Clearly, as evidenced by the situation hours later, the concept of being sick or perhaps "catching up on my sleep" has a detrimental side effect.

At 3a.m., I am wide awake. At 5a.m., I have dozed off then woken back up with an odd dream from which it was best to wake.

Sigh. Shrug of the shoulder. What are ya to do?

Christmas Day

Christmas Day was a wonderful testimony to the nurse's conviction that I am border line diabetic. . . and that border line may be getting more and more thin.

At 6a.m., I began a series of very . . . disturbing trips to the bathroom. I'm sure they were related primarily to poor eating habits. But since my stomach was upset, I didn't want to aggrivate matters by eating further.

That's from the same guy who knows if he doesn't eat SOMETHING for breakfast (usually a turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread as I drive to work), that I feel "funny" by 9:30a.m. So at 11a.m. when I became incredibly weak and light heated, I walked to my parents spare room and practically passed out.

During the next 24 hours plus of extreme fatigue and constant sleeping, I determined such plausible reasons as second hand exposure to meth (don't ask, there's no where in my world where I could have come into contact with meth) and hepatitis (no, never turned yellow the least bit). There was also the possibility that I simply caught a 24 hour bug. Only in hindsight did I think it may be related to diabetes and my failure to eat anything at all, when I know good and well that 9:30a.m. is about as long as I can go.

Oh well.

Christmas Eve Service

"I wonder as I wander out under the sky, how Jesus the savior did come for to die, for poor only people like you and like I." (traditional)

Christmas Eve

It's Christmas Eve! Yeah.

I took PTO today and it's been the best thing in the world. I slept til almost 9a.m.! Made myself a breakfast of farm fresh eggs with some Pillsbury croissants. I've piddled 'round the house, gathered up gifts and what-not, and played my all time favorite Christmad c.d.: Kenny & Dolly, Once Upon A Christmas. It's a sound track from a cheesy television special. The cd is a treasured gift. Not that it's a super great gift, but that it had to be hard to track down several years ago when I received it from a friend who picked up on an of the cuff remark about a memory of the show.

I've gone out to Big Lots and spent more money I did not need to spend. And I've called my oldest nephew and with the joy of a child's voice he answered the phone "YOU'RE STAYING THE NIGHT HERE!" Moments like that, I'm thrilled to be an uncle.

(Right this moment, Hard Candy Christmas is on). "Me, I"ll be just fine and dandy . . . . "

Church service at 5p.m. and I'm looking forward to it, followed by supper with Skeeter & Noodle, Sass & Spyder (someday I'll bother to learn how to do a hyperlink). I think they're having some plumbing drama over there. We always have a Mexican Christmas eve.

Inspired by my friend Red's recent successful trip to her home, I'm going to do my hardest to keep good karma in my heart and stay at my parents until Friday morning. Let's all keep our fingers crossed.

Boys Night

Last night was an unexpected Boys Night. Sissy (Noodle) had to work and I volunteered to keep Spyder. We were sansa Sass who was at a sleepover. So Spyder and I left the bookstore headed for some supper, when Skeeter called saying he was getting off work and hungry. I asked if he wanted some pizza and he did and we kinda hit a pizza jackpot. Skeeter wanted 3 slices, which I realized was one dollar less than a small. So I ordered him a small, and they made him a medium by accident. So he won the pizza jackpot.

Skeeter offered movie night, and we went for the class first Indiana Jones. Nothing like the classic scenes in that movie. Plus I had picked up a big bag of cheesy puffs. No finer food in the world than cheesy puffs.

It was an unexpected Boys Night, but a very good sorta surprise night.

Juice Newton

When I got home last night, MyFella was here. He told me when I was about 20 minutes out, I suppose. Seems he had a seminar to attend in town today, and he thought he'd surprise me.

It was the sweetest thing.

Car Shopping

Did I tell you I'm doing a little car shopping? With over 226,000 miles on my 2001 Nissan, it seemed about time. I really like my current car, I enjoy it's paid-off-ness, and it's been dependable and roomy. Dependability is starting to wane a little bit. And there's about 3 things wrong with it that I see as signs of more to come, rather than just three things.

Sigh.

Chorizo Sausage & Cheese

You know that cheesy skillet of sausage and stuff at every Mexican restaurant? Well, I fell in love with it at one of those cookie-cutter Mexican places, and then realized I hadn't ever, in all the years I've been going there, ordered it at my favorite place.

So last night, starving, I went in there with that on my mind. The restaurant was full-up, people at every table and covering the bar. Yeah for them, a full house. I couldn't have been happier. I ordered my food to go, and since I live all of 60 seconds from the restaurant, was on my way.

Uh, yeah...don't ever order that to go. I ended up with a big congealed glop of cheese. Microwaving only seemed to make it a hot glop of cheese.

There's a lesson learned.

I knew it.

As I stood there in my hometown, in my parents church, with my boyfriend behind me and the last girl I ever dated in front of me, I knew I would not introduce them.

And I knew that I would later post a blog.

Nephews

Best little boys in the world . . . and then they wake up!

Princess

For 13 1/2 years, from the moment my brother picked her up, until the moment today that he laid her down, she was treated the way her name deserved. She was our Princess. My father loves to tell the story, that when my brother brought her home, he could hold her in the palm of his hand. And truly, he could. But she held us all by the heart strings.

Holiday shopping

In theory, I've started my Christmas shopping. But I'm not sure that purchasing one item for Dad, and one for my brother count as much. Oh well, it's a start.

"Having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting. . . . "

but in this case, I can remember the Christmas morning it was waiting under the tree. I found these pics on the internet, but I have a sneaky suspicion my original one is in the attic at my parents' house. Just looking at it makes me remember how much I was excited to get it on Christmas morning!

$50 well spent

it's the best $50 I've spent in a long time. Allowed me to really free up some furniture, by taking entertainment pieces off them, and really move the rooms around. Pieces into the living room, into the bedrooms, etc. The new apartment furniture lay-out is all MyFella's. It's funny, he thinks he's not gay at all. But he had it all in his head just itching to get out. But I think he approaches it in a functional way, not a decorative way. It's not something looks better here. It's that it functions better here. Anyway, either way, it's a darned good expense of fifty bucks.

Chocolate skittles

One word: Nasty.

65 degrees

3 months ago I would have given anything to get the air in here down to 65. Now that it is, I'm freezing! What gives?

Blue Jean Friday

Blue jean Friday always makes me happy! And today is blue jean Thursday, assuming you purchased a fund raiser t-shirt to wear today. Usually I don't buy the $10 t-shirts because, well, they're not always attractive, and $10 seems like a lot of money to wear something just one day, even if it does go to a good cause. But this fundraiser shirt can be worn on 3 different dates. That averages about $3.33 a day to wear blue jeans to work! Plus we still get jean Friday (which was once used on t-shirt fundraiser day, so I was totally irked!).

I'm really happy. Though I think it looks a bit goofy to wear a t-shirt to work, I'm gonna do it! I'm just sort of a "company man" like that!

Now that the election is over,

My fellow Americans: Now that the election is over, I must face the reality that my dream to be President probably will not come to fruition. (I love that word, "fruition.") In doing so, I realize that I will never see my dream of having Rob Lowe look at a pager that says "POTUS" and leave his date with a hooker to rush to my office. (I just loved West Wing!).

But I believe and recognize and have faith (when applicable) in the following:

The time of "public service" has long since given way to the time of politicians. The age of the internet and 24 hour news channels has changed us from a time of information to a time of minutiae masquerading as information.

Both of the major candidates are U.S. citizens who, to the best of their ability, want to serve the country. Neither man is an angel, nor a demon. Neither is without fault and neither is without merit. This position of humanity will likely follow them all the days of their lives, whether President or not.

The position of President is "of the United States" not "of the Democrats" or "of the Republicans." In what is the most divisive presidential election of our time, it is my hope that both Senators, when the race is over, will unite to work for the people.

I wish that I could be a conservative Republican. I wish it with all my heart. I'm afraid I'm just more open minded than most of their policies. Many times I agree with what they say, but not with what the reality of life as I see it, or what I perceive to be the spirit in which they say it.

I believe that abortion is murder. But I know that repealing Roe V Wade won't stop abortion. I admire the people who stand on the corner of Union Avenue every day with signs to stop abortion. But I wonder if they couldn't better spend their time working with programs to educate young men and women about the realities of sexual practices and the potential consequences.

I believe in the sanctity of marriage. But I believe people who claim to care about the sanctity of marriage do very little to reduce divorce rates.

I believe that people have the right to disagree about equal rights and marriage rights for all. But I don't understand why they take such steps to withhold from others, instead of just disagreeing and letting others live their lives in their own positive, life affirming ways. Mostly I don't understand how one group of adult, tax-paying citizens think they should withhold something from another group of adult, tax-paying citizens.

I believe that the ugly side of human nature has, for centuries, included war. I believe the "good side" fights the "bad side." But I believe that sometimes you lose your way, and it's hard to tell the good from the bad.

I believe that social welfare programs are sometimes necessary to keep good people from starving. I believe that, at any given time, most working Americans are just a few missed paychecks away from needing the assistance of those programs to provide for themselves and their families. But many people abuse them.

I believe that illegal immigration is a problem. But I don't have a problem with immigration or immigrants. With very few exceptions, most of us are descended from immigrants. Most of the immigrants I know work in physically laborious jobs, much harder than any job I've ever held, and work 7 days a week.

I believe "rich" people should pay at least in percentage as much tax as "poor" people. I believe the trickle down theory is a sham. I don't think "rich" should pay more because they're rich. I just don't think they should pay less.

I believe in G-d, Jesus, and a Holy Trinity. I believe "in God we trust." I'm just realistic enough to know that with so many different churches, beliefs and branches of belief, that your idea of what He wants and mine often differ. I respect your belief, whether I agree or not. I hope you respect mine. I promise not to try and take away your right to your belief, and hope you do the same.

I believe I am a patriotic American. I believe you can be a patriotic American citizen and still disagree with me.

I now ask for your support as I consider my candidacy for 2012.

Blissfull morning

I was blissfully unaware of any presidential thoughts this morning until I was in the shower. Just a moment before putting "citrus explosion" in my hair, I thought, "Wow! I don't even know who the new president will be." It was a fun morning, looking back.

Mostly I'm thankful that it's all over!

Here's a picture of a grocery store hottie. Oh, he was a handsome specimen. Blonde, baseball cap, lean body. Jeans were "just torn enough." I love that look, don't know why.

Voting Hottie

For me, voting took just about one hour to the minute. The building was deceptively line-less, with the people within snaking back on themselves in a hallway. I took a book and waited my turn to cast a vote for . . . something. I wasn't really sure until the moment I clicked it if I would vote for the candidate I had chosen. And I'm still not sure I chose the right guy. Oddly enough, I would have felt the same way had I clicked on the other guy.

But the most important thing about the voting experience for me was voting hottie: white male, probably 26 or so. Brown hair, gorgeous lean legs that were lean, tan and hairy. Wearing a pair of those loose hanging shorts and a black fleece zipper thing. A red baseball cap. The pics attached don't do him justice. Guess I moved the camera a bit. Oh well. He made my voting experience a world better.

Politics

I think I'm just about "done" and put out with all the political statements and diatribes from various personal sources - including the use of websites and internet. I mean, really, what is it with EVERYONE?

Since I had my own little breakdown about two weeks ago, I have steadfast resolved to not participate in political one-shots via Facebook statements, Myspace, etc. ad nauseam. (I've got to check the spelling on that word).

A girl on Facebook the other day had a statement like "Wow! I can't believe an Obama supporter attacked a woman and carved a B in her face! Way to go, Barack!" . . . . Uh ~ hello? First, it was ludicrous to begin with. Second, it was a lie. Did she ever go back and say "Wow! I can't believe a McCain supporter carved a B in her own face and pretended it was an Obama supporter!" Uh, no.

This morning a woman I sorta know has the statement "I hope everyone who supports Obama gets what they deserve, and I don't mean money!" Well, WTF do you mean? That every single citizen who disagrees with you somehow deserves to "get" something? Jeeze oh pete. People really should just calm down.

Popeye's Chicken

Yesterday, near to starving, I told MyFella, "We got to have lunch." I told him to just pull in anywhere he wanted. He pulled into Popeye's. Ya know, I wouldn't have suggested it, wouldn't have asked for it, and didn't understand why he did it.

You know what? The chicken was GOOD. The store was spotless clean. The employees were friendly. Oh, did I mention the chicken was GOOD?

This may sound like a corny jingle, but I just love that chicken at Popeye's!

Saving Water

In response to some internet article about saving electricity, I emailed a friend of mine yesterday who works for a utility company. I provide the following information as a public service announcement:

Her response:

More importantly is your use of water. You should turn it off while washing your dishes, brushing your teeth or washing your face. Some say you should take navy showers where you turn the shower on to get wet then turn it off while you lather up and turn it back on to rinse. They say nothing about navy men in the shower with you.

A friend's response:

Dang! This advice was sounding good until I read the last sentence! :(

Her response again:

They don’t say you CAN’T have them in the shower with you.

Viral Emails

You know that horrible phrase where you say something like "Arguing over X is" . . . ."is like running in the special olympics. You might win, but you're still retarded."

That's how I felt yesterday. Lately I've gotten so balled up over receiving those mass forwarded, viral emails, that I've gone nuts with long diatribe replies. Built arguments in my head, framed them around phrases, contemplated words, and sent them off. And ticked off a couple of three people that . . .well, you know, it just didn't really matter all that much.

One of them even phrased it thinking I would realize she was asking me (or someone) to double check it on snopes because snopes is blocked at her work site. I didn't read that into it, so I just let loose.

I really do wish people would check on snopes or factorfiction or something first. I think if you don't, you run the risk of just telling lies and taking part in hate. But if they don't, I need to take a breath and calm down before ripping out emails.

Calm is my mantra today. Oh, and I'm going to try and not go to that group at all today. I need a self imposed day off. I made some apologies last night. Hope that's enough.

On a related note, I've about decided that those viral emails probably weren't written by anyone for or against a candidate. I think they were probably written by the same type of people who write viruses and send them out. They just want to stir up drama in people like I did. It's just viral and ugly.

Torchwood

OMG, that first episode of Torchwood was fabulous! The blowfish letting the old lady pass on the crosswalk, the tension between Jack and his old lover, the tension between Jack and Ianto, all of it just a double cross. The good humor in British style was spot on.

It's like cold water on a hot day.

Thank you, BBC. Thank you.

______
After reading an opinion posted on line about Torchwood, I'm second guessing myself. I'm bad about doing that sometimes. But usually only on things that don't really matter. So now I'm wondering if the first episode of season 2 was really any good or not. Did I really enjoy the homo-banter, or did I prefer it when it was much better hid and stealthy? Was the outrageous kissing really necessary, or any part of this world? Was it ever a scary story, or did I know from the start that this guy would double cross them? Maybe it wasn't all that good.

__________

After watching episode 2, I'm really confused. I think it was a little better. But somehow, I knew all along that the young alien lady would find a way to kill herself to save her humanity. I did like the one little when Ianto said, "He is dashing." and everyone sorta agreed. I kind of thought it was funny.

Sigh. I just don't know.

____________

I've watched "To the last man" and loved the writing thoroughly. The "one morning" music is modern but haunting. The play between Toshiko & Tommy is drawn out nicely. Her conflicts seem normal in an unnormal situation. Oddly enough, the only thing I did not like is the kissing between Jack & Ianto. It seems oddly anti-climactic and a let-down. All the play, the subtletly, the tension, gone in a clumsy kiss. Just too something.

Oh well.

"One Of These Mornings"

One of these mornings
Won't be very long
You will look for me
And I'll be gone

Torchwood

OMG, that first episode of Torchwood was fabulous! The blowfish letting the old lady pass on the crosswalk, the tension between Jack and his old lover, the tension between Jack and Ianto, all of it just a double cross. The good humor in British style was spot on.

It's like cold water on a hot day.

Thank you, BBC. Thank you.

Prayer Breakfast

This morning, during the weekly meeting of a civic organization to which I belong . . . . . a man is saying the opening prayer . . . . . . . and I'm looking through the crowd at a man I've known for years. . . . and I'm thinking 'I would so do you.'

Is it wrong to think dirty thoughts during prayer? Or more specifically, is it more wrong to think them during a prayer?

Found on MySpace!

I signed up for MySpace and Facebook for the singular, sole purpose of networking with people from high school. I'm not sure why, I haven't gone back to my alma mater once, nor have I attended any class reunions. But most of my Facebook & MySpace 'friends' are originally from high school. It's changing some, but that was the purpose.

In doing some of my blogs on here, I wrote on here, and if I thought the story was funny or interesting, I might click/copy/paste it over.

Yeah. See. That whole "to be gay" or "not to be gay" thing, I don't care to go into that with people I haven't actually seen since 1987 (count those years, 1987) or co-workers. And this blog, like so many other people's blogs, is sorta secretive. Not real secretive, I understand, but sorta. Names are usually changed to protect the innocent, that kind of thing.

I accidentally click/copy/pasted a friggin' link.

Found by my MyFella's neice. . . . . . . . . who didn't know he is gay. . . . . and dating me . . . . .

I think he took it better than me, rushing to get home to figure out howthahellidmanagedthat! Sheesh. I've deleted the link and figured out how it happened. Silly me, I guess I just don't understand a damned thing about html coding and all that crap.

But now, my blog's been found. MyFella's swearing he only read one or two postings and he did not keep the address in his history or anything. But still, it's found.

So I'm considering what to do. To keep or not to keep? Close it out and call it a day? Keep posting like it never happened and believe him when he says he didn't keep the link? I don't know. I'm not gonna lose a lot of sleep over it. I mean, the bigger picture is he got outed to his niece. Surely my heart break over blog-exposure isn't that big a deal in comparison. But I liked being able to write about my experiences with him, without him being able to see them. Wistful sigh.

I dunno.

Country Song

Another morning after a crazy night before
I'm searchin' for my blue jeans on a stranger's bedroom floor
Well, shouldn't I feel guilty well I don't feel a thing
I'd wake her up and say goodbye, but I can't recall her name

Now that's a country song!



Randy Hauser/Anything Goes

Torchwood

OK, so here's my problem: Having waited months and months for Torchwood to come out on dvd/Netflix, it's finally here! The problem? I learned my lesson (maybe?) with the most recent season of Stargate: Atlantis and the last season I watched of MI-5.

You see, Torchwood (and I'm sooooo thinking ahead to Dr. Who, on my Netflix list and showing it will pop up in November! YEAH!) and other shows play off a subtle weaving of emotions week to week. With Dr. Who & Torchwood, there's often just something at the end that's left you wanting more. . . a sad ending, a happy ending, a curious ending, a two-parter. SOMETHING! And you find yourself positively moist with anticipation by the time a week passes and the next episode comes on. That makes it sort of like tantric-t.v.

But what do you do when you can, quite literally, wait for MONTHS AND MONTHS and then, if you work your Netflix que right, complete the ENTIRE SEASON IN LIKE A DAY, or a weekend! Then, what do you do for like the next FULL YEAR! aaaaggghhhhh!

I guess I could watch one episode, return the dvd, and put it right back on my que. Or force myself to watch only one dvd and wait a week in between. But you know a regular series stretches out something like, what jeeze, weeks and weeks and weeks?

Sigh. The first dvd is here now. What to do, what to do?

Youthful Phrases

as shared with me by two of the four siblings of The 4 Children that I love so much.

"Flexitarian." When you want to be vegetarian, but you're just too poor too afford it. As in, at work, a friend says, "Hey. I'm not going to eat all this sub sandwich. You want half?" or "Hey. We're cooking out tonight. Want to come over?" and really, it's your best chance for a meal that your poor-butt best not turn it down.

"Heterosexual Life Partner." Young straight men, when "BFF" just isn't enough.


Advice on dating: "It's good to be the cuter one. It gives you all kinds of power." Followed up by "I've never dated anyone cuter than me. Well, I'm pretty cute and I never dated anyone who had more cuteness potential than me. Like, he may have tried harder to be cute, and sometimes I'm kind of grubby, so it kind of equaled out. But I always had more cuteness potential."

Shining Star!

I just received an employee award for community service! It sounds cheesy, but I'm so excited! They came in my office (while I was typing a personal email to MyFella) clapping and carrying on, and said I had won a shining star for my service to the nursing home. A friend-girl co-worker 'V' nominated me.

I thought it was odd that one of my employees had asked me if I would be here at 11 because someone wanted to call back and talk about groups for 2009, but you know my clients can be so odd that I really didn't over think that.

I've got a new name badge with little stars on it that says "Shining Star of the Quarter Community Service" and I get a primo parking spot for 3 months (THREE MONTHS!) because it's a quarterly award, and I got a little check (going straight to November rent!). And when they have the next employee luncheon, I think I get a little statue thing.

How cool huh? You know, I'm usually so "over" so much stuff. But this has just made my day. I'm so like "This is the best place to work EVER!"

Halloween wishes

It's a shame, but it's the truth. Every time I pass the adult costume rack at Target, I stop. Flip through and find it. . . run my fingers on the fabric. . . look at the size and the price and sigh wistfully before walking away.

My birthday . . . continues

To further continue celebrating the holiday known as "my birthday", my friends G & Bev took me to lunch at the Arcade.

OK, to be honest, yes, I set it up. I was like, "Let's go to lunch." But the way I see it, if you really want something for your birthday (like lunch with G&Bev at the Arcade) it's ok to take the steps to get it. That they happened to buy my lunch for me (a yummy sandwich of thick slices of honey ham with sliced pear and aoili mustard) was just a bonus.

Afterwards, I took my cousinette M.F. to Wiles-Smith Drug Store for a homemade milk shake. There's just not a better one in the city.

I'll be wrapping up festivities today with a family dinner shared with my brother. I got to go get him a present on my way out of town.

Whirlwind

It's really been a bit of a whirlwind week, driving, vacationing, birthdaying, etc.

I picked up my cousin M.F. on Friday night and brought her to the apt. long enough to show her around, then leave her Saturday. She came to town to work on a project, sort of. I think she really came to town to get out of our small hometown.

Then zip I headed off to MyFella's to begin the week. Sunday morning we popped up early and hit the road to Pigeon Forge. We discovered that we vacation well together. We both like and dislike similar things. We'll gladly pay to go into a theme park and spend the day happily walking through exhibits, museums, shows, etc. And we'll gladly go to a dinner show and watch the trick riders.

But tourist shopping? We'll pass. Gatlinburg was a bit of a bust for us. Just row after row of touristy shopps with a few places in between to pay and go in and see. . . whatever.

Late one night we did a wee bit of touristy shopping to pick up a souvenir t-shirt for Jamie, and we're both a sucker for a book store anywhere, anytime. But we wanted to go see, go do, not go shop. So all that tourist shop-crap just wasn't our thing.

Did I mention the people up there were super friendly?

Back in town yesterday to go to a friend's house. A friend of mine died, a beautiful lady we'll call D. She was 70, and her suffered through illness the last few months that included a fast spiral into Alzheimer's and a horrible weakening of her body. I haven't asked the particulars, but I think she died with her daughter and grandson near her. So I made it to the house yesterday afternoon to spend a little time with them. The visitation is tonight, and I've offered to pick up a few inbound relatives at the airport. Funeral is tomorrow. She's going into one of those wall-mausoleums. I said it sounded very classy and very "like D." She said she had thought so too when the idea came up.

Last night to the fair, and not one decent photo op out of it. J&K picked us up, and even treated us to tix! K blew her recent uber-healthy organic diet by feasting on every fair food item she could see. Spiral potato chips, pineapple whip, pronto pup, roasted corn, chicken tenders, chicken on a stick (which is different from the honey roasted chicken tenders). About the only thing we somehow skipped was a funnel cake.

If M.F. would wake on up, I'd treat us to some Wiles-Smith for breakfast. But if not, I can probably do it tomorrow. I've got lunch with two of my all-time faves at 11:30 downtown to celebrate my birthday!

Sunday I'm going home for the family supper we missed last weekend. I've got to think of something to buy my brother for his birthday. Wow. By the time Monday comes, I'm going to need some time off just to relax from my vacation!

Birthday Pics

September 22nd.

My birthday! Yay for me! It's my birthday! It's my birthday!

Once I turned on my phone, I received a plethora of voice mails and text messages and what-not. All the birthday-love I love to receive. I know it sounds greedy of me, but I hope there are some birthday cards in the mail when I get home! I always love to have a phone call from my Moma on my birthday. I had voice mails of song singing from my nephews.

And a Dolly Parton theme it was. We found the Dolly World attraction and my half price tickets were waiting on me. The off season crowd was light, but everything was open. So if you want to ride the roller coasters, you don't have to stand in line. We meandered through the whole day. Had lunch at Lillian's Chicken Buffet or something like that, where MyFella got his hair blessed by Lillian and her chicken. She said he had good hair.

We didn't ride the rides. Between MyFella being a skeerdy cat and my back still feeling a bit out of whack, we just went without this time.

My friend-girl through work met us at Dixie Stampede last night and gave us tickets. So we really enjoyed the dinner and show there. MyFella laughed at the way I ate chicken with my fingers. It's a good, fun show and a good time.

It was a very good day.

Dolly Parton Birthday

Today is going to be THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!
 
Our ride up to the Smoky Mountains was fairly uneventful, even nice.  We had only one tiny argument, and my biggest disappointment was that he doesn't like Meatloaf, so I didn't play that c.d.   I like to use road trips to listen to favorite old c.d.'s. 
 
The hotel is something I am going to stress over and over as a positive.  I had a gift certificate for free 2 nights.  So for two free nights, I'm going to stress happiness.  I'm hearing there was some remodeling a few years ago, and I didn't perceive a recent remodel.  What I have found is that it is very clean and the people are very friendly, and there's no sign of anything being worn or ratty.  Is it their fault someone has bad taste in decorating and my room is filled with an odd assortment of faux-Native American designs? 
 
Let me tell you - there's an indoor pool.  Whatever else goes on, there's an indoor pool that's open til midnight.  I even went to W-M hoping to find a "noodle" in the close-out section.  I'm thrilled 'bout that!
 
Last night we just rode up and down the tourist strip going in a few touristy joints.  We ate a supper of sandwich in the room before going back to the pool.  You know I just love swimming.
 
But today is my Dolly Parton birthday!  Dollyworld opens at 10a.m. and we have half price tickets, and then tonight we are meeting a sort-of work friend at Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede!  So it's going to be a Dolly Parton themed birthday!  This could be the best birthday ever! 
 
*The work friend got us free tickets!  So that's dinner and a show for free.  The only catch is the girl is stuck going with us to get the free tix.  I told her how much I appreciated it, especially since I'm sure she's seen it all before.  But as a thank-you, I got my boss (who rocks!) to give me one of the signed cookbooks she has in her office and I've got her a little coffee mug and I'm making her a 'happy' out of it all. 
 
 

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Second

** drama alert **
While I adamantly said, "I'm not mad or bitter about this, MyFella kept saying, "You sound mad and bitter." So I'm going to say that I realize it's impossible to write this (or say it out loud) without sounding mad and bitter.

So there's your bitter alert for this posting.

"Here" she said and was handing me the phone. I said, "Who is it?" She said, "E." I said, "I'm not taking that call." She said into the phone, "I think he's mad at you." I said, "I'm not 'mad.' "

Come home from Iraq or Afghanistan or where ever it is you are and spend a month and don't call me, the first time I won't even think about it. Or the second. But the fourth time? OK, OK. Two times I won't count because you had an intensely personal reason, so I'll give you those two. If you want me to believe you spent the full 30 days so deeply consumed by the personal emotion of a tragedy with some of your friends - I will believe you. I've got no problem with that.

I've told you before, I don't have to be first. I know you have a lot of family and a lot of friends who want your time when you're home. I'll take second. I'll share. You made it all the way from the Middle East, I'll drive to you.

I'll even give you this: I know you are young and handsome and would rather spend your time with young pretty girls and young handsome men than with your old, fat, fag cousin. I got ya, I understand. Just call. Or tell your Mom and aunt to cook a family supper one night. I'll share.

But come home four times in a row, don't call me at all? In fact, tell me by MySpace two months ago you were coming home on the 22nd for a month, and then actually come home a month earlier, and the night you are leaving, as you are driving to the airport, tell somebody to hand me the phone because I happen to be sitting near them. . . in a crowded and noisy restaurant where I really can't talk with you anyway.

I'll be second place. What I won't be is second hand, second rate, second thought.

Doesn't change how much I love you. Doesn't change that I will answer the phone of it rings right now. Or when you come back, I'll still share, take a phone call, etc. But I have people who think of me first. I have people who enjoy my company and call me. I have people who come to town and make the point of seeing me. So I know what it feels like.

I won't be second hand, second rate, second thought.

*Told you. It would read like drama*

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Aunt Liz

When I get around to blogging about it, if I do, I might go into details that explain why, after so long, tonight with her was such a good thing, a good time, and far too long in the making. Too long a grudge held, to finally slip away.

It was good to be back. Good to be us. Good to feel like the smile and the laugh were sincere, and meant for me, and not just in a room I happened to be in. It was good to see her the way I used to see her, and hoping she saw me the way she used to see me.

Maybe that's enough of a blog. It's never felt so good to lose something.

College Game Day Hottie

Quite possibly the hottest-built-man-alive.Wearing the muscle-style t-shirt under his white t-shirt. Thick, body building neck, black hair, cannons (not just guns, cannons) on his arms. Perfectly ratty jeans. Broad chest.

A little brunette hottie girlfriend who danced like a stripper girl to the stadium music. You know he's banging her like a screen door in a hurricane.

This picture doesn't do him justice. In fact, the shadow on his shirt seems to make him fat. But he wasn't. Trust me. It's just not so easy to take a good photo with my Razor phone in a crowd, and less so trying to move your camera around a bunch of fans in a stadium.

May they live long and propser

and serve as a role model for all. A wedding over 21 years in the making.

Pearl

Pearl and I have been friends for years. Pearl is who she is, and we love her for it. Pearl being a nick-name for a friend of ours who is quite gay and has some of the best stereotype genes. If somebody dies, just tell Pearl. She's the best kitchen manager you'll ever find. Wanna throw a pot luck? Again, it's Pearl to help manage everything. Wanna know good dish on somebody at her church? She'll tell ya.

She's also been known as a bit of . . . a . . . frugal person. The kind to order "soup and a coke" then say, long before the rest of the group are finished, "I've got to go, I can't wait on the waitress. Can you pay my check for me? Thanks" and dash off. Not bothering to toss you a five to pay for the check.

She's . . . well, she's a pearl.

He is also one of the first friends I made when I moved here. He was part of the group that I moved into at my fave-eating-place. He's had a key to my apartment. We've been out to eat. I've done my best to get him complimentary fare at my varied employers so he could impress who-ever.

So. Why. You. Gonna. Do. Me. Like. That? I run into him at the festival yesterday, and go to hug him and he sticks out his hand to shake mine. I push on, introducing him to MyFella and Jamie, and he says in response "I think you should shop there" - pointing at the booth where we are which has a variety of costumes on display. And then? He's gone. Completely walked off. Didn't introduce us to whoever the young hottie with him was, didn't say goodbye, just disappeared as fast as he could.

So how come I'm thrilled to see you, but you treated me like an old neighbor from a poor subdivision?

Sigh. It's not like I'm surprised he's shallow and wants to be with whoever his pretty friend is. I just didn't realize he'd turn his back on me so quick. We'll see what I'll remember the next time I get a coupon for a free meal. That'll teach him!

Mississippi Football Games

You know how some email jokes come back around, every year or so? In sort of the same way you used to get jokes faxed to you? You know the kind - there's one about Memphis drivers and roadways. (There really is an intersection about a mile from me. All four ways to turn have different road names, and there's only 2 streets intersecting. Or the one about 'midtown directions could say 'go to East Parkway and drive until you get to North Parkway, go West on North Parkway until you get to West Parkway. True, it exists).

Anyway, there's this one about football games at a particular Mississippi college. It talks about how the women dress up, how the boys where khaki's, how they hide whiskey in flaks versus . . . I suppose yankee's going to football games in old jeans and t-shirts drinking cheap beer. I haven't read it in a while, but it's out there.

Yesterday, in all my 39 years, was my first time to go to a game at this college, just over an hour away. All the rumors? They're true.

Tents all in the grassy areas with people set up like they are catering meals. It's all family, so if you don't know someone, you don't get none. I swear to you, CABLE DISHES and FLAT SCREEN TV's set up. Chafing trays (the expensive ones, not the cheap, throw-away aluminum ones). Girls in high heels. Men in khaki's. It was. . . . unique, to say the least. Take the concept of tail-gating, throw it away, and just start with "hosting a lawn party." Lots of them. One after one after one, row after row, after row.

Last home game? Someone cut the rope marking off the band's practice area to set up more tents. (Not that they wouldn't KNOW the band practiced there before the game, mind you.) So the band director sent someone out to buy yards and yards of chain metal, painted security yellow. Ha, cut that!

To be normally expected, lots of college pride colors, logo's, emblems, etc. But this is how invasive they are - the college paints rows in the grass and puts up signs that say something like "EMERGENCY PATH - DO NOT FILL" and "STAY OFF THIS GRASS" because if you didn't, there would be no paths. They just pop up next to each other into infinity. All over the place.

And booze? Well, they said last year and years before you could smell it on the breeze. This year there's a new mandate that you can't have it. But security can't sip your cup or open your cooler if there's a lock on it. So just don't show it. Kind of funny.

The whole thing was kind of funny, really. I'll see if I can find that email joke somewhere. Too True.

I'm not racist, I'm just scared!

The best college game story I've got is drunk-white-boy standing 3 feet away. The band is in their warm-up spot just playing little warm-up diddys (once upon a time I knew the correct term for them) and there's these 3 guys next to me. All well into their enjoyment of the intoxicating evening.

One of them must work at some chain store, he struck me as the type, and his 'boss' is in the band playing the trombone. So drunk boy is heckling his boss with great lines like "You can SLIDE one in me!" and "You can BLOW me!" Him and his two buddies just howl with laughter.

A fellow bandmate turns around, a young black gentleman, and looks at them. Heckler, who up to this moment has just been mildly drunk and not particularly annoying yet, says, "Hey! It's all about the love! You wantsum? Cause I don't do black guys!"

Uh. The pause from his drunk-white-heckler-pals, the look on the black guy's face, it's clear. There was a little line there, and you just stepped over it. Maybe not intentional, your mouth was just running faster than your brain. But you did it. You stepped over it.

He yells "I'm not racist, I'm just scared!" Young black band guy changes to sort of a smile and a shake of his head and turns around. Drunk guy says, "It was the only thing I could think of."

One of his pals says, "I'll tell that story for years."

I said, "Yeah, I will to."

It would of been a great story, too, if the three heckler drunks had stopped there. But they kept heckling their pal long after it stopped being funny. Oh well.

They weren't particularly really cute, but the great thing about college aged guys is even the ugly ones are cute. Here's a little snap of a drunk, white, straight boy whose not racist, just scared.

an uncle

An uncle with his favorite niece, or a niece with her favorite uncle? Either way, the picture tells the story best.

Post Secret

This is NOT my secret. It's not my card. I didn't think of it. Can't take credit for it. But it's how I feel every single time I make the drive to his house, then turn around and drive back 2 days later. It is, I always hope, how he feels on Sunday afternoons when he gets back to his home.

It's 6:45a.m.

and I hear jamie giggling. The day will start soon.

Molly's

It's 6a.m.

and the weekend of the C-Y festival. For the first time since 1999, I'm not 20 feet away tucked in my adorable apartment. 'course, this apartment is a lot more roomy. But this morning I would like to hear the tinker of Wal-Mart tents being popped up and boxes being unloaded and muffled chatter over coffee while vendors of a variety of useless and beautiful (and sometimes tacky) objects put out their wares.

I liked leaving notes on my door that said, "No. The car left in the street is not mine. Please don't knock" after a couple of years of having go-rounds with vendors. One year they just popped their tent over the car and set stuff up on it. Gotta do what you gotta do.

Well, we're going to the festival this morning. It's just a little hurtful to my sense of sentiment that I have to DRIVE!

It's 6a.m.

It's 6a.m. and I've spent the better part of a week waiting for the weekend to come, waiting for the morning when I can sleep in with MyFella laying next to me. Instead, I'm wide awake and he's in the front bedroom. My part? Oh, going to bed drunk does that to me. His part? Jamie wakes up and tends to stay up, talking to himself and playing with the laundry in his overnight bag, unless someone lays down next to him.

But at least we're here together. And at least we had fun tonight with an "old style" gathering of friends at "our place." It was just like back in the day, when we were young and single and had (we thought) more money than we knew what to do with. When we could just order "another" and then do it again. When we closed the place down. (I left early when Jamie got tired, some body else might have closed the place down. Red's jeep is still parked outside where it was when she came by here.)

264

That's my weight this morning. I can't remember if that's up or down from 90 days ago. I'm sure I wrote it down somewhere, but I don't know where.

This morning they took the blood for lab works to make sure the cholesterol pills aren't ruining my liver, to make sure I'm doing some good with lowering my sugar, etc. Let's keep our fingers crossed on the results.

Back went out, did I tell you? Two weeks ago. Chiropractor doctor's been giving it to me good. He's cute, in his own way. I'm not attracted to him, but he's fairly young and nice.

Best thing to come out of campaign rhetoric lately is Sarah's husband. What a cutie he is.

Watched the two episode season closer from last season's House. You know I'm a House fan by association. My friends J&K watch it, so I watch it with them. I knew I had to catch last season's closer on rerun so I would be ready for the new season. The first of the two part episode was arguably the worst & best written. Kind of funny, kind of out there, didn't make sense, too much of House's attitude and not enough good writing but at the same time very out of their normal box. Then the second episode - emotional roller coaster that had me bawling my eyes out at the end. So there I am, darned near 40 years old, crying in front of my friends after dinner, just sniveling at poor Amber.

I got to get a grip on that stuff.

I'm in love with Todd Pallin.

Come on now, can you blame me? He's a total hottie. This isn't his best pic, but he's quite handsome. Hard worker. Union man. Rugged and outdoorsy. Virile.

Lions and tigers and bears. Oh my.

Relationships & Quick Reactions

I have GOT to learn how to hold my breath when MyFella is talking about his family. Which is mainly due to my not understanding that when he is talking to me about them, he's not actually wanting my input. And I tend to give my input loudly. I knew when he said, 'I am hanging up now' that it was best to let him do so, because I had crossed the little line. Worse, what I said wasn't clearly phrased to match what I meant. So it was just a big ol' jumble of a hot mess.

It's better now, and I'm going to keep trying to work on it. You know, I've never dated one person continuously for this length of time. There was the guy I dated off and on for 4 calendar years, but we only dated in increments averaging 4 months. We were never particularly close - although for all the emotion and drama and baggage at the time, you would have thought. . . . .I don't know what you would have thought. I could have starred alongside Sally Fields in some Lifetime movie for all the carryin' on we did. But this is different - two guys, one relationship, consistent and continuous. Now that takes some getting used to! Sigh.

MI-5 & Netflix

Completely ignoring Noodle's advice to not get invested in any of the Mi-5 characters, I have been horribly upset over the loss of Tom Quinn. Even more so, I'm upset at the way he went down, and Harry's utter failure to believe in him when Harry seems to be a loser himself. On top of that, whoever played them, included Tom's most recent love interest, a lovely blonde CIA agent from the U.S. Her heart is broken, her career ruined, Tom's reputation destroyed and he is dead, and Harry will undoubtedly come out of this unscathed. The prior two episodes did a good job of cajoling me into a strong dislike of Harry and Tessa. Yes, yes, I still liked Tessa even though she was apparently a big ol' liar scheming away tons of money with false agents. But I liked her until the Colombian girl died. I was already bothered over Harry's cover up of his briefcase loss while continuing to act sanctimonious. But the loss of Tom like this is just upsetting to me.

I am still annoyed at Netflix. After suffering with all their other customers through the loss of a week's worth of shipments, I call them to figure out what's up with my MI-5 dvd. It sat at the 'shipping today' spot for days, then jumped back down to first spot in the que. The boy on the line told me that dvd was very popular and the shipping trouble had kept the system from really knowing how many were available. As an apology, he popped out another dvd of mine, supposedly. But not really. So I had dvd's out of a series coming in a completely wrong order while that first one continued to sit there. The bam dastards. So now I know how Tom Quinn dies at the end of the season, but there's still two episodes from earlier in the season at the house to watch. Ugh!

In a vain attempt at hope for Tom Quinn (who, and I swear this to you, I dreamed about night before last), I went ahead and added season 3 and popped dvd 1 to the top. Then snuck a peek at the box top. No Tom Quinn. But that damned Harry is right there on the cover. Oh why could he not have died?

Broke Down Mountain

I don't know what went wrong, but somewhere between going to work and getting to work, my lower back started killing me. I knew with the weekend coming there was no time to dilly dally and called the clinic and got a 1:30pm appointment, for which they did not see me until almost 2:30 and gave me some lame excuse about charts, blah blah blah. I left there with a shot in my butt that was supposed to relieve pain and inflammation and 800 milligram pills of Ibuprofen and some muscle relaxer.

Last night, I had dinner with my friend Red and her best pals M&Somebody. M is bald, gay, a hair dresser, and fabulous. And Somebody's name I can never remember. But two margaritas gave me more relief than I felt all day. Before falling into bed, I took my pills and fell fast asleep until 6a.m.

Between 6a.m. and 7:30a.m. I struggled heartily to get out of bed and pee. It was beyond painful. A little after 8, Red had found a chiropractor who was open, and after a useless call to the insurance card #, I just went on. I needed help.

The pain is now tolerable, in part because I keep moving and try not to over do it, but also try not to get stiff. It could be a combination of the drugs settling in as well as the chiropractic visit. I am taking another set of pills at 3. Let's hope that does well for me.
___________________

Ooooh that was a mistake. Using the only position the doctor said provides relief off that area (on back with feet against the wall), I stayed there with the ice pack about an hour. Getting up ~ uh, a total beotch again. Lost all the ground I've gained. Got a feeling tomorrow morning will be a total beotch too.
________________

11:30p.m. and I just took the pills. I think I'm going to try and support my lower back with some towels or pillows, and sleep in the recliner. I don't know that it'll be good for my back, but it can't be any worse getting up in the morning.

Sigh.

General Blog

Just a little catch-up blog.

MyFella is all upset over the goings-on in his family, including just finding out that his ex-brother-in-law from a very recent divorce to MyFella's sister left her name on some, uh, rather demanding documents financially. Sister apparently didn't read well, hired a cheap attorney, or was just rather stupid about some things coming out of the divorce, and got a call this week that the ex dropped over dead in his truck. . . leaving her rather screwed. Idiot didn't even use Credit Life on these fairly substantial matters. So he's dead and she's screwed. Word from dead guy's son in law is the family has gone completely mad, white trash, fussing and fighting, etc. and it's bound to spill over to Sister when they come looking for some of his crap he didn't take care of. And MyFella's all upset about it. We talked with my attorney friend last night who gave a little bit of advice, most of which involved 'Run to an attorney TOMORROW!'

I'm trying to last minute plan using a 2 night gift certificate in Pigeon Forge that expires next month. I think we'll end up having to take two days off during the week, because our weekends are just booked with festivals, ball games, visitors, etc. But I do hope we get on up there for a get away. I've had the certificate for near a year. Shame on me!

Red is coming this weekend, and I'm being included on emails regarding a Bunco game. Lawzy, but I do hope I'm just being included as an f.y.i. and not as an invitation. I've been to their Bunco games, and they just get mean.

The parents are coming to town next weekend. Mom's asked me to take them to lunch and then take her to shopping. Dad's got his own itinerary after lunch, and she's pleased to let him go do his own running around. We usually go to the same restaurant (it' right around the corner from Noodle's house). It's locally owned home cooking and it's usually good. For MyFella, I've put it out on the table. MyFella can take the weekend off and save gas if he chooses.

I had the nicest surprise night with Noodle (I really should take the time to learn how to link) and the Urchins. No great photo's. I called Noodle on the way home from work. Noodle invited me to dinner and she was making bbq chicken, fried squash (double yum!), pasta, toast with fresh sour dough bread (yum!) and left over green bean casserole (which has recently become a total fave of mine!). I asked about Skeeter and he was going to be late, which was going to keep her from going to a home schooler's meeting. To me, a home cooked supper is more than fair trade for keeping my own godchildren a couple of hours, so after supper I shoo'd her on out the door. Sass and I read a few books and then she played on the Wii fit. Spyder played outside. I declined the invitation to climb into his well hid hideaway, but only because I was wearing work pants. I've promised to accept the invitation when I am in jeans or shorts next. Skeeter showed up only about an hour later, and I headed home to do my walk.

Oh, yes, and I lied on a document last night. Joining a local gym, I really only wanted to walk for a few minutes with a friend of mine. Stupid enough to answer a survey truthfully, they wanted me to get a doctor to sign some document. So I marked through my answers, changed them, initialed them, and went for my walk. They have an olympic sized swimming pool (not quite the Chinese birdnest, but still quite nice) so I think if I go back at all, it may be to get wet. I love to play in the water. But the gym is more than a bit out of my way. So while I don't feel guilty for lieing, I also doubt I'll return any time soon.

Weather's been cooler and I like it. Still have tiny bugs in my apartment. I've got some tacky fly strips up. MyFella says there's something called Dairy Barn Spray at Tractor Supply that will wipe them out, but that's a fair drive to the nearest TSC. I may try to get out there this weekend.

Just finished my morning Diet Coke. OMG, they're so good cold out of the can. **Walt, I envy you the ability to go cold turkey and stay off them. Truth is, when I try to go to zero, I end up craving them super bad and go back on them in like a month's time. But I found if I limit myself to two a day, it's easy to do, especially during the week. It's a little harder on weekends because I am more likely to be in a restaurant and order a Diet Coke and get a refill. But since weekdays often pass with just one, I feel like it evens out.

Oh well, back to work.

Hot guy

When I saw him, it reaffirmed my belief in things greater in me, and it reaffirmed my belief that I am truly gay.

OhMyGawd. Obviously, from the 3 pics in my camera, I tried desperately to get a good pic of him, including a brief sojurn through the store stalking him. He was/is tall with dark hair, and had sort of a 'frat boy from hell' look. Frat boys aren't built like this. Frat boys don't have tats like this. Frat boys don't wear ripped and shredded shirts like this.

He had on the typical popular basketball shorts, they were sagging just a little or his boxers were riding high. They were visible because he had his shirt absolutely ripped. The front seemed full, but the back was thin, maybe an inch across, and the sides were missing. He has a ripped body and tats on his left shoulder blade. You know that gasp when you see a guy like that, the way your heart starts pounding, the way thoughts of sin and flesh and desire fill your mind and body. I had sin in my heart. I coveted him. Oh my.

He walked out of the store ahead of me and jumped into another store. So I viewed the parking lot and decided the white truck was probably his. I moved my car (how gay is that! or stalker? you say stalker like it's a bad thing) to get a better view. My litte razer phone didn't do me well in a need to take a fast pic, but I was surprised at the little car this tall guy into. And leaned over to roll down the window.

Sigh. What a pretty sight on a Sunday afternoon.

Three Musketeers

It turned into a weekend I'm calling a Three Musketeer weekend. Just us guys. Went where we wanted, did what we wanted. Well, sometimes Jamie said, "I'm not going" but he went anyway. I think Jamie sometimes likes to put his foot down on principle, just to show he can.

Friday night, I had talked with a few different sets of people about joining us, and 1 family made other plans, and another texted us that she wouldn't get there in time so she'd see us on Saturday. For some reason, that just set me off and I told MyFella I had no intention of doing anything with her. I guess probably because I knew, in my heart, she's always someone who cancels and never calls back anyway. On Thursday night, a friend called and said she wanted to see us, but she could only see us on Saturday because "I go to estate sales every Sunday." Well, I've heard that before, and good for you, but two times in a row to tell me you "go to estate sales every Sunday" is just one too many. I'm not sure why that hit my raw nerve. After all, she called and wanted to see us on Saturday. And in the past, I've locked out Monday nights for Margaritas for over two solid years, and currently I have standing supper & tv on Tuesdays with J&K (but grant me this one, if someone wants to feed you every single week, would YOU gripe about which night? besides, for half the year it's A.I. night). But anyway, I had no intention of giving up time for her either. Though I don't really understand why I was annoyed at her so.

But looking back, we ended up with a very nice, very rare 3 Musketeer weekend. Church and lunch today at my favorie pizza place. It's good (the thin crust, so if you like it N.Y. style you won't care for it) and inexpensive and they're generous with the toppings (hormel brand meats, the sign says). They got real busy real fast today, just after we arrived, so the waitress went from being fun and funky to being just lousy.

Just a good weekend all around. No relatives, no schedules or time tables. It was cool.

On other fronts, related and not:
I have a renewed interest in the Wizard of Oz and just checked the book out from the library (it's a shame that I'm an adult and had trouble finding the book!). I'm also confused about the apparent lack of Dorothy in Wicked. I'll have to review that, or ask somebody if she shows up later somehow.

These damned flying insects in the apartment are bothering me. MyFella insists they are in his home too and more to do with the season than my plants.

Netflix has been a bother, but they swear they are sending things out now.

Secret postcards today made me cry, the story about the wedding proposal. Brought a tear to my eye.

Red is coming this weekend and bringing her dog. She thinks my apartment is pet friendly. I would rather it not be, but there you go. In the end, he doesn't bother me too much. In a few weeks, for C-Y Festival, both she and Chaz are trying to come home. I already called Chaz to see how he'll be if I skip out part of the day. MyFella wants to go to the university to see his favorite niece march in her last football game. MyFella and I have come up with a plan to compromise the weekend so we both get part of what we want, but I thought Chaz would have every right to be annoyed if he made it all the way from Vegas and I leave town. He said it was fine with him, that I'm in a relationship now and have to make compromises. Besides, plenty of people are willing to fill up his time.

Good Sunday to you! Oh, and here's a pic of the 3 musketeers. It was taken by the waitress and the light is way-tha-f off. Ugh.

Saturday afternoon

We were headed out to the cheap theatre to watch the latest Narnia movie when I made the comment, "It's such a pretty afternoon, I hate to spend it inside." MyFella said "As much as I'd like to see it, we can rent it on Netflix." Then we stopped for lunch at Krystal's, and went out to an "Indian festival" he'd heard about on the radio.

Turns out it's "from India" Indian, not natives to the American continent. But he said he knew that. Anyway, we enjoyed it, I think, it was cerainly different. Let me tell you what I don't get: all, and I mean almost every single one, of the women are beautiful. The men, however, are a different story.

Those darned bugs? Yeah, they're still here. MyFella has offered to take the plants back to his place and put them on his porch until the darned bugs die. I swear, bugs are not supposed to live this long.

Right now we're watching the Superhero movie, which is a horrible spoof off of Spiderman. Not even a good spoof so far.

Oh well.

The Wizard of Oz

The beautiful Orpheum Theatre downtown has a summer movie series, and last night was the classic with Dorothy, the Scarecrow, Tinman, Lion and all the rest. At my suggestion, MyFella and I had a Three Musketeers night (him, me and Jamie). It was great fun, and we think Jamie really enjoyed it. But then, so did the two of us. It was a full house, and at the suggestion of Red we got there early. When we got in, it was quite empty, but the entire auditorium filled up, with the standard many one and two spaces that humanity tends to leave in crowds like that. So there were plenty of people looking for seats they couldn't find, even though there were plenty of seats to be had.**

The movie starts in sepia, although my memory is in black and white. The brownish tones were a surprise to me (though a bit of reading on Wikipedia cleared that up). Here's the biggest thing from the eyes of an adult:

Glenda the good witch, she's really a bit of a bitch. First she gives shoes to Dorothy knowing good and well that the wicked witch will want them, then she sends Dorothy off on a dangerous trip without any help. And she tells her the munchkins will see her to the end of munchkin land, which is all of 15 feet. Well beotch! Big fat lot of help you are.

Aside from that, it was quite fun to watch the movie again as an adult.

So, OK, if you are stuffed with hay, why would you leave any of it? Dorothy and the Scarecrow leave a big pile of it in the road.

How many horses were used to be "a horse of a different color"? The walk and prance changed.

Wikipedia says the bad witch was burned in the special effects of her taking off (the puff of reddish smoke and flame, I suppose).

It is quite a fun movie to watch, and more so on the big screen, giving it the forum it deserves.

Quite a fun night for all of us.

Coke

MyFella has got himself hooked on Coke rewards. (If you have any rewards off bottle tops or 12 packs, feel free to email them). He started doing it on a lark, and has now built up to 5,000 points. He first wanted a t.v. and the Faberware skillet set. The t.v. has long been out of stock, and the other day we got an email that the skillet set was running low. I told him to order them. He emailed me and said he couldn't. Apparently he's too addicted to raising his points total. Then they ran out of skillets so he couldn't get them anyway. I've been kind of annoyed.

Until last night at W-M, when I realized the 3 piece, non-stick, Faberware skillet set is only about $26. Guess what he's getting for his birthday next month.

ghosts of birthdays past

Heralds of the season to come

It has started. I love it. Whatever else my life may have at the time, I love the signs and portents. The light changes in a way I can not describe, but I know it when I see it, as if it has a slant to it, a tint, a modest hue. The cicadas sing. There is a difference, even when the temperature tells you otherwise. The differences herald the beginning of the school season, the time when students sweat in lines for the classes and the p.e. practices and the football season begins. And this, my friends, precede the date that should be a national holiday known as "My Birthday."

How odd that the beginning of school should always, always, remind me of my birthday. Primary color balloons, yellow cakes, presents. It is a day of great magic to me. Still is.

September cometh. You got plenty of time to buy gifts!