I just occurred to me that my prior post is made on 10-18, AT 10:18 a.m.
Kinda... creepy? Or cool. Yes, very very cool. I assure you that I didn't plan that.
*insert ominous music here*
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Happy Birthday to Me!
I want a cake. A gigantic cake. With all 30 candles on it.
That's what I want.
Ms.B
That's what I want.
Ms.B
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I am Woman, Hear me Roar
I was in the Jimmy, almost out of the parking lot yesterday before it dawned on me that Worm Girl, who I had walked out of the building with, was now standing by her car looking rather dejected. I rolled down the window and asked if she was okay. Apparently she had left her lights on and her battery was now dead.
Oh no!
Feeling a little apprehensive, I pulled into the space beside hers and we both opened our hoods. Then I retrieved my jumper cables.
Although we had the cables, I had never been the one to actually attach them and make another car "go". With all the courage we could muster we put positive to positive and negative to negative on our respective batteries and then, crossing our fingers, we started her car.
"Vroooom!", it said.
Never were two girls so proud of themselves. *preen*
Maybe some day we'll be brave enough to tackle a flat tire!
Oh no!
Feeling a little apprehensive, I pulled into the space beside hers and we both opened our hoods. Then I retrieved my jumper cables.
Although we had the cables, I had never been the one to actually attach them and make another car "go". With all the courage we could muster we put positive to positive and negative to negative on our respective batteries and then, crossing our fingers, we started her car.
"Vroooom!", it said.
Never were two girls so proud of themselves. *preen*
Maybe some day we'll be brave enough to tackle a flat tire!
My last day
After today I officially leave my 20s behind. Although its not REALLY a huge deal, it is still fascinating to me. Tomorrow I am 30. THIRTY!! That starts with a 3. Not a 2. It's three decades. It means I am really an adult. Even if I wasn't married with a house and 6 small fur-burgers I'd still be an adult.
*sigh*
I think I will rebel and start acting like a teenager again. I never really did become naughty as a child. I was always behaved. If I don't have a crisis now, I won't get one til Mid-Life and that's just not fair, dammit!!
*sigh*
I think I will rebel and start acting like a teenager again. I never really did become naughty as a child. I was always behaved. If I don't have a crisis now, I won't get one til Mid-Life and that's just not fair, dammit!!
When Gossip Backfires
Every few days, the new dietary manager plops down in our office for a chat. He's a decent enough guy. Worked here at the care center about 18 years ago as a cook before marrying one of the caseworkers and moving on with his life. Fate led him back to us when Mr. PBM needed to be replaced and he's settled back into routine, now as the boss, and is doing well.
He enjoys our office because we are a friendly bunch. He is always telling me stories about his ex-wife, friends, daughter, childhood, etc. etc. etc...
Having worked here many years ago, he happens to have a few juicy stories about old staff members that he can tell as well.
And thus it was that yesterday he told me about a prior (married) employee that had enjoyed many a steamy affair with some of his old co-workers in the kitchen. Of course the names of these people rolled off his tongue with little effort and he was enjoying sharing the scandals.
It was not until he had finished his tale that I pointed out that one of the adulterous men in his story had married the SISTER of the woman he had the affair with. And that another of the woman's sisters now worked in our business office... and was married to a brother of that same man! Sisters married to brothers. How cute is that? (If you don't know the sordid back-history?) I also updated him on the fact that all three daughters of the woman who had this steamy affair now worked on the same shift here and it might be in his best interest to not share that story with anyone else.
Thank goodness I'm the only one he talked to. Double thank goodness I am not likely to repeat it... except, of course, on my blog where, blissfully, I am anonymous.
I wonder if he would have blabbed about this if he realized I knew nearly every single person he was talking about.
Ms.B
He enjoys our office because we are a friendly bunch. He is always telling me stories about his ex-wife, friends, daughter, childhood, etc. etc. etc...
Having worked here many years ago, he happens to have a few juicy stories about old staff members that he can tell as well.
And thus it was that yesterday he told me about a prior (married) employee that had enjoyed many a steamy affair with some of his old co-workers in the kitchen. Of course the names of these people rolled off his tongue with little effort and he was enjoying sharing the scandals.
It was not until he had finished his tale that I pointed out that one of the adulterous men in his story had married the SISTER of the woman he had the affair with. And that another of the woman's sisters now worked in our business office... and was married to a brother of that same man! Sisters married to brothers. How cute is that? (If you don't know the sordid back-history?) I also updated him on the fact that all three daughters of the woman who had this steamy affair now worked on the same shift here and it might be in his best interest to not share that story with anyone else.
Thank goodness I'm the only one he talked to. Double thank goodness I am not likely to repeat it... except, of course, on my blog where, blissfully, I am anonymous.
I wonder if he would have blabbed about this if he realized I knew nearly every single person he was talking about.
Ms.B
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sweet Memories
Sissy, Spooky, Fluffy (the 1st), Patches, Shiner, Sunny, Spunky...
My childhood was full of pets that stayed a while and then eventually were gone. Sissy the shephard mix stayed in Wyoming when my family moved out of state. She eventually died of tumors. Spooky, the black cat, had a run in with some nasty dogs. Fluffy had to go away when we temporarily shared a home with a family who's father was allergic to cats. Patches vanished a couple of years after we got him. My parents insist they did nothing to encourage the exit. He simply went away... Shiner was stolen out of our yard. Sunny and Spunky were very naughty puppies and went to "live on the farm" one day. Oh my!
But Jazz. Little Jazz. She was the 'lifer'. The long-term pet of the Turner family. The pups I had growing up were all mix breeds and I really didn't know much about purebred canines other than to recognize a Dalmation or Collie. When my parents came home with a little white and black poofball one day I thought it was a cat.
"What's a 'Pomeranian'?" I asked them.
Jazz quickly fell into her routine with our family. She was our friend, companion, and doorbell. Barked her brains out if she even thought she saw a shadow outside the front window near our door. But between her 'loud' (and annoying as hell) moments she was so sweet and loving. Instinctively she understood when we were in need of comfort. She knew when to leave us alone. She knew when we dropped a french fry on the floor. I suppose she was our vacuum too. If ever we dropped any food we knew "Jazz will get it!"
She passed away last year at fifteen years of age. My parents decided there would not be any new pets. They say the decision was made because they didn't want responsibilities but I suspect they don't think they could really replace her.
Time brings comfort and the lingering happy memories. I have a band of pets of my own that take up all my attention. But when a co-worker brought in her brand new (black) Pomeranian pup last week my heart went pitty pat and all my emotions and love for Jazz came flooding back.
Happy tears in my eyes.
Ms.B
My childhood was full of pets that stayed a while and then eventually were gone. Sissy the shephard mix stayed in Wyoming when my family moved out of state. She eventually died of tumors. Spooky, the black cat, had a run in with some nasty dogs. Fluffy had to go away when we temporarily shared a home with a family who's father was allergic to cats. Patches vanished a couple of years after we got him. My parents insist they did nothing to encourage the exit. He simply went away... Shiner was stolen out of our yard. Sunny and Spunky were very naughty puppies and went to "live on the farm" one day. Oh my!
But Jazz. Little Jazz. She was the 'lifer'. The long-term pet of the Turner family. The pups I had growing up were all mix breeds and I really didn't know much about purebred canines other than to recognize a Dalmation or Collie. When my parents came home with a little white and black poofball one day I thought it was a cat.
"What's a 'Pomeranian'?" I asked them.
Jazz quickly fell into her routine with our family. She was our friend, companion, and doorbell. Barked her brains out if she even thought she saw a shadow outside the front window near our door. But between her 'loud' (and annoying as hell) moments she was so sweet and loving. Instinctively she understood when we were in need of comfort. She knew when to leave us alone. She knew when we dropped a french fry on the floor. I suppose she was our vacuum too. If ever we dropped any food we knew "Jazz will get it!"
She passed away last year at fifteen years of age. My parents decided there would not be any new pets. They say the decision was made because they didn't want responsibilities but I suspect they don't think they could really replace her.
Time brings comfort and the lingering happy memories. I have a band of pets of my own that take up all my attention. But when a co-worker brought in her brand new (black) Pomeranian pup last week my heart went pitty pat and all my emotions and love for Jazz came flooding back.
Happy tears in my eyes.
Ms.B
Friday, October 5, 2007
Eat your heart out Mastercard
Buying your wife a Clone A Willy for her birthday: $40.
Shipping: $5.
Mistakenly having it shipped to your old address: Priceless.
...........................................
The DH had to come clean about one of my birthday presents...
Of all the times to send a 'package' to the wrong place.
Ms.B
Shipping: $5.
Mistakenly having it shipped to your old address: Priceless.
...........................................
The DH had to come clean about one of my birthday presents...
Of all the times to send a 'package' to the wrong place.
Ms.B
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
How did I miss it before?
Everyday.
Everyday I pass the water towers.
Twice!
Once on the way to work.
Once on the way home.
It wasn't until today that I realized.
They look like a pair of giant breasts.
How did I not realize this before now?
Ms.B
Everyday I pass the water towers.
Twice!
Once on the way to work.
Once on the way home.
It wasn't until today that I realized.
They look like a pair of giant breasts.
How did I not realize this before now?
Ms.B
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
New Toy
Playing the part of a grown up and doing things like having cars and purchasing a home has cut into my "fun money" for the past year. Luxuries like new cell phones are rare. Unless, of course, your contract ends and they need to bribe persuade you to subscribe for an additional two years.
SWEET. New Phone.
The Pantech 3Cb arrived in the mail a week ago. It's so cute. So tiny... so flip-phoney. Up to this point I've only ever owned candybar style phones. I hope I can keep track of this thing. It's so itty that I might just misplace it and never find it again! Maybe it will fall from my pocket and I'll vacuum it up before I ever realize its missing. HA!
The hubby searched high and low on-line for the face plates (since I had expressed interest in having the orange one) and could find nothing. Then he stumbled across a message board that had a post by someone who said they had purchased them at a local phone store. DH swung by the one near our house on his way to work. The employee there said they no longer sold the face plates. (AHH!) But then he wandered into the back room of their shop and returned holding a store display that had every single color on it. He handed it to DH and said he could take it for free. All we had to do was undo thediamond-plated, hard-as-steel flimsy screw that held them on the stand.
I am sure the novelty of changing the color of my phone will die down in a few weeks but for now its amusing the hell out of me. Orange, no green, wait, blue, or maybe red. Yes, today its red.
Any suggestions for tomorrow?
SWEET. New Phone.
The Pantech 3Cb arrived in the mail a week ago. It's so cute. So tiny... so flip-phoney. Up to this point I've only ever owned candybar style phones. I hope I can keep track of this thing. It's so itty that I might just misplace it and never find it again! Maybe it will fall from my pocket and I'll vacuum it up before I ever realize its missing. HA!
The hubby searched high and low on-line for the face plates (since I had expressed interest in having the orange one) and could find nothing. Then he stumbled across a message board that had a post by someone who said they had purchased them at a local phone store. DH swung by the one near our house on his way to work. The employee there said they no longer sold the face plates. (AHH!) But then he wandered into the back room of their shop and returned holding a store display that had every single color on it. He handed it to DH and said he could take it for free. All we had to do was undo the
I am sure the novelty of changing the color of my phone will die down in a few weeks but for now its amusing the hell out of me. Orange, no green, wait, blue, or maybe red. Yes, today its red.
Any suggestions for tomorrow?
I'm over it.
Turning 30 years old really isn't a big deal. I know its not. There is just that faint memory in my mind of being a child and thinking that 18 was old! If 18 was old, what must I have thought of those who were 30?
One foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, that's what.
Good grief.
I guess in this day and age, 30 is the new 20. So although I am still old in "child years", I'm still in my prime. And I did read once that women reach their sexual peek at age 32. Which means I'll be just fine for years to come. I hope the DH can keep up. He turns 25 in January (robbed the cradle, I did) and left his prime behind him long ago. Poor thing.
RAR!
Ms.B
One foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, that's what.
Good grief.
I guess in this day and age, 30 is the new 20. So although I am still old in "child years", I'm still in my prime. And I did read once that women reach their sexual peek at age 32. Which means I'll be just fine for years to come. I hope the DH can keep up. He turns 25 in January (robbed the cradle, I did) and left his prime behind him long ago. Poor thing.
RAR!
Ms.B
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