Remember

As you go to sleep tonight remember some special people in your prayers:

Our women and men in the service

The people they fight to protect

The people they fight against (God doesn't want them to perish eternally)

The children of this world... ALL the children

Their parents

The sick

The hungry

The lonely

The different

The teachers

Their students

The leaders of every nation, big or small

The followers in every nation, every single one

The single mom in line at the grocer's next to you

The elderly gentleman who waved at your kids

The server at McDonald's

The market vendor in Asia

The brothers and sisters in Christ who risk it all to share the gospel

The brothers and sisters who choose not to...

Which one are you?

From Under the Rock

Well, I  am currently hiding under a rock, or at least wish I was; the Hub had a Freak Out over the financial crisis Thursday, and we all spent the weekend treating our ulcers!  He's not one to Freak Out, but everyone is alloted a certain number of Freak Outs, and He's officially used one; we survived the blast.  Still smokin' though.

So, Saturday, I slipped into one of my beloved nursing bras (have 8 month old, remember?); and it felt odd.  I couldn't quite place my finger on it until I looked in the mirror, and was greeted by the leaning boobs of Pisa!  It seems that one of the underwires (the left cup) has gone AWOL!!!  How is that possible?  It isn't in the washer or dryer, or the drawer, or laundry basket, or the bra.  So where did it go?

Several months ago I experienced the phenomenon of the broken underwire - twice!!! - causing me to explore and coin the word "bodacity" in reference to my bossom.  This has, sadly, not always been the case; nor will it last, I fear.  I expect the Great Exodus when I finish nursing #4 (envision the Israelites leaving Egypt).  But for now, I am cursed with the repercussions of the BIg Busted Gal, as well as the oddities, such as the Disappearing Underwire.

I am still looking for the underwire, and hope to find it before my son does and takes it to school as a boomerang... this could get embarrassing.

More Dog Death Dreams

TOnight as I snacked on a delicious, yet not quite up to the par of my usual Pink Lady Apple, Braeburn apple, I was seized with the incredible desire to strangle the beagle, Devil Dog.  It could be that she was baying uncontrollably in the dark backyard at some poor sweet bunny - for 20 minutes straight. Doesn't her throat get sore?  Now, I know some of you want to call the SPCA, and I say go ahead, cause they will find well cared for loved-by-my-children animals; I love the hammies.  We do take excellent care of our canines, and thus they are still alive!!!

I used to love my dog (Satan Incarnate), but time and his aging process have made it possible for me to pray again tonight that he will go quietly to the great food bowl in the sky!  As for Annie, if we get rid of her, the Masses will want a puppy, and I just got new carpet in this house so we can sell it in about a year... you see my dilemna.  I anticipate that I will someday love dogs again, just not THESE dogs!

But, the Hub has just sneaked in here and asked me to do something about Annie, as she is on a bark-a-thon again - seriously - dry mouth? sore throat? hoarseness?  Oh, I'd like to do something about her, alright!

And, on a side note, I want to make the point that, yes, I do have a birthday approaching; no, it is not anything special (bunch of nosey Nellies!); no, I will not tell you my exact age.  Why should you care? So you can make fun of me? Say things like: "My doesn't she look good for (insert number here)?"  or "how much surgery do you think she's had to be looking that good at her age?" or "you're older than I am!!!" I do not particularly enjoy birthday festivities in my honor, unless #1 (who has a definite future in party planning) plans it. And no, you can not use my daughter to plan me a party - I hate surprises, unless they are diamond-age, and then I still would rather not have it as a surprise. I think I should be celebrated EVERY STINKIN' DAY BECAUSE I AM FABULOUS!!!!!  But just in case any of you darling friends of mine think it would be funny to prank me, with say, an ad in the paper????

I will avenge myself. Period. Be afraid.  I spare no expense on revenge.  You have been warned.  More like promised. I. Mean. It.  That includes you Kaci, Tigo, Jen, Debbie, Jeanne, Kelly, JuJu... I'll have to add the rest later!

JUST ASK JEN- I DO NOT LIKE SURPRISES!!!!!!  I SERIOUSLY TRY TO PEEK AT THE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS!!! I AM NOT A SURPRISE LOVIN' KINDA GAL AT ALL!!!!!

WHAT DO I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY?  Time with my friends, of course!!!  To eat, drink (Diet Coke, duh), and be merry croppin'!!!  I am happy that I get older every year, because the alternative is not in my plans for a while, amy the Lord will it so.  But I'd like to focus more on the "aren't I lucky to be so blessed with all these great people and a fab family" than the count the gray hairs and crows feet (not really a hit party game, know what I mean?). 

AND IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MY AGE?  You'll have to buy me diamonds!!!!!

On the Subject of the Eternity Planning for the Dog

I often fantasize of ways to kill Satan Incarnate;  my current involves spontaneous combustion. His, not mine.  It's a glorious day, when all of the sudden, all his barking and fussing at me causes him to swell up like an overgrown toad, or a very very pregnant lady in the heat of late August, and he just... EXPLODES!!!!  then I wake up.  It's just a fantasy.  Darn.

I am not a really graphic person, nor a hateful person, or a vengeful person;  but the dog is bringing out the worst in me tonight (OK, every night... every moment... of every day).  I mean, if I was mean and hateful, I lure the half-blind, mostly deaf old arthritic leaky pup into the road at rush hour... and I have thought of it, but I'd be too guilt ridden for all eternity.  I don't want him to hurt.  So, I pray every night that he'll just go to sleep and go quietly to heaven, just drift off peacefully in his sleep.

And every morning I wake up and he's still here.

I'm doing penance for something!!!  I've had multiple offers to 'take care of him', and several from the Hub, but so far I haven't put out a contract on him... yet... not today... golly, am I tempted!

So, until then, I am left changing his homemade diaper, and taking some comfort that he's miserably humiliated in it, and therefore I am compensated somewhat for all the misery he's caused us.  Nothing like a little payback - hey, I'll take what I can get!!!

JELLO

I know, I know, you're wondering what I could possibly say about this 'wiggly, jiggly' concoction that frequents soooo many of our holiday tables in various and assorted salads.  But I can say so much, really!

Today, I risked my gastronomical health by dining at the home of MILLIE, who is a truly delightful woman and beyond fab grandma;  the cooking thing may have passed its heyday for her. On many such occasions, I have eaten a meal at her house featuring multiple starches and the ever-anticipated jello salad (or just jello).  Who knew one could do so much with Jello?  Certainly NOT the makers of the stuff - they are creative, but I'm here to tell you they do not hold a candle to MILLIE!!!  She has concocted her OWN DISH: "Yum - Yum".  This is whipped Jello. No fooling.  It tastes like air, which isn't necessarily a desired culinary goal.  I am not sure why she has become so creative with Jello; it could be all the years of meal prep, but the food industry has exploded in my lifetime alone to provide creative kitchen opportunities.  It could be that she gets a wild hair every now and then to work in a test kitchen... so hers has become just that.  We are the lab rats.

I dread the invitation that begins with:" I've gotten a notion to do some cooking, and I tried this new recipe...", because it invariably concludes with:"I modified it, or I tweaked it, or I substituted...". BUt, the absolute worst is when she says:" I'm doing a little experiment, or I came up with...".  Take your Prevacid and Tums!

She's experimental in other ways, too.  I give her applause for her creativity!  She's ambitious in her ideas!  And, she has a fetish with freezing.  The Hub has a fetish with pickles, I have a fetish with Diet Coke.  I fault her not for her fetishes.  I fault her for freezing!!!  There is a moratorium of some sorts somewhere on how much and what can be frozen and for how long!!!!  How do we get a copy?  Seriously, when you can't tell what the food substance is anymore, skip the defrost and toss!!!!  If it's been in there for over 6 months, you obviously didn't like it enough to want it to begin with!  You probably won't like it the second time around!!!

True, I have made Turkey day dressing in a double batch and frozen one for CHristmas, which is about a month away... a month, get it?  About thirty days, little more, little less.  Hint. Hint.

I know, I know, you think: could jello really have sent her into such a tizzy?  Well, it's more of a train-of-thought thing than a tizzy, and yes.  Why?  Well, in my lifetime of family holiday tables, I've eaten Jello with cottage cheese, without cottage cheese, with fruit, without fruit, with nuts, without nuts, with whipped topping, without whipped topping, with cheese, without cheese, with grated carrots, without grated carrots... but today I ate jello in a way I have never tried.  I've eaten every available color of jello ever made concocted into some wiggly dessert or 'handed down from generation to generation' salad - grandma would be proud!  I have never eaten what I did today.

I ATE ORANGE JELLO WITH CHOPPED CELERY IN IT.  SERVED WITH THE OPTIONAL SIDE OF MAYO. 

YES, MAYO.

I PASSED ON THE MAYO.

Addendum

Please include: Grand Caymans, and St. Lucia. HA!

The Homebody

Tonight the Hub made a grave error.  He called me a 'homebody'; which, I am not. Homebodies have not traveled to Greece, Turkey, Jamaica, Mexico, France, and Italy.  They do not plan to go to Germany (was a slight possibility, now a bigger one!) next summer.  They do not travel in the US, even. They stay at home.  I'd like to be home more than I am, 'cause, frankly, I have a scrapbook room that needs some work, you know what I mean?  I have four children (my full time job), and the Hub (the OTHER full time job), six dwarf hamsters and two dogs;  I do not stay home!

All this came about because I went to pay my cell phone bill b/c Homeslice Hub hasn't done it, and they are now sending threatening messages via my phone;  once there, I discovered this nifty Blackberry phone that I thought would be truly GREAT for my birthday - I am obviously wrong (according to some sources, who shall remain unnamed for now, but we know who I am talking about). FYI: he has a tendency to pay bills once a month, and therefore, we have most on auto-draft as he tends to be late (oh, how I have had to rescue us with the gas/water/electric co. at my door b/c he forgot to pay the bill - yes, we have the money; he doesn't have the time - pokerstars is a demanding mistress; so is politics).

Back to the story: the Hub, I thought teasingly, told me I didn't need to hook up to the internet in my car - we have it right here at home.  We exchanged witty banter which came to an abrupt screeching halt when he said I was a homebody, and I didn't need to text or email while driving (OK, any idiot knows that is NOT a good idea... DUH!  And though I am exceptionally skilled, I value my life and that of my children - the Hub's insinuation that I would do that... absurd!)!  This he meant. The homebody thing.

Apparently, I don't look like just any idiot, but one that needs this explained. Thanks.  But, I can overlook that, because he's a fool in his own right, but the homebody comment... that means war.  

So, I got to thinking (about ways to off him in his sleep... one eye open, buddy, one eye open) about my role as a stay at home mom - one which I feel particularly blessed to have (seriously).  And I began to wonder if the fact that I often (always) put aside my own agenda for the good of my family and kids is really beneficial to them?  Do they see this self-sacrifice as a strength (like I do), or a weakness (like the Hub must)?  I always thought that with the Hub's inability to be available b/c of his job, that I had to schedule things either conveniently for him, or hire a sitter, or rely on help from the G's, that I was doing my job as a mom, even when it meant saying no to myself.

But am I teaching my kids, and the Hub that I don't matter?  Will they come away seeing that I love what I do, and give up things for them as a choice that I make from LOVE?  Or will they think I'm weak?  Will the Hub look at my sacrifice and think: "What about her dreams?"

 I think about my hopes and dreams, personal accomplishments and agendas, and I wonder if it's time to take them off the back burner.  Maybe it's time to turn up the heat on some of my projects, and see how the Hub handles it.  It requires much more from him than I think he understands, for me to want more for 'me'.  Less for 'him'.  

The question isn't whether or not I am a homebody; anyone with kids would tell you the days of June Cleaver are long gone, sister!   I do enjoy being at home, relaxing, being in 'my space' - and I should.  He enjoys it too!!!  The real QUESTION: can he take the heat?

Addendum

Apparently, for not going to the fair parade, I am sentenced to paying penance: I will now accompany not one, but TWO children to the Fair for a school tour - yea!!!!  But not to suffer alone, I have recruited the Hub to go to the third child's tour! HA!!!  And poor #4 is just along for the ride, so to speak (actually, little 'Barnacle Betty' will ride in the Hip Hammock, so she will literally ride.) SHe doesn't care as long as she's with me... all the time.  Gotta go rescue "BB" form the Masses...

What's Fair is Fair

THANK YOU, SISTER, FOR YOUR COMMENT!!!!  For all you other lazy-butt peeps, she's got our backs - yea!!!  Not to worry, I'm gonna start packin' (I wish for Paris, but no, the fair parade).

I realized just a little bit ago that we had two conflicting events: soccer practice and the fair parade!  What a colossal catastrophe!!!  I don't know how I'm gonna break this one to the kids, but I know which one is gettin' ditched... the fair parade!!

Blasphemy or wisdom?  Really folks, the parade is THE SAME every year, and so are the hardships involved!  We have to get there about an hour early, or parking is an issue, and feed the kiddies Mickey D's, which they'll get anyway, and wait for the stupid thing to start, and it's usually hot and humid, and today might drizzle a little (and my hair looks too Jaclyn Smith fab as I saw the Hair Guru today), and I'm going to opt for the no show!  ANd the route is on the main drag, so until they block the street off, we have to constantly keep suicide vigil lest one of them decide to dart into oncoming traffic.  AND there is the whole candy issue.

Parade walkers/ floaters throw candy. Lots of it. And the children madly scramble after it amongst other children with vehicles and tractors or horses slowly rolling by.  And there are always some kids that hog more than their share - last year it was MY kids, so proud - and they fight about it... should I go on?  Needless to say, parades aren't my favorite thing with kids.  And there's a Christmas parade, and a Valentine's Parade, and  Fourth of July Parade, and A 'Whatever ' Parade... OK, not so many, but we've got some seriously parade happy people around here!!!  And parade happy attenders, which reminds me of Sister O'Well, who will no doubt be on the front lines grabbin' candy with the best of 'em (and her grandson - she's teaching 'em younguns right!!!) 

But alas, heretic that I am, I will be on the other side of town at the soccer fields, happily smelling turkey poo!!!  I'll take the latter!

Baby Bullies

True Story.  Translate: I poop you not!  Today, #4 experienced her first encounter with a bully.  The older child, all of 18 months old, scowled at her and repeatedly tried to or did (fast little devil) snatch #4's butterfingers from her mouth.  I repeatedly told the little girl/monster,"No, no! That's not nice! She likes to suck on her fingers!", or "Be careful, you might hurt her arm!" And, the little offender tried to scratch her and smack her chubby leg - mind you, not while granny was looking, oh no, she wanted to hug the baby when granny was watching!

Finally, the grandma (where was mom?) saw her and scolded her and slapped her hand when she reached for #4 again.  I couldn't help but think to myself, who had very similar thoughts: what is wrong with your home life that you have to be so aggressive with a baby?  I decided it was time to get up out of my chair after the three or four minute assault, and return later for the child I had dropped off for an extracurricular activity.  That's right, this all happened in a few short minutes.  What is wrong with this poor little girl that she feels so angry?  Does she have siblings that pick on her, or parents that ignore her, or ... perhaps ... is she jealous of #4's obvious natural beauty????

I couldn't even begin to speculate, but I'm gambling jealousy is in the picture somewhere!  I couldn't believe this blatant display of aggression from a child so young towards another child she doesn't even know.  #1 expressed anger towards #2 when he was an infant, but she was really unhappy that he'd come along and challenged her position (we are still trying to help her understand that the world doesn't revolve around her - shock!)  But this was sibling rivalry; today's episode of bullying was different.  I'm sure there is psycho-babble to explain what happened, but I can tell you what will happen... I will not let this little vile, evil critter ( OK, that's a somewhat strong language, I admit) near my beautiful angel again!

Now, Me and Myself want to point out that it is really inappropriate that I've taken this story and manipulated it into discussing #4's unbelievably breathtaking beauty which transcends all cultures and time, and I would like to apologize for that sometime, just not now!  In fact, I'm pleased with how this has taken a turn from a rather sad, shocking tale of rural infant gang warfare to 'thinking on things that are good, lovely, true,...' (I would quote the scripture from the Word, but I'd have to stop and look it up).

Oh, and I called the Impact Martial Arts instructor and set up a private lesson for #4; we shouldn't have this problem again!!!

On the Start of Soccer Season

Aaaahhhh, the start of soccer season!  This will be our third season (which is actually fall and spring), and I really look forward to stripping my vocal cords at my 7 year-olds' games.  They are seriously fun!!!!  And my 4 year-olds' games will progress from 'bunch' ball, to the free-for-all kickfest!  Nothing like spending a Saturday morning inhaling the nearby turkey farms' offal  along with my morning Diet Coke!  I mean, you haven't lived until you've frozen your keester in the porta-potty in November relieving your bladder!!!!

And nothing smells as good as good ol' soccer field dirt... which means that my children will be forced to strip nekkid before they get into my nice new Platinum Level Vehicle.  But talk about scrapbook opportunities!  

So, I packed the kiddies 2 & 3 off to soccer practice with the Hub, and await the funfest of an extra dance class for #1, as she is going to dance at her dance school's exhibition at the Baxter County Fair, aka the Baxter County Freakfest.   Yep, fall is here, and the Fair is near!!!

I wouldn't miss the fair for the world!  Where else can one go to catch up on the latest in animal husbandry, and the experience known as "the variables of genetics".  Friday and Saturday nights are the best, but the real freaky people come out after dark, so stay at least 30 minutes after the sun sets; this is really telling, isn't it?  They only come out after dark?  Get it?????

I've always wondered why the tattoo parlors/ studios/whatever are so popular here.  Now I know.  ANd it is really only a select group that falls into the freaky category (and having a tattoo does not a freak make - plenty of normal folks have 'em too) and these folks have an abundance of 'tatts', and piercings, and chains... with the piercings, and mohawks and other spiked hair-do's.  ANd here is where I digress...

 The mid to late eighties spawned the punk look which evolved to goth with all its black, spikes, and mohawks, which then evolved into grunge, which then moved to alternative, and appears to be cycling back, this based on latest fashion magazines (hint: if it was BAD to begin with, why go back? Were leg-warmers ever really a good fashion choice?).  So, I look at all these freaky folks and think not how far out and wild they are, but how unimaginative and retro... can't they come up with something NEW?????

I am so BORED with spikes and chains and black and piercings and nipple rings (the last one was just to see if you were paying attention!)!!!!!

I admit I have been tempted in the past to get a tatt, but I imagined 1) the pain (no thanks), 2) what it would look like when I am old and wrinkly (NOOOO thanks!).  What are these kids gonna do when they hit their eighties and they have hair growing out of their nose piercing? Or they have to trim the hair in and around the brow ring?  What is they have crazy eyebrows and you can't even see the ring? What a waste!!!!  And  think about a SAGGY tattoo from weight gain, or one with stretch marks (from pregnancy or beer, or both).  

And just ponder the mental anguish of some poor healthcare worker when they change your depends and see a withered old teddy bear winking back at them.  Nice.  No, I'm all for fashion forward, not backwards; I'll pass on the 'Material Girl' look and leg-warmers - I'd rather be cold at the soccer field.

On the Subject of Putting the Masses to Bed

My apologies for yesterday's venting - THe Hub addressed the situation with the cyber-bully Superior Dude, and all is peaceful in Cyber Land once again.  No more Katie Bashing, unless dully warranted - and we all know there are plenty of valid opportunities!!!!

So, tonight I have whatever nasty virus the Masses have sooooo lovingly shared with me, and pretty much feel like walked on ground in eaten by worms horse poop.  And very snotty.  In fact, I question how much snot the human body can produce.  Surely, I've reached max capacity!  I'm sportin' the raw red spot at the base of the nares ... nice!

And this is why I want the Masses to GO TO BED!  I took some cold medicine (nighttime formula), and I feel gooooood!!!  I want to enjoy my legal cold-medicine high in peace - besides, I was having a nice conversation with ME, Myself, and I, and we were really get somewhere with the whole solve world hunger thing.  But, #3 has come upstairs 4 times now, for various lame, made-up reasons, and frankly, I'm about to lock the basement door and plug my ears to block out the screaming!  I'd pay serious money to go to bed this early!  I'd pay even more to have some chocie - milk and a show and then go to a nice cozy bed, get kissed on the head and have someone turn out the lights, and say 'nightie-night'!!!

Isn' t it ironic how we fight sleep as infants and children, avoid it as adolescents and twenties, and then when we can't have any b/c of having babies, we crave it like chocolate and Diet Coke (oh, you know you do!) , which is how we get hooked on chocolate and Diet Coke!  Are we hard wired this way, or is this some type of evolutionary mutation (this has nothing to do with whether or not you believe in evolution or Creationism... I'm talking nature vs. nurture here)?

Are we trying to catch up on all the sleep we missed during the first part of our lives?  Is THAT why I am sooooo tired?  Too many late nights?  Brings new meaning to the phrase: "Paying for your raising"!  Isn't anyone doing any research on this subject?  I'd sign up as a sleep test subject - I'll sleep a lot and let ya know how I feel in the morning!  Where do I report for duty?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

On the Subject of the Hub's Email

well, before I elaborate, let me give you an FYI: the doggie diaper is working nicely.  we had the new carpet put in today, and I employed said diaper, and have thus far experienced success!  It has been 3 hours 27 minutes, and 43, no 44 seconds!!!!!  Yippee!  No pee - and doggie still alive - win- win for both of us!

So, on to our more pressing topic, which wasn't a topic until recently (like 4 minutes ago).  It seems that the age-old ritualistic female-bashing is still practiced, especially amongst our more cro-mag-man species!  I tend to open most of the email, as this is a family computer, and the Hub has proven in the past to only tell me things that he and the Big Names cook up until the last minute, which does tend to irritate me b/c I need a little 'plan' time.  Anyway, I read a nice "Katie Bash" in one of them, relating to something years ago (I told him he couldn't go on a trip with the boys b/c he had been several places already that year for work or sport), and this fella makes some snide comment about it - my how hard I am laughing.  He fails to see the responsibility-free life he leads clearly through his superior-colored lenses: he and his spouse, who won't take his surname, have chosen not  to have children, mainly because she doesn't want any.  Fine.  I think she is perfectly capable of deciding whether she wants to be a parent; heaven knows that more people ought to make that choice - and some days I think I am not the best parent I could be!  But, we have four children; the Hub has a busy practice; and he also has a myriad of time consuming hobbies.  I have the right to say,"hey, enough fun for just you, Buddy! Stay home and enjoy your family so we can enjoy you!"  but according to Superior Dude, I am to fault.  Now, I have my faults, but the Hub will tell you that telling him he can't go do things is not really one of them.  I'm good with him fishing, or golfing, or a little road trip with the boys, but don't think you get 'em all in one month!!!!! ( In my defense, he had been gone for 5 weeks out of 6 1/2 months; we had three little kids, and that is a lot for them,... and me.)

So, I hope Superior dude feels so much better about himself for 'bashing' me.  I feel pretty much the same, thank you very much.  Except it doesn't really do much to endear Superior Dude, and his cronies, to me; just not feelin' the love.  I also, wish I didn't feel like I had to defend myself to him or anyone else.  But this is one time I doubt the Hub is gonna rush in with his guns a blazin', so to speak.  Funny, Superior Dude isn't whalin' on Jellyfish, who attends NONE of their functions, b/c of the BLack Widow (she hates all Jellyfishes' family and friends).  His lenses must be awfully foggy!!!!

So, (here it comes, another cosmically enlightening message), I don't think we should have to justify our actions on the best behalf of our families to anyone, and I think others ought to take into account that they haven't walked in my moccasins and evaluate our behavior with that in mind... OR JUST FRANKLY BUTT OUT!!!  And , so I should evaluate the behavior of others with the same open mind, and understand that there are circumstances beyond my knowledge causing their behavior and choices.

Food for thought.  Oh, THe Hub wants me to stop reading his email; he'll have to prove himself first.  Or better yet, why not stand up for me and tell the homies WHY I sometimes (VERY RARELY) veto his trips - and I said he could go on the one this past August, but homeslice couldn't work his schedule out. That is officially NOT MY FAULT!

He's got some choices... Door #1, or Door #2?  (tick tock, tick tock...)

We're All a Bunch of Hypocrits

We are. It's true. To some degree, we're all in this boat together... or are we?  I think some folks knowingly or unknowingly, however the case may be, sail their own cruise liners of contradiction.  I'd like to think mine is more of a dingy, but I'm sure I'm the captain of another cruise liner of some sort, or even two!!! So, I'm not without sin either... this I know; no need to start commenting NOW in order to enlighten me as to my particular sins... one by one I'm sure... I have a sister for that, thank you very much!

The Hub spoke with the Jellyfish last night, and the latter mentioned watching the Olympic events, and his usual soccer games, on the computer, as the Black Widow will not allow them to own a TV;  apparently this form of informative viewing (or recreational - the choice is yours - THERE IS AN 'OFF' BUTTON, ya know!) is "beneath her",... either that or she wants to live under a rock!  She'd rather read papers on her computer, about three daily - I don't know about you, but who the heck has time for that?  Thirty minutes of CNN, and I'm good for the day - I know who bombed who, who married/divorced who, who' s threatening to bomb who, and what the world thinks/ is doing about it; plus, I get local weather and a little local news - works for me.  

So, I really found the fact that they WATCH MOVIES, and SPORTING EVENTS, and WORLD EVENTS (like political events) on their computer, yet THe BW sees it as "acceptable", SOOOOO HYPOCRITICAL!!!!!!!!!!!  I'd like to therefore, make the following announcement.

Attention Black Widow and Jellyfish:

YOU ARE NOT BETTER THAN THE REST OF US!  BECAUSE YOU CAN AND DO USE YOUR COMPUTER TO ACCESS THE SAME VIEWING LINE-UP AS THE REST OF US CAN WITH CABLE, YOU ARE EFFECTIVELY EMPLOYING YOUR COMPUTER AS A (GASP!) TELEVISION!!!

IT COUNTS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU WATCH TELEVISION - NAH NAH NAH NAH POOH-POOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So stop acting like the rest of us are poor mindless amoebas and ADMIT IT, you bunch of Pansies!!!!!!!!  You watch TV!!!!!!  AND YOU LOVE IT!!!!  You probably want to own your own station so you can brain wash the rest of us into thinking that we don't watch TV, too!!!!!!!!!!!

Golly, I feel better!!!!  Seriously, do these people think they are fooling us? Themselves, maybe, but I find their condescension with regards to this/ and everything, a thin, veiled  attempt to boost self-esteem: the ol' "I'm better than you because...".  And aren't we all guilty of that?  I know, I said I wouldn't use this blog to write poignant essays that might change your life (this would be the example of the ol' " I think I am better that you because I obviously am...." J/K!!!), and most likely, honestly, it won't! But it has made me think about how I can change myself and stop the whole, "I'm better than you..." because we all have our quirks (yes, I do have more than the average bear).  

For example, I know folks that won't drink or dance or curse or skip a day of church because of the brand of religion they subscribe to, but they'll gossip like a bluebird in springtime!!!  And they look down on me, and probably talk about me too, because I make mistakes!  They have to drive the right car in the right jeans and keep up appearances - heck, I'm good in The Minivan, in whatever jeans I can zip that day and I wear sunglasses so that no one knows who I am because I probably didn't finish my make-up (do I hear an AMEN?)!!!!!! I see NO WRONG in a good boogie, or a dry Chardonnay, and YES! I do curse sometimes - but I really try not to as the BIble says it's offensive to God;  but it also says I'm sinful - SURPRISED????  That means that I too will gossip (or fail to use correct punctuation in said poignant essay)!  So, I am no better  because I get that it isn't about keeping score but about just running the race AGAINST MYSELF and keeping my eye on the finish line.  I cannot lord that over those that keep score, because I do that , too.

And I watch some TV (though I think TiVo and the cell phone - which they can watch TV on too! - are among some of our greater inventions),... AND SO DO THEY! SO THERE!

There endeth the lesson, Grasshopper!