February 28, 2006

Do You Ever.....

...dig in your purse, or a drawer for so long, you can't remember what you were looking for?

...bet yourself $10 something is going to happen, and then remember that you're a deadbeat, and you'll never pay up?

February 26, 2006

Growing Up Ivy - Part 4

Remember what it was like learning to drive? Before I was old enough for my permit, I convinced my Granny to let me "drive the rest of the way home, oh please, oh, please, oh please!" She had a giant Pontiac and once behind the wheel, I thought it seemed like it took up the entire road. We were off the main road, and although this one was paved - it was chock-full of pot-holes. I really, at that time (and sometimes still based on the number of curbs I hit) had no idea exactly where the tires were. So I tried very carefully to miss the potholes, but instead hit almost every one. Granny sat beside me cringing. Finally I guess she just resigned herself to the fact that I suck at driving and she began shouting: "Bulls-eye!" each time I sunk a wheel into a hole.

I finally did get a learner's permit, and mother let me drive her into town. This was when we lived in Oklahoma (Grandpa's Lake) after my dad's retirement from the Air Force. It was the most "country" place I'd ever lived in. So we had far to go into town, and mom letting me drive meant I got to drive on an actual highway! As I was driving along, we saw a turtle crossing the road. It was just at a point where I knew I couldn't swerve to the right, not enough road left on that side, so I decided I would swerve a little to the left and "straddle" it. He'd just think a big shadow crossed his path for a moment, right? I didn't discuss any of this with mom, it just all happened so fast. Hopefully it was a quick death for him, because I ended up running right over him. My mother made a funny little noise and she turned to me with this look of horror on her face, like I was a monster and she said, "If I EVER see you go OUT OF YOUR WAY to kill an animal again..."

I don't think I ever quite convinced her that I was not that evil. I couldn't believe she thought I'd really do that on purpose!

February 24, 2006

Cowboy George

This is my cat. His name is Cowboy George. No, his name has nothing to do with the president. Totally different George he is named for. In fact, he was named after a dog. I am only posting this picture for one reason: I just read someone's blog who said people who post pictures of their cats suck. (well, there is one other reason: I couldn't think of anything to say tonight)

And THIS...

This is Cowboy George's water bowl. That blue thing occupying the bowl is Captain Fantastic. For some reason he seems to think it's his home.

February 23, 2006

Those darn Girl Scouts , blasted little Brownie's and their rotten cookies. Why is it I think I have to buy a gazillion boxes from them every year? And why do I feel compelled to eat the cookies morning, noon, and night? Arrrgggh.

Today I picked up lunch from Taco Bell. Got back to my desk, looked at my receipt and saw that the girl had given me the "senior discount". Yes! Saved me 31 cents! (I probably looked like a senior to HER)

February 21, 2006

Look What My Sister Can Do

She took one of my favorite childhood photos (I'm the one standing) and painted it for me. This is how it looks now, hanging on my living room wall. We were throwing rocks in "Grandpa's Lake". It was actually Grand Lake O' The Cherokees in northeastern Oklahoma, but as we went there every year to visit our grandpa and granny, we called it "Grandpa's Lake."

February 22nd is my sister Jules' birthday. If you go see her, speak up, cuz she's really getting up there in years!

Happy Birthday, Jules!

February 17, 2006

I Have My Orders

Tonight I was instructed by my daughter not to speak again. In fact, here is an exact quote: "Don't talk, Mother. You are not allowed to speak; you have just out-dumbed yourself."

Simply because I was trying to tell her about a show that fascinated me. I said, "It's a home improvement show, and they showed... ummmm... homes being improved."

(but she didn't say I had to stop typing!)

February 14, 2006

Growing Up Ivy - Part 3 (Special Valentine's Edition)

When I started the 5th grade, school had already been in session for a few days. All the desks in the classroom were arranged like a big square around the room with everyone facing the center. I was assigned a chair and introduced to the class. Straight across from me sat a very cute boy who leaned over and whispered to the person next to him. That person leaned over and whispered to the next, and so on until I got this message: "Will you go with me (from Jay)?" I asked the person next to me: "Go where?" He looked at me as if I might be a little on the slow side (a look I have seen quite often in my lifetime and is easily recognizable after awhile) and he said, "go steady with him!" So I pretended to know what that meant and said OK. Word traveled back around to the dreamy Jay, who then passed a ring around the room for me. (I only had to glue the stone back in it once in our three-day relationship) The only time that I talked to Jay in this sudden romance was when we went on a field trip. He used my back to put his paper on to write notes, and I used his. Other than that, I never spoke to the guy. Keep in mind that a couple of short months later there would be snow on the ground and I would be crawling around on my hands and knees with my best friend saying "meow" and pawing at each other playing like we were kitties. I might have been a bit too immature for a steady boyfriend. I received the message one day on the playground from Sheri that Jay wanted his ring back (oh, did his big sister miss it from her jewelry box finally?) "Why?" I asked. "Because he's breaking up with you." "Oh. OK, here." Later I got the nerve to ask Sheri why Jay broke up with me. "Because you never kissed him." Oh. I didn't know I was supposed to.

February 13, 2006

Sorry, I Can't Resist

Don't hate me for this, I couldn't resist. A friend sent me thirteen hilarious pictures in an email titled: 13 Reasons Not to Drink With "Friends"

This was one of the pictures that I SO wish I'd had available for THIS post: CLICK HERE!

Just remember: True friends tell their friends when the tampon string is showing.

February 11, 2006

Growing Up Ivy - Part 2

Childhood memory from 3rd or 4th grade. We lived on an Air Force base in Michigan - Kincheloe I think was the name of it, but I am not sure if it is still there. We were in the Upper Peninsula, and would sometimes go to Sault Ste. Marie to go shopping. I had been saving for a "Chrissy" doll that I had seen on a previous trip. Chrissy had a cute little bob hairstyle with a ponytail sticking out of the top. If you pushed a button on her tummy and pulled the ponytail, it would "grow" past the length of her dress! I could make it short again by turning a dial on her back.

I remember getting really cocky because I had managed to save up even more money than I needed for my Chrissy doll. So feeling generous I started giving money away. Some to my little brother, and then even to some company that mom and dad had over. I just walked up and handed them some change. They said, "Oh, keep your money, we don't want your money!" I remember feeling very proud and insisting that they keep it because I had "more than enough!"

Then came the day when we went to the dime store. Mom and dad let me go to the toy section by myself while the rest of the family looked in different departments. This is my first memory of not having to be right by my parents' sides at the store. I walked Chrissy up to the counter and tried to pay for her, but did not have enough money. I was mortified. I had felt so mature, and wonderful for saving so much money. All that change carefully counted, and spread out all over the counter and the girl told me it wasn't enough. At first I just stood there dumbstruck, and finally got around to pointing to the price tag. That is when I got my first lesson about sales tax. And possibly (though I never asked) why my family decided I could be allowed to make the purchase on my own. A lesson sticks a little better when there's a little bit of worry and embarrassment to go along with it. I frantically searched for my dad who bailed me out with some change. He did ask me, though why I was needing money as he'd seen me before giving some away.

I'd like to say that I learned a valuable lesson about money... well, I did. But applying that lesson is a different story.

The End.*

*Here is an alternate ending to the story for Old Hoss's sake:

My parents had planned this whole event of letting me make my purchase alone. I had assumed they wanted me to feel more "grown up", but instead it was a plot to ditch me. At 8 p.m. when the store was closing and my family was still nowhere to be found, I left the store empty handed, and walked the 20 miles back to base through the snow. Only to find out that the family had moved. It took me quite awhile, but I caught up to them eventually in South Dakota. Boy were they surprised to see me on their doorstep!

February 10, 2006

Growing Up Ivy - Part 1

I am stealing ideas. I got the above title a long time ago from FTS . He suggested it to me for something - I can't remember what - but I liked the title and it got stuck in the back of my mind (and also in my draft posts). I just didn't know what to do with it until today.

I got another idea from
Carlos, who posts a "Memory Du Jour" below many of his entries. Since I haven't felt much like writing lately, I'm just going to relate a childhood memory each day until I get out of this funk. Only I'm going to cleverly disguise mine with a slightly different title so I won't be a complete copycat.

No guarantee that anything I remember will be hilarious, or even funny. Especially no guarantee that there will be a point to the story. I'm just recording random childhood memories, that's all.

Today's "Memory of the Day":

We lived in Bossier City, Louisiana. I think I was in the second grade, which would have made my baby brother about 4 years old. Granny and Grandpa let us ride in the back of their camper up to the department store with them. Leaving the Gibson's parking lot, I pointed out the back of the camper, and said to my brother, "Hey, isn't that mom and dad?" I knew full well that I was tricking him, but had no idea what the consequences would be. He ran for the back door to look out at the same time that Grandpa stepped on the gas and pulled the truck out onto the road. Little brother hit the door handle, kind of like a storm door that you just push the latch, and the door flew open. Mikey fell out onto the pavement as Granny and Grandpa drove on unaware. I banged on the window between us, but there were really TWO windows. That of the camper, and the one to the back of the pickup. Apparently they could hear me, because Granny turned around with an evil glare and told me to shut up and sit down. I read her lips. Oh yeah, and her arm pointing at me violently indicating that I should sit.

But someone managed to get their attention (I guess some other driver) because they pulled back in to the Gibson's parking lot to collect my baby brother from the ground, shrieking and wailing.

We took him home for mom to clean him up, and it turned out that he had two busted lips with little bits of gravel embedded in them. I remember that what amazed me the most was that even though his jaw trembled with the crying and sobbing, every now and then he would chomp a bit more on the chewing-gum that had managed to stay in his mouth.

February 09, 2006

Ever have someone ask you what's your most embarrassing moment? Who really answers that question truthfully? Think about it. We all have embarrassing moments that we can share as amusing anecdotes once we’re able to laugh about them. Heck, I could write a book! But if you've ever had an embarrassing moment that when you think about it to this day, your face gets hot and your tummy does flips, who's ever going to reveal that?

February 08, 2006

Pretty Cool :)

Stole this from Cheryl at Mad Baggage.

Close, But No Cigar...

But this time, I'm not crying. One more piece of notarized paper, and a slight revision to one of my documents and the fat lady will sing.

February 07, 2006

I haven't been saying much lately. Haven't felt much like writing. In one and a half hours I will be standing in front of the judge again to see if my divorce will go through. My husband asked me not to post anything about him or our divorce online any more, but right now he doesn't have internet access, so I'm taking a chance. He doesn't like the settlement, but finally went ahead and signed it just to get it all over with. For those of you who've been through a divorce, I have a question: Can anybody ever really be happy with their settlement? You can't take 1 and divide it by 2 and have each person still end up with 1. I wish it would have been this hard to get married. It would be much easier to work on something this difficult when you're young, energetic, and madly in love with the person. Now it's all bitter, and hateful, and unfair - and it gets tiring working on this. There are so many ways you can juggle all the numbers for the assets and the debts. Remember, I started this last year! Click here if you started reading after November 1st. I have spent so much time and energy on this, saving us thousands of dollars on legal fees. Trying to look out for myself, yet be as fair as I possibly can - only to be told I'm selfish and greedy as he signed the paperwork. Oh well, if this doesn't go through today, I will break down and hire a lawyer. Maybe the one I consulted with that put me off because he seemed to want my husband living under a bridge in a cardboard box that he could barely afford. Might be the only way I can prove just how fair I've been!

February 05, 2006

The Bitch is Back

February 02, 2006

I love so many kinds of music that I can't really say what genre I like. So I've been listening to this "Launchcast" thingy from yahoo - it lets me create my own "station" of what I like.

I could only think of a few artists to include on my playlist when I first signed up. Based on my selections, Launchcast tries to guess what other music I would like. For the record (ha ha, a musical pun... if you're old enough to remember what a record is) just because I like a particular song doesn't mean I will like everything that artist puts out.

When they play a song, I can click on any one of these, to rate it:

  • never play again
  • it's ok
  • like it
  • love it
  • can't get enough

Oh gosh. I realized (again) how really retarded I am. I hate to click on the "never play again" or the "it's ok" because I might hurt its feelings. Whose feelings? It's all about me, it's MY STATION! That's what they call it: MY STATION.

It's like how when I go to the grocery store and pick up an apple to inspect. Then I find it has a bruise, or an imperfection, and I feel horrible laying it back down in the bin. I can just hear it's little apple voice saying, what's wrong with ME? Why don't you like ME? Oh, because I'm not shiny and perfect and wonderful like the other apples!

Oh, but we were talking music weren't we? Browsing around at some of the other stations Launchcast has to offer, I finally found the perfect one for me: RANDOM RADIO. Yep, suits me just fine! I just have to get over the anguish of passing over some songs.