Since today is the 29th of February--it is a leap year, doncha know?--I thought to myself that I should take advantage of the extra day and write a blog today. I won't have opportunity to write a blog on the 29th of February for four more years. (Which is probably good news to anyone who actually reads my posts, now that I think about it....)
Today is Brandon H's "10th" birthday. I went to high school with Brandon. I thought having a birthday on the 29th would be really neat. He could have a birthday on the 28th of Feb. AND the 1st of March and still be right. And look...instead of turning 40 like everyone else in our graduating class (Go Wildcats), he gets to turn 10. There are serious bonuses to having an odd birthday like today.
Getting married on this date wouldn't be quite as smart, since most men I know would figure they only have to celebrate their anniversary once every four years. Of course, that could be detrimental too because they would be lax in remembering the date and would probably forget the anniversary completely thinking that it wasn't a leap year that year.
I'm probably not being fair to the men out there, but this is what I do.
The jury on dying on this date is still out. I mean, seriously...dying in general isn't something you really look forward to, so what does the date matter? It just ingrains in all those still living who might have cared about you, which date you died. Easier to remember in that sense. But as most of you are aware, my side of the family remembers weird things like death dates. We don't need an easier time of it to remember. (For example, I still remember that my pet bird that Cindy killed--thanks for that, by the way Cindy--died on Feb. 2nd 26 years ago. Why do I remember that? Because I got it for my 14th birthday and it died on Groundhog's Day...if it had been Feb. 3 I wouldn't remember the date. And no, I have no idea why I'm letting this psychosis out in the open. We're insane. What can I say?)
February 29th would be a good day for:
First kisses
A day without the children whining
Chocolate
Playing with puppies--and giving them back to their owners
and
Winning the lottery
Who am I kidding? We don't need the 29th of February for those things. I'd like those things on any given day...well, except that first one. I don't think my husband would like be going out looking for a first kiss from someone else...
So I suppose the 29th is good for balancing out the calendar and helping some people put off their true age if lucky enough to be born on this day.
And apparently it is also good for letting me practice rambling skills. And it is a skill, like anything else.
Happy last day of February.
(edited to fix the date of death of my bird--which should show that I'm not as fixated on the death dates as my family, but in reality just shows my blatant lack of simple math skills--thanks for pointing that out Cindy...now I can hold a grudge about that over you--and I'll remember the date)
Friday, February 29, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
What to Write?
I don't write new blog posts very often. I like to write them, don't get me wrong...but I suppose I keep waiting for something fascinating to happen to write about. Something fun or silly. Not the mundane that usually occurs at my house and in my life.
So why am I writing now?
I have no idea.
It isn't to share the story of how I drove all the way downtown yesterday to pay the stupid fine on my stupid ticket (see the previous blog entry on not pushing your luck for that story), only to find that the precinct there doesn't have my ticket. It was written up out of their jurisdiction so it will either be in the town I live in, or the one right next to it since the ticket was given exactly on the border of the two towns. Exactly on it...the street divides the boundaries so one side of the road is one town, the other side is the other town. So I called the bordering town's offices and they don't have the ticket either. And by the time they called me back, my town's offices were closed. So I get to track it down today somehow. But honestly...if they have lost my ticket, that should make it just dissolve and go away right? (wishful thinking...but still....)
But I digress...I really didn't write today to share that story.
Nor did I write today to give a glowing report on the dollar movies--it only cost $4.50 to take my entire family to the movies last night. That is a count of 9 people. Monday's are .50 days at the dollar shows. Huge bargain.
And I didn't write to say that the movie 'Enchanted' is, well, enchanting. (It is a really cute show though...definitely one that we will buy when it comes out on DVD)
And I certainly didn't write to share my observation on how I can GAIN weight and then people will mention how thin I am starting to look--I've decided that it must be a reverse psychology thing. That, or they are frightened by my increase in weight and instead of telling the truth--"Holy Toledo! Your butt is getting H-U-G-E!"--they panic and say the exact opposite.
Oh, and I didn't decide to write about how my 15 year-old daughter was in seminary and her teacher told the class that people shouldn't kiss unless they want to marry that person. So she went up to his desk later and told him that her parents have told her that they don't want her to marry the only person she ever kisses--and the teacher responded loudly enough to her questioning that now all of her classmates think Doug and are are pretty darn cool. Even though we didn't really mean it the way she made it sound.
Speaking of that subject though, I must throw in that I loved Aimee's friend's $1000 idea (see the comments in my Valentine's post for the explaination). I mentioned it to my 15 year-old and she wanted to know if I could do the same thing but pay her if she makes it to 16 without kissing a boy. I laughed and laughed and told her no way, no how. That she will owe ME $1000 if she kisses a boy before she is 16. :) But that isn't what I wanted to write about either.
Hmmm.
Let me think....
Nope. I really have nothing of interest to write about today, but really wanted to say something. Maybe something will come to me later. Or not.
I might not write often, but no one can say that my rambling skills have in anyway diminished.
So why am I writing now?
I have no idea.
It isn't to share the story of how I drove all the way downtown yesterday to pay the stupid fine on my stupid ticket (see the previous blog entry on not pushing your luck for that story), only to find that the precinct there doesn't have my ticket. It was written up out of their jurisdiction so it will either be in the town I live in, or the one right next to it since the ticket was given exactly on the border of the two towns. Exactly on it...the street divides the boundaries so one side of the road is one town, the other side is the other town. So I called the bordering town's offices and they don't have the ticket either. And by the time they called me back, my town's offices were closed. So I get to track it down today somehow. But honestly...if they have lost my ticket, that should make it just dissolve and go away right? (wishful thinking...but still....)
But I digress...I really didn't write today to share that story.
Nor did I write today to give a glowing report on the dollar movies--it only cost $4.50 to take my entire family to the movies last night. That is a count of 9 people. Monday's are .50 days at the dollar shows. Huge bargain.
And I didn't write to say that the movie 'Enchanted' is, well, enchanting. (It is a really cute show though...definitely one that we will buy when it comes out on DVD)
And I certainly didn't write to share my observation on how I can GAIN weight and then people will mention how thin I am starting to look--I've decided that it must be a reverse psychology thing. That, or they are frightened by my increase in weight and instead of telling the truth--"Holy Toledo! Your butt is getting H-U-G-E!"--they panic and say the exact opposite.
Oh, and I didn't decide to write about how my 15 year-old daughter was in seminary and her teacher told the class that people shouldn't kiss unless they want to marry that person. So she went up to his desk later and told him that her parents have told her that they don't want her to marry the only person she ever kisses--and the teacher responded loudly enough to her questioning that now all of her classmates think Doug and are are pretty darn cool. Even though we didn't really mean it the way she made it sound.
Speaking of that subject though, I must throw in that I loved Aimee's friend's $1000 idea (see the comments in my Valentine's post for the explaination). I mentioned it to my 15 year-old and she wanted to know if I could do the same thing but pay her if she makes it to 16 without kissing a boy. I laughed and laughed and told her no way, no how. That she will owe ME $1000 if she kisses a boy before she is 16. :) But that isn't what I wanted to write about either.
Hmmm.
Let me think....
Nope. I really have nothing of interest to write about today, but really wanted to say something. Maybe something will come to me later. Or not.
I might not write often, but no one can say that my rambling skills have in anyway diminished.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy Valentine's Day
Ah, me. Love.
It comes in all forms and sizes. Depths and emotions. Valentine's throws red hearts and chocolate candies to the consumers. Hallmark and the FTD florists hope to make a killing.
It changes. It grows. It diminishes. All depending on the person in love, the person who is the recipient of the love, or the reason's for the love.
When I was seven I 'loved' Adam Cartwright. Oldest son on Bonanza. Enough so, that I actually got Purnell Roberts' (the actor who portrayed him) record. Did you know he was a singer? Most people know him as Trapper John, M.D., but I loved him as the young, dark haired cowboy. A hero in my young eyes. My sister liked Little Joe, but not me. I liked the dark brooding type over the cute flash Michael Landon played. (By the way, Purnell's rendition of the Christmas hymn, 'Do You Hear What I Hear' was decent, but I don't remember liking any of his other songs...)
When I was in high school I had a secret crush on a guy who was a year older than me. Another dark, good-looking, quiet type. I don't think I ever spoke two words to him, but I remember looking forward to catching a glimpse of him in the halls at the school. He wasn't a soccer player, he wasn't in band...there just wasn't any common ground there for me to even attempt a 'hello', so I figured it was hopeless and he would probably not notice me anyway, so I just oogled and chalked it up to teen infatuation.
But that put me in the mood for being in love. So I made the mistake of dating J. Bowers. I didn't ever really like the guy. He liked beef ravioli from a can, wore too much Elsha cologne and was pretty much a dullard in my book...but he filled a brief curiosity that soon wore thin and I kindly broke up with him. Hoping beyond hope that not all boys were like him.
I dated Mike C. after that, which was pretty much doomed for failure from the beginning. First and foremostly because the man had blonde hair. I realized with him, that even with his superiority complex and his lame excuses for being another jerk (although in different ways than Bowers), I couldn't get over the blonde thing. So in order to break up with him, I turned myself into the biggest airhead I could because I knew that being brainless would send him running the other direction since his joy in life was reading the Trib, and throwing big words into small sentences.
(The clincher for him, by the way, was when he poured out his heart to me about how rotten his life was--I could hear violins in the background--and he got frustrated with me (I guess I wasn't being sympathetic enough or saying the right comforting phrases), and asked "Doesn't ANYTHING bother you??" and I said, "Yes, peanut M&M's without the peanut." (Seriously...you buy the yellow bag of candy because it has peanuts in it, if I wanted a solid chocolate M&M, I would have grabbed the brown bag...sheesh). Sometimes at night I think I can still hear the screetching of tires as he ran away from me as fast as he could....)
After these few experiences with love, infatuation, irritation, learning about boys who wish they were men...I gained new perspectives, decided most guys had jerk tendencies, and realized I was really good at having guys think it was THEIR idea to break up. Which makes it all nice and tidy. It became a skill, like anything else.
With all that, I remember that when dating my now-husband and then leaving on a mission..I found out he was seeing someone else and I wasn't hurt so much as shocked that he would think anyone was as cool as me. So apparently none of the previous relationships I had did any lingering damage to my ego. I came home from said mission and became friends again with now-husband and eventually he regained his senses and realized there WASN'T anyone as cool as me, so he married me. Isn't he the lucky one? ;)
So now, as a married woman who has teenaged daughters, I start to wonder what craziness they will have to endure before they finally get to that stage of finding the person they love enough to think eternity is a good idea.
I've warned them that most guys their age are, well, jerks. And guaranteed them that at some point in their life a boy (or three) will make them cry. But my oldest daughter still has romantic notions and I know wishes that she could have her very own 'valentine' this year. No one specific--so she says--but the idea is starting to look interesting to her.
Makes me a bit nervous. I'm not looking forward to my daughter's first heartbreak. I'm looking less forward to her first real boyfriend and all the worries that come along with that.
But no one can dodge Cupid's arrows for long. I just wish Cupid would wait until my kids are twenty-five before aiming their direction.
It comes in all forms and sizes. Depths and emotions. Valentine's throws red hearts and chocolate candies to the consumers. Hallmark and the FTD florists hope to make a killing.
It changes. It grows. It diminishes. All depending on the person in love, the person who is the recipient of the love, or the reason's for the love.
When I was seven I 'loved' Adam Cartwright. Oldest son on Bonanza. Enough so, that I actually got Purnell Roberts' (the actor who portrayed him) record. Did you know he was a singer? Most people know him as Trapper John, M.D., but I loved him as the young, dark haired cowboy. A hero in my young eyes. My sister liked Little Joe, but not me. I liked the dark brooding type over the cute flash Michael Landon played. (By the way, Purnell's rendition of the Christmas hymn, 'Do You Hear What I Hear' was decent, but I don't remember liking any of his other songs...)
When I was in high school I had a secret crush on a guy who was a year older than me. Another dark, good-looking, quiet type. I don't think I ever spoke two words to him, but I remember looking forward to catching a glimpse of him in the halls at the school. He wasn't a soccer player, he wasn't in band...there just wasn't any common ground there for me to even attempt a 'hello', so I figured it was hopeless and he would probably not notice me anyway, so I just oogled and chalked it up to teen infatuation.
But that put me in the mood for being in love. So I made the mistake of dating J. Bowers. I didn't ever really like the guy. He liked beef ravioli from a can, wore too much Elsha cologne and was pretty much a dullard in my book...but he filled a brief curiosity that soon wore thin and I kindly broke up with him. Hoping beyond hope that not all boys were like him.
I dated Mike C. after that, which was pretty much doomed for failure from the beginning. First and foremostly because the man had blonde hair. I realized with him, that even with his superiority complex and his lame excuses for being another jerk (although in different ways than Bowers), I couldn't get over the blonde thing. So in order to break up with him, I turned myself into the biggest airhead I could because I knew that being brainless would send him running the other direction since his joy in life was reading the Trib, and throwing big words into small sentences.
(The clincher for him, by the way, was when he poured out his heart to me about how rotten his life was--I could hear violins in the background--and he got frustrated with me (I guess I wasn't being sympathetic enough or saying the right comforting phrases), and asked "Doesn't ANYTHING bother you??" and I said, "Yes, peanut M&M's without the peanut." (Seriously...you buy the yellow bag of candy because it has peanuts in it, if I wanted a solid chocolate M&M, I would have grabbed the brown bag...sheesh). Sometimes at night I think I can still hear the screetching of tires as he ran away from me as fast as he could....)
After these few experiences with love, infatuation, irritation, learning about boys who wish they were men...I gained new perspectives, decided most guys had jerk tendencies, and realized I was really good at having guys think it was THEIR idea to break up. Which makes it all nice and tidy. It became a skill, like anything else.
With all that, I remember that when dating my now-husband and then leaving on a mission..I found out he was seeing someone else and I wasn't hurt so much as shocked that he would think anyone was as cool as me. So apparently none of the previous relationships I had did any lingering damage to my ego. I came home from said mission and became friends again with now-husband and eventually he regained his senses and realized there WASN'T anyone as cool as me, so he married me. Isn't he the lucky one? ;)
So now, as a married woman who has teenaged daughters, I start to wonder what craziness they will have to endure before they finally get to that stage of finding the person they love enough to think eternity is a good idea.
I've warned them that most guys their age are, well, jerks. And guaranteed them that at some point in their life a boy (or three) will make them cry. But my oldest daughter still has romantic notions and I know wishes that she could have her very own 'valentine' this year. No one specific--so she says--but the idea is starting to look interesting to her.
Makes me a bit nervous. I'm not looking forward to my daughter's first heartbreak. I'm looking less forward to her first real boyfriend and all the worries that come along with that.
But no one can dodge Cupid's arrows for long. I just wish Cupid would wait until my kids are twenty-five before aiming their direction.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Don't Push Your Luck
As some of you may or may not know...my suburban's license plates expired in February.
Of '07.
Yes, it is now '08, so I am a year past due. The longest I've ever gone without licensing my car.
Too late to knock on wood...
Driving the kids home from school on Thursday I started thinking to myself, "Self, you should take the car to get the State safety and Emmissions test done and just register this car so you can stop panicking every time you see a patrol car." (You should see some of the detours I've taken when a police car has pulled behind me...)
Not two minutes after that nice talking-to I gave myself, I heard a "whoop-whoop" behind me, and sure enough...an unmarked patrol car was happily pulling me over.
JD freaked. He thought I was going to go to jail.
So I got a ticket for the expired license.
I took the kids home and told Doug about it and he said, "I'll just take it right now and get it licensed for you."
(The nice man...what a guy :) )
So off he goes.
And 20 minutes later calls me because he just got pulled over and handed his own lovely ticket for an expired license.
We go an entire year with no problem. And then get two tickets in one day. Brilliant.
The good news is that I am now the proud owner of a blue '09 sticker on my plates...so I am current on the license. For at least another year.
Of '07.
Yes, it is now '08, so I am a year past due. The longest I've ever gone without licensing my car.
Too late to knock on wood...
Driving the kids home from school on Thursday I started thinking to myself, "Self, you should take the car to get the State safety and Emmissions test done and just register this car so you can stop panicking every time you see a patrol car." (You should see some of the detours I've taken when a police car has pulled behind me...)
Not two minutes after that nice talking-to I gave myself, I heard a "whoop-whoop" behind me, and sure enough...an unmarked patrol car was happily pulling me over.
JD freaked. He thought I was going to go to jail.
So I got a ticket for the expired license.
I took the kids home and told Doug about it and he said, "I'll just take it right now and get it licensed for you."
(The nice man...what a guy :) )
So off he goes.
And 20 minutes later calls me because he just got pulled over and handed his own lovely ticket for an expired license.
We go an entire year with no problem. And then get two tickets in one day. Brilliant.
The good news is that I am now the proud owner of a blue '09 sticker on my plates...so I am current on the license. For at least another year.
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