...just because

Every time I see one of those trucks on the road that have big letters CFI painted on the side, it makes me wish I could paint the word "care" behind it.

Doggies

Why can't dogs entertain themselves? Well... at least in a way that I approve of? Sure they can dig in the trash and chew on something for an entertainment, but I do not approve of those things. Why do they follow me around everywhere I go? And why are they so darned optimistic? I can go into the kitchen a hundred times (which I do every day) and they will follow me in there every single time in hopes that I will give them something out of the fridge.

Howdy

I hope this works, I don't know what I'm doing. I swiped my son's camera after Mallory used it this past weekend. She had to interview her grandpa and grandma about WWII for a history project. So I've uploaded videos to YouTube now, can you believe it?

Something I don’t understand about any diet I’ve ever been on: When they put grapefruit on a diet, a serving is always HALF a grapefruit. Good grief, how much is it going to hurt me to eat the whole thing? Is it going to push me over the limit on calories that day?

Oh and speaking of counting calories, I'm unsure of which day to put the midnight snack on. Does it count as the day before, therefore it’s in my past and I can forgive myself and forget about it? Or do I count it as my upcoming day? Or divide them fifty-fifty?

I swear to Cod I won't tell.

I sent a friend of mine an email once and asked her to keep it confidential. She wrote back to me that she promised not to tell a sole. Now I have to wonder... is this a loophole in getting around having to keep a good, juicy secret? By pretending to swear not to tell, but technically she’s not going to tell a fish. Or the bottom of a shoe?

Hey, I’m halfway to realizing my dream of becoming an eccentric millionaire. No, I don’t have $500,000.00. I just meant that I’ve got the eccentric part down pat.

I'm only trying to help...

I wonder if my neighbors appreciate all the trouble I go through to keep my lawn looking so shabby. I only do this for their benefit. Just being near mine will always make their yards look great.

Well, truthfully, it’s not that much trouble, but it’s the thought that counts.

What's Behind Door Number 2

Ok imagine a bathroom with 5 stalls. You're comfortably seated in the first stall minding your own "business" when a woman enters the restroom, goes directly into the second stall, and takes a big poo.

Now it happens that I was the person in that first stall. And I thought to myself, "How rude! If I were her, I would have gone down to the last stall to do that!"

Being the kind of person who likes confirmation that I'm always right, I asked an authority later that evening: "Mallory, If you had to poo at school, and someone was already in the first stall, would you sit RIGHT BY THEM to do that, or go down to a stall as far away as you could?"

She answered that she would, indeed choose the stall inches away from the first occupant.

"WHY?" I asked, horrified – in my best "where did I go wrong in raising you?" tone of voice.

"Because if someone else walked in, they wouldn't know which one of us was taking the poo."

Back when I was married, my husband made a rude comment about the scent of my hair. I had just been to the hair salon for my annual haircut. The stylist had used some lovely smelling Aveda shampoo and conditioner. I loved the aroma, and whipped my hair around and remarked at least 150 times about how wonderful it was, "Doesn't it smell good? SMELL it!"

"It smells like dog shampoo", was his reply.

So knowing he didn't like it, I immediately bought a gallon of each: shampoo and conditioner. And made sure to wash my hair with them EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

Today is the one year anniversary of our divorce, and it just occurred to me to wonder... Did he mean it smelled like dog shampoo BEFORE, or AFTER it touched wet dog fur?

Memory Tip

I thought of a great idea for my new camera phone - other than the 32 pictures of the cats that I've already taken. See, I have a really hard time remembering what size home air filter to buy. I always think I can remember, until I actually get to the store and get dizzy from all the choices. Some people might suggest that I write it down. Jotting down the numbers on a scrap of paper is good for one-time use only - assuming I head immediately for the store with it stapled to my shirt. Anyway, I only ever think about buying a new air filter on special occasions - like when I'm totally bored and feel like walking down every aisle of the grocery store or Wal-Mart. So see, that doesn't happen very often. I actually think I'm purty durn smart to come up with this idea. I don't care if someone has already thought of it, I'm still smart, I tell you! Now this would have come in really handy back when I had a husband that was nagged kind enough to run to the store and fetch feminine hygiene products for me. Apparently the choices down that aisle are much more overwhelming than the air filter section!

Wonder How This Ended???

Good Lord, Mother!

Put the camera down!

It's 1962, there is no "America's Funniest Videos" - come help me before I pull this down on my head!

Don't Fan it MY Way...

Mom? Do cats...? Whew! Never mind! I found out the answer!

Scanner Fun Part 2 (OK I'll Stop For Now Before I Get Carried Away)

I don't want to hear any more of this "boys rule, girls drool BS. And stop looking at the TV when I'm talking to you! If you boys want to wake up alive in the morning you will let me in that stupid tent!"

Fun With The Scanner

"Mom, I love the Ghostbuster tape you bought me, I've watched it 14,000 times. So you're telling me that if I suck up all that gray stuff with this Proton Pack I'll catch Slimer?"





"Yeah right, Mom! I think you're blowing smoke up my @$$ - this will never work without the Ecto Goggles!"

It's All or Nothin'

Friend: "Remember when you used to have that stretching routine?"

Me: "Oh yeah, I was so faithful and diligent about it! Then suddenly dropped it like I've done everything else my whole life.

Friend: "Well, at least you're consistent."

BabyGirl Emailed A Picture To Me From Her Cell Phone

The good news is, I really like my daughter's new hair color. The bad news is, I am not 100% sure that is her. That does look like the inside of my car, so the best news is that she had her seatbelt on.

My friends and I were all up late one night sharing childbirth horror stories with the youngest woman in our group. Well, heck she was expecting her first baby; I think that is an open invitation to discuss episiotomies and fourteen day labors. But I got what I deserved. I went to bed thinking of epidurals, woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't feel anything from my waist down.

Growing up Ivy

I wasn't a very good babysitter as a teenager. Oh, I wasn't terrible, I mean I didn't eat up all the food, or have a boyfriend (snort, ha ha!) over, or spend the whole night on the phone. No, my biggest problem was my inability to stay awake if the kids weren't. One father while driving me home late at night asked me if I had fallen asleep. This was back before hidden cameras were common, so I was pretty sure he couldn't prove it. But something told me I'd better tell the truth and I did. Then he said, “I was just wondering because you have an imprint of the TV Guide on your face”.

Overheard On The Elevator:

"Hey, maybe I'll win the lottery and I can take a trip to Europe."

"Aaacckkk! Why in the world would anyone want to go to Europe? I'd much rather go to Italy!"

Puzzling Observation

I was sitting on the bus, headed to work, busy with my Penny Press Variety puzzle book. I love the laddergrams and the anacrostics, but was busy at the time working on some good old cryptograms.

When the bus arrived downtown, the lady sitting next to me said, "Excuse me...." It was fairly obvious that she was impressed with my great intelligence and was very likely about to ask me how in the world I could do those puzzles so fast, and in pen!!!

And then she continued: "I thought you should know that your shirt is inside-out."

First I Was Afraid; I Was Petrified; Kept Thinking I Could Never Live if You Said, "Let Me Drive"....

Current on life insurance policy - CHECK
Current on car insurance premiums - CHECK
Passenger side airbag activated - CHECK
Wearing clean underwear - CHECK

OK, I'm ready to start teaching my daughter to drive.

Happy Birthday!

To my darling daughter Mallory, who is now 15; and to my friend Peter, who is a tad older than Mallory.

Where Has All My Money Gone? It Ran Away With My Memory

My billfold has this strange Bermuda Triangle-like phenomenon going on. For example, sometimes I might go to pay for something and then ask myself, "Where's that 10 dollar bill that was in here?" After applying intense interrogation methods to determine the guilty party (I grill each of the usual suspects one by one: my son, my daughter, then the dog) - I try to recall every item I have purchased since the money was last seen. This is no easy task. When I start recalling different events, I keep distracting myself, interrupting myself, and just generally getting so sidetracked in my thoughts that I don't even remember what I was trying to bring to mind. But really, I guess that’s a whole other story…

You Can Make Your Son Help Remodel The Bathroom, But You Can't Prevent Him From Mocking Your Attempts To Document The Progress With A Camera

Hey, 14

I wonder if other people have a favorite substitute number that they use, like I do, for situations where the real number is not known, or is just not important. Mine is 14. Not necessarily my favorite number in the world (that’s number 8), but it’s my catch-all, works in every situation number. For example, I may say that I tried to call you fourteen times last night. The number can change depending on the degree of the exaggeration, like I may say that the water bill was fourteen hundred dollars this month, or that I have asked the kids to pick up their wet towels fourteen thousand times, or that I've consumed fourteen billion calories today. But in order for it to qualify as a favorite substitute number, the base number has to always stay the same.

TV Commercials That Get on My Nerves

The Citibank commercial where the guy won't even bother to hang up the phone when his food is catches on fire. He tries to move the burning pan off the stove with a broom. What a dork. Get a cordless phone or hang up, doofus. (but I do like the commercial where the guy is on the train and has to repeat his password: "BIG BOY" louder)

Lamisil. When that cartoon creature "Digger" (pictured above) crawls under the big toenail, I get up and leave the room.

The commercial where they try to get you to call in for a great brochure to go to a school that teaches you how to make great brochures... a wonderful new career. Then they introduce the operator who will take your calls. If it's such a great career, why isn't she doing it, instead of answering the phone?

And finally, any commercial that has the words "ask your doctor about..." without giving me a hint of what it's for.

Slurpee or Icee

OK, the other day I passed by Mrs. Field's and ordered an Icee. How long have they been selling Icees? I have no clue. But one day I was passing by there and I heard some teenage girls squeal, "Icees!". (I had never noticed.) So of course it stuck in my mind and eventually I had to buy one. It brought back great childhood memories. But now I can't remember which one it was that I used to get as a kid: Slurpee, or Icee? I remember walking down the road with my sister and we would buy one and drink it on the way home. One day we drank ours, PLUS the one that was meant for our baby brother. Hey - better to drink it and bring him NOTHING than bring him home one that was sadly melted...

It's just bugging me to know which one I got as a kid. I'm 44 years old now, that was when I lived in Louisiana, so the oldest I could have been was 8 because we moved from there after my second grade year. I guess I could research them both and see which product has been around as long as dirt... er.... I mean me. I also could just say "screw it, who cares which one it was?" - but that's just not my style.

It's Not Even My Birthday!

Look what my DF (dear friend) got me, "just because!"

This should keep me occupied for a long time.

I Met "aka Monty"!

I met Monty, the famous blogger from The Daily Bitch! And I even got her autograph! Well, technically, I stole her driver's license from her purse while she was in the restroom, but hey - it has her signature on it! And it would have come in real handy if I'd been pulled over on the way home.

Sure was a fun night, and don't believe a word Jules says about it!

OK, I'm off to bed. I know, I'm a lightweight, but I had to get home and get to sleep.

Before and After

My $20 garage-sale find. My $20 billion vacation project.

Almost exactly two years ago, I was in a fund-raising event called the MS150. It is an annual event, and takes place in many different cities. This particular event (at that time) was a bicycle ride from Dallas, up across the Red River into Oklahoma for a grand total of 150 miles. It took place on a Saturday and Sunday in May with the option to camp at a state park in Oklahoma. All for the good cause of raising money for Multiple Sclerosis. This was a great experience, and I personally raised about $4,000 for the charity. This particular year that I participated set a record for having the worst weather EVER for this event. People WAY fitter, and much more serious about cycling dropped out after the first 20 miles, since they were extremely cold. Hey, my body fat came in quite handy that day. Because I've been too lazy busy to write the last week or so, I have copied and pasted a letter that I wrote to the people that I had been hitting up for money before the event.

Dear Friends,

I just wanted to let you know that I survived my weekend bicycle ride, and I want to tell you about the experience.

What's the big idea calling this the MS150 ride? It should be called the MS160.3 ride - that's what my odometer said after the 2 day journey!

Day 1: My husband booted me and my gear out of his warm, dry pickup in Plano at 6 a.m. Saturday morning. It was very cold, raining, and the wind was strong and coming from the north. I rode for many miles in the rain, squinting from it splashing in my eyes and my feet, legs, and gloves were soaking wet. Even after the rain stopped it took a very long time for my shoes to go from sloshing to just damp. The lunch stop was in an elementary school where we were served Subway sandwiches. I overheard many people saying they were going to "sag" to the end. In fact, I guess that the organizers expected so many people to catch a ride from there, that they had about 3 school buses ready to haul people away. I was really beginning to worry when I heard several people that looked in much better shape than me say that they were quitting for the day. Many of them talked about the upcoming hills and being so cold. They were tired of fighting the wind. One of the volunteer motorcyclists said she'd been helping with this event for 18 years and that this was the worst year ever as far as weather was concerned. Every "sag wagon" that had passed me up to this point had a "full" sign in the window. I couldn't have quit if I'd wanted to. The MS150 organization's website called this ride a "2-day party on wheels" I felt like Private Benjamin when she showed up for boot camp and pulled her drill sergeant aside to explain "this is not the Army I signed up for." I signed up for the bike ride with the nice, warm weather where I can work on my tan. I signed up for the bike ride where the rest stops have Lazy-Boy recliners and good looking guys rubbing my legs while someone refills my water bottle with a refreshing margarita. That is MY idea of a 2-day party on wheels. OK, enough whining, I decided that I did not want to quit, I was determined to finish the miles on this first day. But I had this big fear of being alone out there on the country roads, lost for days. With my poor sense of direction and wandering mind, it really was a valid concern. The sun made its first appearance when I was about 5 miles from the first day's finish line. At least I finally had my shadow to keep me company! After crossing the finish line, they served me a big plate of hot spaghetti. Even though I'd eaten at every single rest stop along the way and wasn't a bit hungry, it was so appealing to have warm food. My husband and daughter whisked me away to a hotel for the night (CAMP and TENT are four letter words as far as I'm concerned).

Day 2: Beautiful sunshine right from the start. It was quite an experience when they closed off the bridge so that all 1,900 of us cyclists could cross the Red River at the same time. The weather was nice, the scenery was awesome, but Susan was slow. At lunch on the second day, some of my teammates were patiently waiting for me to show up. When I finally arrived, one of them said, "Susan, I was worried about you!" I said, "You should be! I'm going so slow the buzzards are circling over me. I just hope I have the strength to fight them off!" On one hill I hit an all time low of 3 miles per hour - I didn't even know you could keep a bike upright at that speed. I'll never forget the 75 year old woman who smiled sweetly as she passed me and soon became just a dot on the horizon. Speaking of being left in the dust…for safety and courtesy, riders always announced "ON YOUR LEFT" as they passed. After awhile I felt like snarling at each one, "Yeah? Who ISN'T?" A teammate said that if I was so tired of hearing "on your left" I should crowd that side so they'd be forced to pass me on the right. I had a flat tire 16 miles from the finish. It was bound to happen as I had bragged earlier in the ride that I'd NEVER had a flat tire. On the plus side, five men stopped to help me! Oh wait, let's be honest. ONE man stopped to help me, then four of HIS teammates thought HE was down, so they stopped to help HIM! It took a mechanic from the roving Richardson Bike Mart van, though, to help me out as I needed a new inner tube and a new tire. He very kindly oiled my chain and adjusted a brake for me, too while he was there. I finally crossed the finish line - greeted by cheers from the volunteers and some great 70's music.

I am only kidding around, folks, I'm not really as negative as I may sound. I'm just trying to be funny. The truth is that I had a wonderful time - even on Saturday. It was exciting to be in that crowd of people, it was fun to be a part of the big event. And I know that I am very fortunate to be healthy enough to complete a trip like this. I have to be honest and tell you that I originally chose this event because it would be physically challenging for me. Only after I signed up for it did I start to realize how many people I knew that have Multiple Sclerosis or have family or friends affected by this disease. I really thought people would donate money for ME, because they are: a) proud of me, b) friends with me, or c) afraid I'll beat them up. Turns out it was d) none of the above. I received the most money from people who donated for the right reason - because the money goes to help people with Multiple Sclerosis. And these are the people I thought of every time I struggled up a hill.

Things I learned:

o Volunteers are very special people.
o Hills are good, because there's a side of them that allows you to rest, catch your breath and really enjoy the view.
o Falling off your bike is not quite as embarrassing as I'd imagined it would be (but just as painful as I expected).

For those of you who like numbers, here are a few statistics:

o The first day time from start to finish: 11 hours. Distance covered: 95+ miles.
o The second day time from start to finish: 8.5 hours. Distance covered: 65+ miles.
o Number of rest stops serving refreshments: 11. Pounds gained: 3.