friggatriskaidekaphobia

Today is Friday the 13th. Just thought I'd point that out.

Did you know that the fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia? Or paraskevidekatriaphobia?

Wikipedia states:

"The fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia (Frigga being the name of the Norse goddess for whom "Friday" is named and triskaidekaphobia meaning fear of the number thirteen), or paraskevidekatriaphobia a concatenation of the Greek words Paraskeví (Παρασκευή, meaning "Friday"), and dekatreís (δεκατρείς, meaning "thirteen") attached to phobía (φοβία, from phóbos, φόβος, meaning "fear"). The latter word was derived in 1911and first appeared in a mainstream source in 1953."

Actually - that entire article is really about the superstition(s) behind Friday the 13th. Jason Voorhees only makes a brief appearance under the heading of "Planned events on Fridays the 13th"

Now don't you feel like you've learned something today?

TTFN
JMS

The Story of the Pregnant Cat and the Missing Kittens

Sweetie and 2 of her 5 kittens

Once upon a time there was an old woman who lived in a shoe...

Wait, wrong tale.

Once upon a time there lived a small, sweet, adorable and very pregnant black & white cat.  She was a homeless cat, but she adopted some people who fed her and took care of her as much as they could.  She was so sweet that her many adopted humans called her "Sweetie."

The day came when she arrived back from wherever she spent her nights, and lo - she was thin again!  Exhausted, and starving - but very happy to get petted and loved on by her humans.

Her humans exclaimed, "Oh!  Sweetie!  Where are your kittens?"  Her humans tried to get her to lead them to where she'd hidden her kittens.  She seemed disinterested, wandering this way and that and lying down whenever the mood struck her.

Her humans worried about the kittens and spent hours stomping through the trees, bushes and undergrowth.  Walking through backyards of unknown neighbors.  Hoping for some sign, some tiny mew.

To no avail.  Sweetie's kittens were missing.

Almost 6 weeks to the day later, one of her beloved humans noticed Sweetie and one, teeny tiny kitten, on the back porch.  An hour later - there were 2 kittens.  By the end of the evening all 5 kittens had relocated to the bushes in her human's back yard.

Moral:

Don't count your kittens before they hatch.

Uh...

Don't underestimate the power of cute.

Uh...

Never mind.  I'm done now.  Does anyone want a kitten?  Or a perfect in every way momma kitty?  Please?  They all need loving forever homes.

TTFN
JMS

...Barest Grace of Fingertips...

No matter how hard I try, my arms, stretched as wide as they can go, will not allow even the barest grace of fingertips against the walls in the hallway at my office.  This frustrates me to no end in an OCD kind of way and I can't do anything, anything, to change it!  It's got to be no more than about a half an inch difference, but I'm just not tall enough.

This strikes me as strange: A 37 year old woman getting frustrated that she can't touch both walls in the hallway at the same time.

It's Tuesday and I do believe it is going to be one of those days.

TTFN
JMS

Observations, An Article & A Question

In no particular order, these are some things I observed or heard on the way to work this morning:

1) An Observation: I think it's funny that NPR used the first 5 notes of Beck's "Loser" as Bumper Music.

2) An Article: Did Harsh Interrogations Tactics Lead to Bin Laden? (I heard this on NPR this morning.)

3) An Observation: I was driving past my beloved lake this morning (the one that has a long, paved walking trail) and saw a duck, a female mallard I do believe, walking along the trail.  Just her.  Just the duck.  Getting ready to cross the crosswalk by the boat ramp.  It's the stuff you see in movies and on TV - not in real life.  It made me smile.

4) An Observation: I saw a woman driving an older model, red, Isuzu Trooper.  Her windshield was so cracked from hail damage it's a wonder she was able to see to drive.  And she was on her cell phone.

And a question:

What do you put in a May Day Basket?  I keep seeing "Flowers and Sweets" but is that ALL?  Really?  Hm...seems rather boring, if you ask me.

Oh - and Happy Cinco de Mayo!

TTFN
JMS

Did you ever have one of *THOSE* days?

Yesterday was Tuesday.  A normal, average, everyday....Tuesday.  Except that it wasn't.  I was discombobulated from the start; I'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed - figuratively speaking.  Not that I was in a bad mood, really - but I wasn't feeling completely OK mentally and emotionally, either.

So work was slow, but actually not too bad.  I was able to get everything on my plate accomplished for a change, which was a nice feeling.  But the gray, windy, water-logged day that loomed outside my window kept me feeling very somber.

Quite honestly - I think I'm still struggling internally with several things that have happened over the last few days, both in the main-stream media and in my own little personal life.  Not the least of which is the Osama bin Laden situation.  I'm sticking with Proverbs 24:17-18 - it comforts me right now.  It makes me remember that there is a reason I feel the way I feel about the entire thing.

"Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice, or the Lord will see and disapprove and turn his wrath away from him."

Of course there's also the death of my friend from church.  I'm still very reflective.  I'm trying to consider how best I can help the family he left behind - in my small way, and in my free time.  Which sounds sarcastic, but isn't.

Also, my car has been giving me trouble, which has me concerned because I have no idea how we're going to pay to have it fixed.  It stalled on me three times on the way home - in rush-hour traffic, of course - which caused me to call Our Favorite Mechanic to tell him I was headed over there and needed him to look at the car...right now.  I limped the car over to his shop, and after putting it up on the rack and staring at it for several minutes, Our Favorite Mechanic's Assistant announced, "Well, it ain't gonna be cheap," and then further explained the problem.  I don't recall the exact terms, except to say that something is leaking into something and it's corroding from the inside causing the thing (that's a technical term, you know) to short out, which is making the car stall.

After some fancy switching of cars, I finally arrived at my other job at church, an hour and a half later than I'd intended.

I then proceeded to smash my daughter in the face with the heavy front door of the church.  I'm still so upset about that I could cry every time I think about it.  I had my hands full of work stuff, and my purse and I was carrying all of our drive-through dinners.  I got my pinkie finger on my right hand around the front door handle and pulled, then stuck my right foot in the door and shoved it open with my foot.  Never dreaming that my daughter was behind the door!  I couldn't see her!  I thought she was behind me, but she was behind the door.  The door hit her square on the left side of her face and knocked her flat on her backside in the pouring rain.  Oh, did I mention it was pouring rain at that time, too?  Oh, did I feel awful!  She cried.  I dumped the food on the floor inside the church entrance and flew back out to get her, as she was still sitting in the rain puddles, crying.

Nothing is broken, thank goodness.  But she's going to have quite a bruise.  She had an ice pack almost immediately and then ate her food and played quietly with her brother until I got finished with my work.  Then we went home, I gave her some ibuprofen, and she fell asleep.

Several other things happened yesterday, too.  One of which is that I called my boss (for all intents and purposes) from the church and verbally vomited my frustrations on her.  Thankfully she is a very calm soul, and someone I trust completely, so she was able to calm me down and get me refocused on what I have on my enormous to-do list.

Suffice it to say, I am very glad yesterday is over.  Now I just have to get through today and I think I'll be OK for the rest of the week.

Thanks for letting me get all that out!  Phew.  OK.  Now moving forward...

TTFN
JMS

And then there's this one, too...

I was particularly upset by the first sentence of the last paragraph.

"Intelligence officials say that key tips on the bin Laden courier network came from detainees, some of whom were exposed to enhanced interrogation tactics."

NPR Article: Who Gets the 27 Million Reward Offered for bin Laden's Capture?

See? I'm not the only one questioning...

NPR Article: Is it Wrong to Celebrate bin Laden's Death?

I'll probably stick my foot in my mouth...

I got in the car this morning, and turned on News Talk like I always do.  (It's either that or NPR, depending on my mood.  Sometimes I prefer silence - so the radio stays off and I can then focus on the rattles of my car; or my brain.)  Almost immediately after turning the radio on, I heard the fill-in voice behind the microphone tell me that Osama bin Laden is dead.  Cause for celebration.  People gathering all over the country to say "Yay, America!"  Still others gathered to protest, of course, because what would we be if we weren't allowed to speak our minds, right?

I don't know much about anything - but I'm getting ready to speak my mind.  I don't expect anyone to agree with me.  What follows is not the product of a highly-educated brain, nor one that follows politics closely, and is often guilty of being woefully behind-the-times on current World events.  I'll probably stick my foot in my mouth quite often, and quite well.  But maybe not well enough to shut me up.

So back to Osama bin Laden.  A Seal Team went in to an area and raided a bunker, executing bin Laden while they were at it.  I don't know if there was anyone else there, but I'd be willing to bet more than bin Laden's life was lost during that raid.  Then there were documents and other things that need to be sifted through and maybe brought back for analysis by keen military minds to determine if who, if anyone, needs to follow bin Laden to wherever his black soul went.  I think I even heard "them" say that "they" brought bin Laden's body with them as they exited, stage-left.

Now that you have my very uneducated and unprofessional synopsis of this major World event...

Why is it cause to celebrate someone's death - even someone like bin Laden?  Yes.  OK.  Yay!  They got him.  Woo!  The War on Terror actually accomplished something and all of our military men and women are not and have not sacrificed themselves for our country for nothing.  Isn't that what this has been all about?

I'm not military.  But I understand what sacrifice is.  People sacrifice themselves for the greater good - whatever that "good" may be - on a daily basis.  Mother's make sacrifices for their children and their families.  I can attest to this on a first-hand basis.  Father's make sacrifices so their families can have a roof over their heads and food on the table.  And it's not gender-specific anymore - but you get the picture.  Many extraordinary men and women of this country - YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS AND CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN - sacrifice themselves for this country you live in every single day.  God sacrificed his only son for us!

And still, within all that, we celebrate death?  These people who sacrifice themselves are celebrating a death?  I'll say it again - I'm not that smart about these things.  It makes me think of a line from Forrest Gump: "I'm not a smart man, Jenny - but I know what love is."  So I am not a smart woman, folks, but I know how I feel when I hear about a celebration when someone dies.  Even a bad someone like bin Laden.  And for that matter, who am I to judge?

I attended a memorial service this weekend for a friend.  A good man.  A young man.  A father of 3 beautiful little girls; 10 years old and 5 year old twins.  It was a sudden, and unfortunate death and his family is going to have a lot of pieces to pick up.  A lot of healing to do.  And, I'm sure, may questions to ask.  I haven't electively gone to a funeral - ever.  I have been to too many out of obligation, or familial relations.  Entirely too many.  More than I ever would want to count.  And some that I SHOULD have gone to I couldn't due to distance or some other obligation.  The plain truth is I really dislike funerals.  I want to remember the person whose LIFE we're celebrating or memorializing the way I want to remember that person.

I guess my point is that, though bin Laden's life was not necessarily one to celebrate, neither do I think that his death should be celebrated.  Yes - we've made some progress and this may be exactly what we need to be able to move forward, end this war, and get out of Dodge...  But still, bin Laden was one of God's creatures.  He's got a lot of explaining to do, don't you think?

****

I'm sorry - I've read back over this and I know it's disjointed and probably doesn't really make any sense - but I'm not going to change it.  Think of it as Jen's Train of Thought.  It's probably not a good idea to try to make any sense out of what comes out of my head anyway - it will just confuse you.  But thanks for reading it.  And thanks for not raking me over the coals.

TTFN
JMS

Whether there's weather

We have had an interesting week, weather-wise. And I am here to describe it in verse, giving credit where credit is due.

Today it is sunny, cool, and breezy, but not cold. A totally gorgeous day.  A day that, should Mother Nature decide to make one like today every day, many would rejoice.  Today makes me think of this poem, by Frank Asch:

SUNFLAKES
If sunlight fell like snowflakes,
gleaming yellow and so bright,
we could build a sunman,
we could have a sunball fight,
we could watch the sunflakes
drifting in the sky.
We could go sleighing
in the middle of July
through sundrifts and sunbanks,
we could ride a sunmobile,
and we could touch sunflakes —
I wonder how they'd feel.

Wednesday was volatile with many tornadoes and terrible wind and rain and hail and fatalities, damages, accidents and lots of devastation. I hadn't a poem in mind, but Emily Dickinson is always good, and this one seems to apply:

THE STORM
There came wind like a bugle;
It quivered through the grass,
And a green chill upon the heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the windows and the doors
As from an emerald ghost;
The doom's electric moccason
That very instant passed.
On a strange mob of panting trees,
And fences fled away,
And rivers where the houses ran
The living looked that day.
The bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled.
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the world!

TTFN
JMS

Thoughts on TMI in the World of Blogging

My good friend LN was questioning putting too much "out there" on her blog. She used phrases like "pray about privacy needs"and "devoid of self-preservation instincts" and "how much self-disclosure is good?" Then she asked for my thoughts.

I responded to her via email, but I went back and re-read what I'd written and thought that it might be worth posting here. So below is my response to her. Here's hoping it may be useful to others, should they stumble across it.

Hey [Friend],

I totally understand. The unfortunate thing is, it really doesn't matter anymore. If someone wants the information, they'll get it. However, that being said, you can see that I have no filters on my blog, either. I do, though, try not to disclose major pieces of information - such as the exact names of people I talk about or places I go or if I am at home or on vacation; what have you. Those who know me, who know who and where I am and what I am up to most of the time will already know these things, and those who don't already know you - don't need to know. But they may just be interested in the story or whatever you've decided to talk about that day. I think that while it is important to be as careful as you can, there is a point that it can get ridiculous and become more of a pain than it's worth. At that point, then YOU don't want to do it anymore either. And I think, why put so much of yourself into something if you can let someone else ruin it for you.

I think if you want to be open, and talk about things as they come to you, then you need to make sure you feel comfortable with it. You can make it where only your friends or your followers can see what you write - and therefore you know those who read your blog are actually interested. You can also make it so that no one can read anything unless you invite them or unless they have a specific password - but at that point are you hindering your readers to such an extent that they'll just stop coming to "visit" you?

I personally like to be able to say what I think when I think it. To construct my sentences to my liking and use words that please me. To have that little bit of open and free expression and hope that I can brighten someones day if they stumble across it. I've had visitors all across the globe, either on purpose or by accident or at random. So at this point, after having the blog for longer than [Kiddo] has been alive, it doesn't matter anymore. I have nearly 600 posts now. My life, thoughts, words, deeds, writings, stories - whatever - are already out there. I'm careful, but I'm not obsessive about it.

Ultimately I think it's a choice. If you want it to be searched and found and read by "the masses" security settings will stop that cold. If you want to be more selective with your readers and followers, security settings are there for that. The beauty of this is that you can customize your blog to fit your needs. It needs to be what YOU want it to be, not what someone else thinks it should be.

Just my 7 cents.

Love you!

♥J

"Yep...we're going home now! Bye!"

Yesterday evening, I took Little Bit down to the marina so we could go for a walk and then maybe play on the playground for a while. Sadly, none of this took place.

While we did go down there, we saw my friend RM who I hadn't seen in about a year and stood there talking for a few minutes. A very few minutes. All too brief, because I miss my friend. But that's not the point of this post. As we were standing there chatting, the dark and foreboding sky that hovered over the city to our Southeast loomed and was, quite honestly, a bit concerning. Then the wind started picking up. It got stronger and stronger, whipping this way and that, shooting debris at us that stung and caused us to shield our eyes.

My friend and I looked at each other and, with little preamble or sentiment, essentially came to the same decision: "Yep...we're going home now! Bye!" And we got in our respective cars, out of the violent wind, and went home.

Little Bit was none too pleased about the prospect of going back to the house after such a brief outing - and it was difficult to explain to her why Mommy turned right around and went home. I'm quite sure that she would have played happily, even with the wind. The water on the lake churned up so quickly that there were white caps on the crests of the waves. I've never seen the water on that lake get so choppy. The drive home was interesting, watching leaves, branches, dust and other detritus* fly through the air. See the trees bending far beyond what seemed natural; in most cases without breaking. Watch the cars on the road ahead of us swerve this way and that; guided by the wind.

When we drove up our street (we live about 5 minutes away from the marina where we were) the little house across the street had some activity that was curious. A large branch had fallen in their front yard, nearly touching and blocking their side door, and rendering their on-a-pole-in-the-yard-installed satellite dish completely unusable. It must have just happened, because by the time Little Bit and I got out of the car, the folks across the street were coming out of their house to survey the damage. I'd bet they were watching something on television and went outside to investigate only when their satellite signal vanished. No one was hurt.

So I had to explain to Little Bit why we went home so quickly - and she didn't really understand the concept of what strong storms, and especially strong winds, can do. So we watched a couple of videos on YouTube with tornadoes and other strong wind-related storms. She got it. Then she decided that she was afraid a tornado would come to our house, and by this time I was absolutely certain that would not happen, so I assured her that she was fine and that we, and the house, and the dog, and all her toys, were completely safe.

Her response? She shrugged, went into her room to play with a game and then 15 minutes later was sound asleep - all on her own. It was about 7:00 p.m.

Where were Kiddo and Hubby during all this? At a local church for a Cub Scout meeting.

This morning, all seems well with the world, however there is storm damage all over the place, and people still dealing with power outages. There are even a couple elementary schools that have had to delay opening by a couple of hours due to clean up of storm damage.

And guess what? We get to do it all over again today!

I'm SO glad I work right by a large bank of windows!

TTFN JMS

* Yes, I had to look it up. I thought it was "detrius" but apparently it's not.

The Secret Life of Socks

The story below is one I wrote for the now-defunct "Knox Writing Club" blog that I started with my friend RK back in 2008. I don't know that I ever posted it on my blog - and frankly I'm too lazy to go back and hunt for it through the nearly-600 old posts!

Will this change the way you feel about your socks?

TTFN
JMS

*****
The Secret Life of Socks
We never know what the day will hold. Is today going to be quiet and uneventful, conversing with our fellow drawer-mates in the dark silence, or will it involve any number of tortures? That all depends on what the human decides when she wakes up.

Right now, all we can hear are muffled sounds from Outside; the world outside our small, dark existence. This is the time of day when we all panic. Everyone here is quiet; not even breathing; wondering. “Who will it be today?” There are some lucky ones here, though; those few who rarely get chosen because they are the wrong color or the wrong season – but it changes.

We’ve all be holding our breath now for hours. Outside, all is quiet. It seems like the water has quit running and the human must be dressing. The hairdryer hasn’t started yet. That is our cue - when the hairdryer stops. We can only guess where she is in her daily ablutions.

At length, the muffled sound of the hairdryer begins and simultaneously, every heartbeat in the drawer speeds up. Panic sets in. How much pain do we have to go through? When will it be enough? We cannot help but fervently wish that another of us will be chosen, leaving the rest of us to live another day in blissful peace.

This life is not one that any of us has chosen. It was chosen for us. We are but socks. How, then, can we have our revenge on the ones who made us? The one who purchased us? Or, the one who tortures us regularly? We have all made plans. We have all fantasized about turning the tables on our captors and inflicting horrendous pain upon them. We were made soft. Revenge is a thing of dreams.

Presently, we hear the silent footsteps of our captor bearing down upon our dark prison. The drawer opens, and the human reaches in to select one or two of us for further inspection in the glaring light of the bathroom. Shortly after inspection, one of us is sent back, happy at being rejected, while the other is violently separated from their sole mate and shoved onto a waiting human appendage.

This is the least of the pain. The worst of the pain begins once our fellow captors, the shoes, are secured in place on this same human appendage. The day begins in panic, and ends in pain.

Later, being within an inch of losing our lives, we are ripped off the human appendage, and tossed uncaringly into a waiting, smelly pile. Some of us have been bloodied. Some have been ripped, torn, cut. Some have been stretched to something totally unlike our former selves. But we all begin the waiting process for the finale.

After recovering somewhat during our one or two day stay in the smelly pile, we are hauled away in a basket, deposited into a swirling horror of water, nearly drowned, spun violently, and then heated until we nearly melt. Then, if we are lucky, we are reunited with our sole mate, and put back into our prison, only to begin again.

If we are unlucky, we lose our sole mate permanently to the Unknown. The Outside world is a cruel, cruel place. If you are ever unlucky enough to be granted a wish, do not wish for this life. Only the strong survive.

~(C) JMS, November 2008

K-Mart with an attitude problem?

I was trying to be so good; really making an attempt to keep up with my blog on a more consistent basis. I guess THAT didn't work, considering that it's been 22 days since my last post. (I feel like I've just confessed an unpardonable sin...and no, I'm not Catholic; not that it matters.)

Either that or I've gone to some kind of "Bloggers Anonymous" meeting. BA. "Hello, my name is Jennifer and it's been 22 days since my last post."

Sheesh.

So what have I been up to for the last 22 days? Frankly I'm not sure where to begin, because though I'm sure something interesting and blog-worthy has happened, I'm drawing a blank on what it could be. Although (and I don't know if I've already posted this way back when) I did give up all forms of soda for Lent. Beginning on Ash Wednesday, which was March 9th - and I haven't had any soda at all. Which quite honestly is saying something because for me it is almost a nectar of the gods. It wasn't quite as bad as giving up smoking (which I STILL crave to this day nearly 12 years later) but it was pretty bad.

Kiddo and Little Bit, as I said to my friend LN last night, constantly amaze and inspire me. They lead me to be a better person - though sometimes it is, admittedly, difficult. Last night was difficult, for example. What started out as an attempt to do something fun with the kids wound up being a struggle not to strangle one of them (specifically my older male offspring) in the middle of K-Mart. But God told me, in his way, that murdering my child, in front of so many witnesses no less, is probably not the best way to deal with the behavior issues being displayed by my beloved son and that I should probably just go home, get him settled in for bed early, and let him sleep off the attitude. (Wow! What a badly-constructed sentence...I should be ashamed.) Which is exactly what we did.

Little Bit was tired, too - so she went to bed and fell asleep almost right away.

Then I read a bit and then it was lights-out for me as well.

TTFN JMS

Ambrosia and Advice

The most beautiful ambrosia on a cold, rainy, early morning in late March is the hot coffee I hold in my hand. OK - so I guess I'm not holding it right this second, because I can't do that and type, too - but you get the picture.

****

Today is my sister, HB's, birthday - so I wanted to take a minute to wish her a happy happy, wonderful wonderful and hope that she has the best birthday ever. And to give her a little bit of sisterly advice: Don't let anyone stress you out, beat you down, or otherwise dampen what should be a joyful day. Rise above it, smile, and know you are loved by so many.

I love you, sweet sister.

TTFN

JMS

Is it? Isn't it?

Well, that's for them to find out, 'cause we certainly don't know.

What we originally thought might be Hashimoto's Disease, may not be. So we're back to the drawing board - and the drawing board looks like an appointment with the Endocrinologist on April 7.

Yay.

I hope he sticks another needle, or five, in my neck.

However, as much as I'm looking forward to going through this...again...I am looking forward to finally finding out the true answer to the problem.

I won't go into detail as to why it may not be Hashimoto's Disease - but suffice it to say that there was a "failure to communicate" - and not on my part.

'Nuff said.

TTFN JMS

It really was strange. And it was SO REAL!

I had a very strange dream last night:

We (whoever "we" were) were at this big fancy hotel somewhere in a city I didn't know. But there were cobblestone streets out front. No main front doors, but somehow we were inside this hotel. I tried to leave, and had to go to this counter, where one would think the front door should be - but it was this massive glass display case-type counter in a "frame" around two teeny tiny Alice-in-Wonderland-esque doors.

I asked the guy behind the counter how to get out and he pushed some button which opened a trap door at the base of this glass cabinet and said, "Through here."

I thought he was joking, but he was dead serious.

So I hauled my butt (and for whatever reason, I was in this long broomstick hippie-type skirt) through this little trap door and behind the counter. There were other people back there suddenly, also trying to get out. Lots of pushing and shoving ensued - but eventually the little Alice-in-Wonderland doors opened and we all were able to squeeze through onto the cobblestone street.

Just as I got outside, and stood up long enough to consider brushing myself off - I noticed a large white Volvo station wagon careening around the corner to my left with a bunch of people I didn't know inside of it. They looked like there were taking the car for a joy-ride! The top of the wagon had been cut off, so it became a very odd-looking convertible.

It suddenly occurred to me that that Volvo was my husband's car! Those people were stealing my husband's car!!! I saw the Princess sticker that our daughter had stuck on the back of the seat and the car seats thrown in the back of the wagon, which only served to reinforce my original thought. Yep. They were stealing my husband's car!

Uh uh. No way. Not gonna happen.

Immediately I was like a ninja (it was pretty cool, actually!) and I leaped into the moving car and started hauling these guys out of the car and tossing them out on the street one-by-one. Finally I came to the driver, who swung the car sharply left and off the road, where we came to a stop. I think he was hoping he'd throw me off, but I was Spider man! I was Superman! (Well...woman, but you get the picture.) I held on and threatened to pop his head off if he didn't exit the car immediately, which he did.

So there I am, standing next to the semi-crashed, newly convertible-ized, great white beast of a Volvo, watching all these guys I didn't know try to peel themselves off the pavement after being tossed bodily from a moving vehicle - wondering how all this had happened? Suddenly, hubby is next to me wondering the same thing.

That's about all I remember.... It really was strange. And it was SO REAL! I'll have to remember to tell hubby about it!

TTFN

JMS

A Long Drive

I followed Bumblebee almost all the way to work today. I wonder what he's in town for? ***** I had about 25 minutes of "Me" time this morning - and it was great! I had the radio on while I was driving to work: Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, ZZ Top, Goo Goo Dolls - just to name a few. It was a good thing...and I feel mostly ready to face the day. It's amazing how several minutes, a long drive, and a few really excellent songs is so good for the soul. TTFN JMS

Something's a-brewin'

It's Wednesday - and it's unusually quiet at my office. Aside from the "white noise" that comes from the ceiling, I don't even hear any phones ringing! The usually verbose and volume-challenged manager who sits on the other side of my cube wall is so quiet I hardly knew he was even in the office today! :-) I hear occasional typing. Occasional conversations. But everything seems muffled. Am I getting an ear infection that is making the sounds of the world around me fade away? It feels like something is brewing - and I don't mean the storms outside my window. TTFN JMS

Hire Me!

OK - so even though I'm not actively looking for a job - I would very much like to work in the town in which I live. Please, those of you who know me and know where I live, if you want to hire me in an Executive and/or Administrative Assistant capacity, please please please let me know! I'll send you my full resume to peruse at your leisure. But in the meantime - here's a tidbit: Summary of Qualifications & Related Skills Over ten years of experience in the administrative field * Extensive customer service and client relations experience * Proven track-record of time-management, meeting deadlines and completing projects * Proficient in many standard computer applications including MS Outlook, MS Word, MS Excel, MS PowerPoint, MS Publisher, MS Access as well as a working knowledge of other applications such as SharePoint, FS Pro (Formatting Solutions, Information Mapping Software), and iGreenTree Hiring Manager * Ability to win in a team-driven or self-driven environment * Excellent written, verbal and interpersonal skills * Typing speed up to 90 wpm So...do you want me yet? TTFN JMS

Auntie Jen

Guess what? Today is Monday. Oh - wait! That's not news, is it? **** Actually I have absolutely nothing new and interesting to report. Nope - that's not really true, either. Wow - am I off my game today or what? My little sister is pregnant!!!!!! I was so excited about my younger brother and his wife when they found out they were pregnant, and then when my new, sweet, niece came this past December - just bliss. And now my little sister!? I'm going to be an Auntie again! How awesome is that? She and her hubby are pretty much beside themselves right now! And so am I. Now I just have to wait until they found out what gender the new little one is - so I can begin baby blanket making in earnest! TTFN JMS