I'm not sure I like this comparison.
But I always like to pass a test.

You are the grammar Fuhrer. All bow to your
authority. You will crush all the inferior
people under the soles of your jackboots, and
any who question your motives will be
eliminated. Your punishment is being the bane
of every other person's existence, because
you're constantly contradicting stupidity.
Everyone will be gunning for you. Your dreams
of a master race of spellers and grammarians
frighten the masses. You must always watch your
back. If only your power could be used for good
instead of evil.


What is your grammar aptitude?
brought to you by Quizilla


Thanks to the bloggers of A Capital Idea and Punctuational for pointing me to the test.

Boom! Crash! Or how I spent my vacation.
So I'm out in the yard watching sweet child o' mine play when I see this car speed down our residential street. I remember thinking 'He's not going to stop.' And he didn't. Ran the stop sign, hit a very large welding truck almost knocking it over, bouncing off and running straight through my front yard into my house. Directly into my bedroom wall, behind which my husband was sleeping. It also went through the area where my child and a bunch of the neighborhood kids had gathered early. We were lucky. No one was hurt seriously. Although I did have the urge to injure the guy who ran the stop sign.

Who would have thought?

While I am not surprised that David Crosby had a gun and marijuana in his suitcase. I am a little surprised that a N.Y. hotel wouldn't look at the records to determine who stayed in the room last, before rifling through the bag for ID. And I am really surprised that they would turn him in after the employee found the items in question.

Slacker
An apology to the blogosphere. Once again, I've been busy and let time slip away from me.

Superiority complex
Is it wrong that I watch Newlyweds to feel better about myself? I may never be a skinny, blond popstar but I can tell the difference between "lair" and "liar." It's the little things.

Size matters
I recently caught the rerun of the first episode of Airline. I realize the airline employees put up with a lot of garbage with a lot of tact. More than I would in most circumstances.

But I really question Southwest's P.O.S. policy. I will admit I am biased. I have a weight problem, a serious one although I could pass the seatbelt test. I resent them telling this poor passenger who had already had a tough day that he has to buy an extra seat for "his" comfort.

I've flown quite a bit. I've sat next to screaming babies, in front of seat kickers, behind snorers and in the vicinity of people who don't know when to let go of the perfume bottle's button. These are just something a frequent flier must deal with -- especially when on Southwest's cattle car. Cheap doesn't lead to comfort.

I don't see them calling out the management for a S.B., a S.K., a S.P. or a P.P. Would I blame an infant for crying and make the parent buy a seat far from me? No.

But not only do they ask the overweight man to buy an extra seat, they try to convince him it benefits him. The man gets his car stolen that morning, put on standby and then gets to pay for an extra seat. Wow, his day was very beneficial.

By the way, I'm not crazy about the P.O.S. moniker either.

In the beginning
How did people meet before online and speed dating?

Well my family began with a letter dated August 18, 1943 that starts 'Dear Miss Shirley' on Camp Shelby, Mississippi stationery. In that note, my grandfather from Texas introduced himself to my grandmother in Michigan. Two people whose paths wouldn't have crossed if my grandfather hadn't been in the Army with my grandmother's best friend's boyfriend.

He describes himself 'blonde' and '5 foot eleven and weigh a hundred sixty six pounds' from 'a small town in West Texas.' He tells her about Army life in Mississippi -- 'hot, chiggers and snakes.' It was only a little over a page in which he tells her he hopes she doesn't mind him writing.

I guess she didn't because they are more letters for the next three years. Most beginning 'Shirley darling.' They talk about living in her hometown which they didn't and moved to his hometown instead. The love literally pours off the pages. And it wasn't just letters.

They married on this date in 1946. It was a marriage that truly lasted until 'death do us part.' They raised three boys; lost a daughter at birth; had six grandchildren. They believed in 'in sickness and in health.' My grandfather's last years were on a ventilator and my grandmother woke up every few hours to take care of him -- moving her bed next to his hospital bed. They held hands up to the last minute of his life. She survived him by two years. And then the girl from Michigan was laid to rest next to her boy from Texas.

Happy Anniversary, Granny and Papa. I still miss you every day.

i've been here and there


create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

I obviously need to get out more. There are a few more I've been to on the way to some place else. But I don't think they can count.

Thanks to Bill at Off-Topic, JD at What Makes Me Tick(ed), Tom at Prints the chaff and Jeff at Side Salad for letting me follow in their footsteps.

It's official ...
I'm a copy editor. Today while playing poker on Yahoo, I got a dirty im from a stranger. And my first thought was "You spelled 'masturbate' wrong" and then "Eww, gross!"

A day of TV
Most of my day has been in front of the TV. Not very productive but very relaxing after a long work week.

Slept late. Ordered us a pizza online. And parked ourselves in front of the bedroom television.

Started off with the World Poker Tour Battle of Champions 2003. I am really getting hooked on this after watching only a few times. Maybe it's all the poker I played at my grandparents with the family. Although I'm sure it's probably more exciting with thousands instead of loose change.

Watched the Super Bowl. I wasn't really committed to either team. That probably made the game more fun to watch since I didn't have to worry about my team winning. Enjoyed the commercials. Halftime gets mixed results. So-so on Janet. Make it stop on Justin, Nelly and P. Diddy. And not enough Kid Rock (must be a throwback to my teens when I was into the hair bands. And I really didn't need to see Janet's breast at the end. Apparently I wasn't the only one since Survivor: All-Stars issued a disclaimer. More on this from Tom Mangan at Prints the chaff.

Followed the game with CBS I'm rooting for Rupert. Although Rudy is kind of a sentimental favorite because he reminds my of my grandfather. From next week's preview, I don't expect him around for long. Colby is my eye-candy favorite, so I hope he stays in for awhile.

Finishing up with World Poker Tour Ladies' Night and that should be enough television for one day.

Portfolio
Tonight I put the first page in my online portfolio at News Page Designer. Strangely enough, I was hesitant. I mean people see my work almost daily. But the idea that my peers (and my betters) would be checking it out was a little nerve-wracking. But now that it's done, I plan on keeping it up-to-date and adding more pages from the past. I hope to see some improvement as time passes and get some pointers. But I hope the comments are gently phrased. ;)

Caffeine fix
Starbucks comes to town. While there are some benefits in living in a mid-size town, one of the downsides is things take a little longer to get here. Well today, I paid $3.50 for a grande cappucino. Oh I've had over-priced coffee before in other places. But I must say I enjoyed having it served right here in my own hometown. Even if the poor west Texas kid behind the counter didn't understand coffeespeak.

Out of sorts
I've been grumpy and lazy lately. Not the best of the seven dwarves. I'm not sure what is going on. Maybe it's the Winter blues. Maybe it's because I'm trying to organize my life and get my finances in order -- which I've never been very good at either of those. Made a stupid mistake that wound up on the front of the local section and I hate that.

But I'm trying to snap out of it. I'm working on some ideas for the blog. I wouldn't mind doing some movie, book and tv reviews. I have lots of stories to tell, lots of opinions to spout and lots of top 10 lists to share. I promise it will get better. Don't bail yet.

Ten things guaranteed to send me over the edge:

Yes, I know some of these are irrational. But we all have our quirks.

10. Fast food order takers who interrupt. I'll tell you if I want extra cheese, if you will let me finish my damn order. Here is how I like it to go down: Listen to the order, repeat the order, give me the total and say "Thank you, please drive through." Is that too much to ask? And no, I don't want a hot apple pie to go with that.

9. Readers who bend books. Well, my books to be precise. What you do with your books is your business.

8. Clerks who pencil tap while I'm making a transaction. It will only take a second to write my check or swipe my debit card. And the this-job-is-so-boring fidget drives me nuts.

7. Drivers who honk the second the light turns green. If I've sat through the red light, then you can honk and feel free to give me the finger. But if it took a second to get my foot off the brake and onto the gas pedal, there is no need to blare your horn.

6. People who are touchy-feely the minute I meet them. I don't mind a handshake, but I don't need them to hold me while I talk. I think I have personal-space issues.

5. Movie-goers who chat throughout the movie. The repeating of dialogue or the singing of songs is especially discouraged.

4. Celebrities who whine about how tough their lives are and how inconvenient fame is. I pretty sure if you make a career of singing or acting you know you will get some attention. A recent whine from Ashton Kutcher prompted this entry.

3. Speaking of celebrities, Michael Jackson who puts red veils over his kids. Whether he is guilty or innocent, those photos of his kids under red lace veils just creeps me out. It gets at least a few minutes of tirade every time I see it.

2. People who assume they know my politics because of my gender or my profession. I'm especially irritated when they want to push their views without listening to mine.

1. Callers who phone before 10 a.m. I work late, I want to sleep late. If you call my house before that time, I expect a medical emergency or an emotional crisis. A double rant if you are calling to sell me something or remind me of an appointment.

A pox upon our house
We've all got a nasty cold except for the puppy. She sees no reason why the sick people should (1) not take her out every hour and (2) not play non-stop unless it is time for her nap, of course.

So in honor of our sickness, I declared a "no housework, no cooking, no do-anything-constructive day." I've alternated the puppy's outside breaks with my naps and spent the rest of the time Web surfing. Here's what I've come across so far.

CNN.com - 'TV crack': Pop culture eats itself - Jan. 22, 2004 I think this is a great headline, mainly because I'm addicted to 'TV crack.' As a child of the '70s and a teen/young adult of the '80s, I've enjoyed the VH1.com series on those decades. I will even admit to watching them in reruns.

FOXNews.com - Foxlife - Out There - Don't I Know You From Somewhere? I love these kinds of idiot-crooks stories. This one is an oldie but a goodie. Apply for a job, come back rob the store, and go to jail because they have all your info.

Happy Year Of The Monkey Today is the start of the Chinese New Year. I am a monkey ;) And I love that this site calls us monkeys "erratic geniuses."

I guess that's enough for now. Time for more cold medicine and a nap. COLD-EEZE take me away.

A professional
Today, I received an important package. Well, it was important to me anyway.

It was the information on my first professional membership. You would think as an educated woman who worked as a radio announcer, a MHMR case coordinator and an advertising designer would have joined a professional organization some time in the last 14 or so years. But I didn't. Maybe it's because I never really considered those other jobs as my profession.

When I graduated from college with j-degree in hand, I expected to be a reporter bringing down scandalous politicians ala Woodward & Bernstein.

I couldn't find a newspaper job in my hometown. So I took a job as a radio announcer for a tiny station. Every other paycheck bounced. But I will say this for it, it brought my husband and I together. I got offered a job at a small-town newspaper, but turned it down for love.

Finally got tired of the paycheck situation, so I switched careers to social services. I worked with people with mental retardation for a couple of years. While that was rewarding, it wore out pretty fast. So I took a job at a classified paper.

While I did get to do some designing it was all ads. Plus I had to work the front counter during the slow time -- which I hated. But I put up with it for almost 8 years.

When I tried out for my current job, I didn't think I would get it. Journalism school had been a long time ago and everything had changed. But from the very first day, it was like I should have been there all along.

Blogger Faux Pas
I know I should be posting daily, but my computer time was limited the last few days.

Reason 1: Sweet child o' mine (see previous post) is here for the weekend. So we have had lots of fun kid stuff to do. Reason 2: A large portion of today was spent in the car. We traveled to pick up our latest addition. Basset baby girl Lucy has been a big hit with adults and child alike.

On the way home I did find blog fodder though. I always can tell I'm in rural west Texas during hunting season when I see a sign for "deer corn" in a convenience store window. You can buy your six pack of beer and slim jims for refreshment in the deer blind and the corn to lure Bambi in all in the same store. Now that's convenience.

Sweet child o' mine
Sometimes in life things don't go according to plan. And sometimes that's good.
Babies are often unexpected, but my son was more so than most. I didn't give birth to him; I didn't adopt him. But he's mine nonetheless.
As with most stories, it's best to start at the beginning. Seven years ago, my husband and I were having some marital discord. Scratch that. We were fighting like cats and dogs. I knew something was up. I was unhappy; he was unhappy. So I left.
A few days after my departure, I called the house to tell him I had my half of the divorce filing fee.
And she answered. It was liking hitting tilt on the pinball machine. First, I thought maybe I had the wrong number. No, he was there. She was there. One of the worst moments in my life. Yes, I moved out. Yes, I was unhappy. No, I wasn't prepared for someone to be in my place so soon.
So I did a stupid thing. After they (yes, they) came by to get the money. I went to my former home to get a few things. They were my things and I still had a key, so it wasn't breaking-and-entering. But it probably wasn't a good idea either.
And there it was -- sitting in my former living room -- the crib.
When he found out I had been in the house, he called. It wasn't one of the worst fights we have ever had. A few months later, they came into my former workplace. Normally, I wouldn't have been at the counter. As luck (bad) would I have it, I was. On the day they got their first sonogram. Over the next year, I talked to him one time when he called to tell me a family friend had been in a wreck. And an ugly letter I sent him about getting the divorce finalized and telling him to quit stalling it.
The baby was born -- a boy according to the newspaper. I dreamed about him. I did a very strange thing and bought him a present. But it was never sent. It remained in the bottom of my dresser drawer.
About 7 months later, I get a phone call while in the shower. I was staying with my grandmother who needed a little extra help and my brother was in town for a visit. My brother answers the phone. He shouts through the bathroom door. I tell him take a message and then he says these four words: "I think it's Ken."
I don't know why I took the call, but I was glad I did.
We talked for hours while he drove into town. The new relationship didn't work. She was gone, the baby boy was two hours away. He was coming back from a visit. He asked me out on a date. A date with your ex-husband is a very strange thing. But it was a good thing, the love was still there.
Once the former girlfriend realized I was back, she refused visitation. So we went to court and we won back his father's right. While we were at it, we remarried.
And we picked up his son. He was (still is) the most beautiful child. Big brown eyes, his daddy's smile. I was worried -- what if this 9-month-old child didn't like me. But when I held him -- it was right. He wasn't born of my body, but he was a child of my heart from the very beginning.
For him, this is normal. He has a mommy, a daddy and a chriss.
It's so matter-of-fact for such an incredible bond. He writes me notes, saying "These are just for parents." When he dropped something on the playground, he told the other kid, "That's okay, my chriss will get it." He jumps up and down when I tell him I don't have to go to work and can stay home with him. He has my crooked little finger, defying all the laws of biology. And he has my heart.
No, sometimes things don't happen the way you expect. Sometimes they're better.

Reality check
Heaven for sale
People who buy stars are getting ripped off. Who would have guessed? Apparently when you buy one of those "name-a-star" kits, you don't really get the star and the name you give it isn't its official name.

I have two questions about this:
1- Did people really think they were buying a star for $49.95 plus shipping?
2- Do people really care if the star isn't theirs legally?

I once bought my husband one of the Adopt-a-wolf kits. We knew from the get go that we weren't going to be dancing with wolves. It was fun and it supported the pack in Yellowstone. Didn't matter that we wouldn't be bringing a our wolf pup home (probably wouldn't have got along with the rest of our menagerie anyway, especially the rabbit.)

At least some people with their own stars feel the same, a women mentioned in the above-linked article said she knew it wasn't official and doesn't care. She got a map, a certificate and a unique connection to her slain brother. Surely that's worth $49.95

And in the news ...

Surely this must be one sign of the apocalypse: ACLU Comes to Rush Limbaugh's Defense

Is that a snake in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?:Man Bitten After Putting Python in Pocket

Ewww: Condom-in-soup case resolved