Chased by Children

I used to love Dilbert

I used to love to read Dilbert.  A glimpse into modern cubicle life.

Funny with a capital F.  That guy understands the medium of the strip cartoon.

Who is that guy?  Scott Adams. 

When I was toying with the idea of a blog I was surfing the net and went to the Dilbert blog at http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/   This was a while ago.  The blog was funny and was hosted on Typepad.  I thought this meant Typepad was a great idea for funny people....and here I am. 

I continued to read the Dilbert blog every day.   And the funniest thing evah happened.  I stopped loving Dilbert and I started hating Scott Adams.  He's  arrogant and bizarre and loves to say the phrase "cognitive dissonance" which he may or may not truly understand the definition of.

The puzzle here is that despite these ramblings and weird theories about there being no God but rather a "programmer" who came up with all of us -- he gets 800 comments a day (please note the slight exaggeration for comedic effect)

I wished I hadn't peeked behind the curtain.  I wish I was able to enjoy Dilbert.  I miss the ability to laugh at the evil H.R. Director Catbert.  On difficult days I would channel Catbert in the trenches of H.R.  I once gave my entire staff a Catbert picture book for a Holiday gag. 

Not anymore.  Those carefree days of Dilbert love are gone forever.  Cue melancholy music.

Making Stuff

First let me apologize for the couple of days that I took off unannounced.  Sorry.

Anyway, the reason for the no-blog-a-thon was that I was in the throws of creative fervor.  I was artistic.  I was inspired.  I was covered in glue dots and glitter.

Every year the King and I host a fabulous fall party and I always make the invitations.  This year I am way behind on this project because we had scheduling conflict after scehduling conflict (and I am still not thrilled about the date we landed on) but even at the latest start of all time I still felt I should make the invitations.  I know.  Shut up.

I'm not sure, but I think the ladies at my neighborhood scrapbooking place dread my yearly visit.  I don't get it...I drop enough cash to feed my children for six months but they still seem---  unenthused.  Could it be  because I appear at their door 45 minutes before closing?  I don't know.

After finishing this task, I am exhausted beyond the realm of human understanding.  Here was the process:  cut, glue, glue glitter, pop dot, pop dot, place, cut, glue, glue, place, glue dot, glue dot, glue dot, glue dot, place and then I top it all off with a sequine on the olive in the martini.  Phew.  And I made 50, uh huh.

So, all of my creative juices have been used up.  I must immediately take a nap to rejuvenate.  See ya tomorrow.

 

When I played Basketball and You were My Coach

Dear Coach Kilmer,

You were my favorite coach of all time.  This is saying a lot because Dave Miller was my grade-school coach and I think we can both agree he is a spectacular fundamentals coach and an all-round terrific person.

When I spoke at your funeral in 2003 I was too racked with grief to do you justice.  There was no death before or since that  affected me like yours.   In addition to being my coach, you were my coach at a critical time in my basketball career and more importantly at a critical/awkward/pimply/gangly/hormonal/icky/bizarre/teenagery time in my life.  The four years of high school were tough for me.  You made it easier.

When we were confused..you gave us direction.

When we were awkward...you gave us humor.

When we were scared...you gave us courage. 

We went to the state championship that year and won.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I remember the joy of that moment in that huge place, and the look on your face.   It would be easy to remember you for that alone, but that wouldn't scratch the surface of what you meant to all of us on that team.  The gift of having an adult male person in our lives who truly believed in us in the primordial ooze of high school was incalculable in the way it formed us into confident, competent women.

I want you to know that I try so hard to be like you (with a little Dave Miller tossed in) with the girls that I coach today.  I hope that in my own small way I can pass on to these girls part of the enormous gift that you gave me. 

Thank you Coach, for everything.

I know Something You Don't Know

You have got to check this blogger chick out. Lisa has 4 kids and lives in suburban bliss. She is seriously funny.  Her post today was on caffeine withdrawal and hot lunch in third grade.  So clever.  Go. Now.  Scoot.

A Table Full of Friends

At the end of the week, at the end of the day at the very end of the evening I found myself at a table of some of the nicest women I've ever met.  I know I am always going on about how lovely the women of Stepford are....it's true they are lovely.  Bear with me (yes, I know you threw up a little bit in your mouth)

I've moved around quite a bit.  Indiana, Illinois, Minnesota, New Hampshire and Illinois again.  I've made friends where ever I've gone.  Smart, funny, practical women turn up in every corner but not with the ability to devote themselves to one another like this group. 

I've told you already about Chi-Chi,  but each of them have gone above and beyond for me on numerous occasions.  I was wondering what I've done to deserve them and all their kindness.  But then I decided I would list the stuff I've done to deserve their kindness:

1.  I hardly ever let my dog pee in their yards....I let the cat pee in their yards far more frequently.

2.  The landscaping gods have not been kind to me.  The Stepford wives pretend to be sympathetic but secretly know that this makes them look good.

3.  When they knock at my door they instantly feel better about their wardrobe choices, parenting skills and housekeeping abilities.

4.  I throw a killer party every year with celebrities and nuns (some of whom are also celebrities or on the lam).

5.  I regularly give them the opportunity to watch my children while I go about my frivolous activities (no I do not accept payment, good question)

6.  I've gained roughly 2 tons since arriving in Stepford.  Who wouldn't love a friend like that?

7.  I have been known to attend a Southern Living party or two (read that: 6,578 parties in two years) .

8.  I am a font of good advice on topics like:  saving a kitten, talking to Joss,  burying the body, eating the evidence and how to cheat at Pokeno.

9.  I don't garden in a bathing suit.  In fact, I don't garden at all.  I'm scared of the people behind me.

10.  After a pear martini I'm ready to go home. 

Go to Market Mondays

Okay, this is the halfway point of my eight week excursion into online shopping.  As I told you last week this has been such great fun for me that I wonder if I will be able to stop.

I wonder if I can trespass upon you to leave me a comment about the series.  Keep it or dump it.  You can help me decide.  I thank you for your opinion in advance.

Now, to the good stuff I found this week:

How about this little number for your foyer?  This little thumbnail doesn't do it justice, you really need to take a look at this site.    This one is $4,500.  I don't own a crystal chandelier but would love to have a dining room or foyer that justified one.

When King George was a little boy his very Italian mother had a beautiful crystal chandelier in her dining room.  One day he and his Dad were playing ball in the house and accidentally hit the chandelier.   His very nimble father scooped him and his sister up and swept them out to the car in a flash.  The King says they drove around for hours until his father felt it was safe to go back home.  That story always makes me smile and wish that I could strike that sort of fear in the soul of my husband.

I'm a slipper girl.  Did I ever tell you that?  The King implemented a "no shoes in the house" policy back when it was his house and I was there for the first time...remind me to post on that later.  Anyhoo, I wear whatever Target will sell me.  They aren't pretty most of the time (although I do like the ones I have on right now that are sock monkey-esque).  These little numbers ($95) are probably too good for me...but I would like to find that out.  Red Envelope always has the nicest gift ideas.  If I wanted to start a  gift company I would just steal theirs.  Seriously.

Who saw Memoirs of a Geisha?  What?  Go watch it right now and come back.  I loved the beauty of that movie.  When they did exterior shots of the Geisha house you see these tulip-like drain spouts that make a lovely little tinkle tinkle sound. I have always admired (from a great distance) the water features common in Japanese gardens.  These, in particular, seem like such a beautiful way to direct rain.

Guess what? That's what, chicken butt.  I found them.  And here they are.  At $79.95 for 27 I think it's practically a bargain.  No I will not lend you the money.  What do you mean why....you are supposed to buy these items for ME.  ahem.  I'll just pretend this conversation never happened. 

Politics Anyone?

Who is this Woman and Why is she wearing a Bomb?

Yikes!  Yesterday, an MIT student entered Boston's Logan airport with a light board and a 9-volt battery  strapped to her jacket.  She was holding silly putty in her hand.  She looked like this:

Uh huh.  You'd think that if she put all the planning into making something that looked like a bomb she would have tried to look better for the inevitable cameras.  My mother would be pissed if she saw this on the news about me....not the offense as much as the fact that I hadn't combed my hair.  I kid you not.   I kid you not. 

Now I am all for giving people the benefit of the doubt.  What? Shut up.  But MIT is supposed to be for SMART people, right?  Even if she rolled out of bed grabbed her bizarre jacket and taped a couple of items she had lying around her room to it (before she'd had any coffee), and then made her way to the same airport that a few hijackers used almost exactly six years ago I still say that she is an idiot.  And I don't use that term lightly.  MIT should quietly dismantle her and rebuild her into something better. smarter. less terrorist-like.  with a root touch-up.

Wanna see a Newborn Baby Blog?

She delivered this morning.  Both her and the blog are doing well.  Please read her and comment a lot because that is mother's milk to new blogger's soul, right?  It's called Add Humor and Faith...mix well.  Which pretty much sums my mother up.  Please check it out:

www.addhumorandfaith.wordpress.com

Vacuum or Sweeper?

I need a new sweeper.  Um...because that's what I call a vacuum.  Uh huh.  The hillbillies that raised me called the vacuum a sweeper and so that's what I called it until I married King George who always pretended he didn't know what I was talking about when I used the term sweeper.    So, now, reluctantly, I too call it a vacuum but in my heart it's a sweeper.

I need one.

Desperately.

I cannot afford one.

Desperately.

So, I have been doing a little research.  Some of you out there have mentioned wanting to be buried with your Dyson (I won't name names) but this morning on the news they had one that use some sort of light to KILL THE DUST MITES that Oprah has so diligently warned us about all these years.   It's the Halo UVX.    Its UVC rays kill dust mites. Costs $399.  ALMOST 400 bucks!!!  But it does kill those dust mites....hmmm...

I'm used to something a little cheaper.  Something like this:

So tell me ladies, what sweeper vacuum are you using and why.  Thanks.