Mcentire, Why haven’t I heard from you?

And thats all I got to say about that.

Households

So I’m not a member of any household. I hang out with several and have for years, but for whatever reason, I’ve never been invited to join.

So anyway, this past wonderful weekend, I’m sitting at dinner with one of the members of one of OS’s households. He says, “Where is Sara? She should be here.” I’m halfway through the best Pina Colada I’ve had the pleasure to drink in a while and I’m not thinking real coherent. (as in I decided to drink my supper, something called “voodoo juice” yep, show me the karaoke machine, and oohh he’s real cute) It came in a bucket, need I say more?

“Sara who?” I say, I know lots of Saras and Sarah’s and well you get the picture. So he says, “The Sara” And I say “Sara Willis?” I had kind of lost some brain cells you know? So he says, “The Sara, Our Sara, the Only Sara, MY Sara.” Sweet. That girl’s got something going on and it ain’t just her baking skills.

Are you trying to kill me?

So today Princess and I go to Vino’s for lunch. I order a spinach calzone. It comes, I start cutting into it. I see pink stuff. Its ham. I send it back and the waitress comes and apologizes, “He said it will be ready in six minutes or you can kick him.” “I’ll wait 10 if I can kick him.” I say. After waiting forever, another waiter comes over,

“Here’s your sausage calzone.” he says. I start waiving him away (the same movement when OS is driving and passing and a car is coming-warding off bad juju.) Is he trying to kill me? The waitress walks over with my money and lays it on the table. I get my money back. And an apology. Apparently at Vinos they don’t know the difference between spinach and sausage. (or are doing something wrong with the mushrooms)

I’m hungry.
Tuesday went to spin class, then went to phone company.  It was closed so next door to it was the Nestle Cookie company. Had “Double Trouble” for supper. Two chocolate chip cookies with frosting in the middle. It was really sweet but I forced myself to carry on.

Spin again tonight. Hate it but its good for me;) love yoga though.

My new Blackjack will be here this week so maybe I can talk to people again.

Rambling Rose

This isn’t the post I was supposed to post today. But after reading Robbin’s succinctly put post of 7-19-07  I have been thinking about what she said.

First of all, Ouch. I like to think I love people enough to be strong and noble and only think of their good. I am human however and as Elizabeth said, “how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry.” (Pride and Prejudice) and the truth is probably a bit more down to earth.

How strong are we anyway? Robbin nailed it in a way that if I could have said it, it would have not been near as clear and would have used way too many extra words.  Love, is patient, kind, … That is the ideal, and yet, there is a God and it ain’t you. Meaning we can’t hit that ideal, just reach for it. God has expectations of people. Yes he loves us, but he expects things from us too.  Even a parent-child relationship should have some expectations from the other person or you get a horrible person with an unreal sense of self-importance. And in adult relationships you should have expectations and not be afraid to stick with them.

Robbin has a good point saying,”The romanticism of our modern society likes to make such an ideal out of the concept of unconditional love – the self-sacrifice, the constancy, the faith.”, because that is the message we get. You are selfish, or you are sacrificial. Aren’t we all a mixture? Some of us lean one way more than other on occasion. But love shouldn’t mean you are a doormat, because that doesn’t make anyone happy.  I was thinking on my long drive home Sunday about how people usually say things like, “I’m not selfish” or “I’m not mean” when that is usually the thing they really are. (just random ramblings related to popular music and its warped view of love)

Aren’t we all a little selfish? I mean, you have to get something out of the relationships you have or you wouldn’t have them. Right? I think we talked about that last year. On some level you are getting something out of that relationship or you wouldn’t invest time or anything else on it. And having expectations of the other person isn’t a bad thing. It’s the unrealistic expectations that should be checked. Like that one person will meet all your needs, fix all your brokenness, entertain you and make all the bad in your world go away. Talk about a heavy burden. Or expecting more from someone then they are able to provide. You have to give people the freedom to be where and who they are.

Sheila

Beaches

No shoes, no shirt, no problem

Me and the Pina Coladas are on the way south. I’m ready for sun, sand, water and good friends and nothing to do but sleep all day and when the sun goes down its time to play, something like that.

Anyway, got babygirl lined out and the hair dryer noise fixed and she’s and safe for road tripping. A clean car is a happy car so she’s going to visit car wash today and maybe get some new magnets. Have strangely odd directions and a map quest map. Leaving at lunch tomorrow and planning to relax as much as humanly possible. We may or may not stop in Jackson for a visit to a boy that has been popping up occasionally, not sure if like a mole or not.

In other news:

NOW not only limited inet access but NO meebo, my chat drug of choice. It seems after four weeks it was put on the dirty list of no no sites.  I miss some of you like crazy, and others I’d like to miss, if I could talk to you more. Blackjack will be ordered Friday and I’ll be spending my spare time figuring the blessed thing out.

Speaking of spare time,

Thanks OS for saving my life when the computers went down yesterday, yep, first full days of work and old computer mainframe fritzing. The caffeine spider can’t do the sit still and do nothing thing, reason number two I’m going to take up knitting or crochet in the near future, right after I hand finish that A&S thing.

I e-mailed OS on the super secret spy e-mail and told her it was up to her to keep me from showing my ADD, she sent me back some pages from Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper. The super spy network captured it and only released it today after a DNA sample, (didn’t know THAT’S how they got my DNA, I feel dirty) and as a result, at 7 a.m. I was flat out ROFL in my cube all alone. Which.Is.Crazy.

Thanks, OS for saving me, I’ll bring you a jelly fish.
Oh, and don’t forget, Enabler Dan set me up at http://www.coffeeandshoes.com/ and I’ll be double posting for a while til I figure out how to flip everything over there, oh and its fugly so that has to be fixed quick like.

Monday Monday

First the good news Enabler Dan has graciously set up a new blog page for me,   http://coffeeandshoes.com  and we will be prettying it up and I’ll be moving there very soon.

Today was my first day of working eight hours this year. Before you hate me, consider that I had the lovely reduction in pay that goes with that. I have only bought one pair of shoes this year. Last night, in fact. I had to restrain myself as about four pairs tried to crawl in my cart and I had to beat them off. They were very cute and very disappointed to have to say in the store.

You know my first clue that today was Monday? I spilled broke a jar of cranberry juice concentrate all over the clean kitchen floor. You know what cranberry juice concentrate looks like on the floor? Like evidence for CSI. I had decided to wear jeans today to forestall the whole, “its Monday and my clothes hate me” game. You know the one, when the pants don’t fit, the tops that match the bottoms that fit are hiding and the one of each pair of shoes that match the dresses have each gone on vacation with that one missing dryer sock. (I have it on good authority from OS that the socks are out line dancing with all the nice sweet single available men in my time zone.) Not sure how they will handle the one shoe thing.

So recap of morning up at 4:30, drop things, make coffee, try to make breakfast, shower, get dressed, splat cranberry juice with glass on baby toe so it can match the cut on other baby toe from Saturday. Clean the cranberry blood off the floor, wash the towels and stuff used to clean cranberry blood. Find new pants. Go to work, drop money in the toilet, NO I just let it go. Yuk. Clean nasty cube.  Get yummy new office supplies. Drop  about 100 tacks on floor narrowly missing  baby toe. I make more messes before 9.a.m. than most people make all day.

also dropped today: Lettuce, ink pens, celery and a few other odds and ends.

I think I’ve been here before.

You know I think that online dating ads are the funniest things ever written. I mean people say they want a “good woman” Don’t they really mean they want a bad woman? And what is a “real woman?” Is that opposed to a Barbie Doll with a voice box and a programmable disc you can change if the mood strikes you? I don’t know any unreal women. Unless the cyborgs have gotten so complex we can’t tell who they are now.

So anyway, periodically optimistic as I am, I scroll through the online ads, much like car shopping or shoe shopping. (which is the danger of online shopping, you just look and never make a purchase.) And I find the guy with the picture of toast. Oh yes, and I copied it to prove I didn’t make it up. That is his profile picture, I kid you not.

Here is my list of pet peeves with personal ad photos:

*You without a shirt. It makes you look like you want to put someone in a barrel in your back yard.
*You in your bedroom. I’m glad you have one but I’m not ready to see it.
*picture from 1982.
*A picture of you with a woman in 1982.
*A picture of you at anytime with another guy. Which one is you? I’m glad you have friends, really I am.
*A black and white photo of you looking like a character from a movie or a rock star. Unless you are a rock star, but even then don’t you have a picture hanging out in your back yard or something?

I strongly suggest guys let their women friends see the pictures they have before they post them. They can tell you that a white wife beater isn’t your best look.
Also, if you have the same Yahoo picture up from five years ago, update it please. It just makes you look lazy. And most women aren’t into lazy men.

And speaking of lazy, fill out those little boxes on your profile. And spell most of the words correctly. It bothers some of us a lot. As in, “he’s so cute, but he can’t spell.” Yep, women think of things like that. And if you don’t fill out those little boxes on your profile it makes us think you are into taking shortcuts in other situations. “Just ask me what you want to know,” A guy really said that to me when I pointed out that I wished he would fill out his profile. (I was trying to give him a chance instead of just saying,) “loser, don’t contact me again.” If he can’t be bothered to share that information, what else was he hiding? I’ll never know because I was too lazy to ask him anything other than to fill out his profile.

Also, pointing out that I have nice boobs or don’t look my age isn’t going to get you anywhere. Pointing it out three different times surely won’t. Saying you think I’m cute might. Or try actually asking me an intelligent question that needs an answer.

Of course I’m not sure I’m a real woman, I might be a figment of someone’s really warped imagination.

Hate it when that happens

when you get bits of a song stuck in your head, can’t google it cause that would mean you had access to the outside world. So by the time you get home you can’t remember what it was but its there like the remnants of a very good dream

 I think its this:

And never know the thrill of what could be
With every star so far and out of reach
I could live without many things
And I could carry on, but…

I couldn’t face my life tomorrow
Without Your hope in my heart I know
I can’t live a day without You
Lord, there’s no night and there’s no morning
Without Your loving arms to hold me
You’re the heartbeat of all I do
I can’t live a day without You

I could travel the world
See all the wonders beautiful and new
They’d only make me think of You
And I could have all life offers
Riches that were far beyond compare
To grant my every wish without a care
Oh, I could do anything, oh yes
But if You weren’t in it all…

could be this:

Lost in this moment with you
I am completely consumed
My feeling’s so absolute
There’s no doubt
Sealing our love with a kiss
Waited my whole life for this
Watching all my dreams come true
Lost in this moment with you

Weekend ended with me staying Sunday night and leaving at 2:30 to drive back to work on time  Monday . Made it with five minutes to spare. 

 Tuesday or Wednesday was late to work because there was this perfect blend of sweet snugglee warmness and the air was a just right cool temperature. The pillows all surrounded me, cuddling just right, and I was having the best dreams. Needless to say many snooze alarms were involved.

Lugh this weekend, researching an A and S project I’ve been kicking around in my head for a while. And I’m almost afraid to say, Pensacola next weekend. You see, the last time I went to Orange Beach/Pensacola, was a month before Katrina.

Now I’m not taking credit, but the time before I went to Foley/Orange Beach/Pensacola? Andrew.