Just a reminder.
Women are very much like fine wine. We really do improve with age. I wouldn't trade by wisdom for anything. I am truly grateful that I know longer need the approval of all those I meet. It would be nice but certainly isn't necessary.
Only with age does a woman realize that other people's opinions don't matter all that much. We needn't worry what they think about us cause most likely their not thinking of us at all.
It's enough now to walk into a room knowing that we're looking our best. We don't need admiring glances and false compliments. Again, it would be nice but certainly not necessary.
Only with time do we blossom and become the very best us. I know this to be true because there are those fascinating women in my life who only continue to improve with each birthday.
My darling, Darlene is among those woman. They are smart and brave and have endured things that young woman can't imagine. And having endured every kind of disaster and loss, they remember what's important and they remember how to smile and they remember how to keep going.
And that is far more impressive that anything a bunch of grapes can accomplish.
So celebrate and enjoy. Treat yourself with kindness. We'll teach the next generation of woman what true grace and style really is.
And remember, I will always picture you standing on a hill, your hair blowing in the wind and you... to proud to chase after it.
Happy Birthday, darling, Darlene.
With love.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
Goodness Gracious Me
Once again, I can only give credit where credit is due.
First of all, most of the credit for this blog goes to the inspirational encouragement of my darling cousin Ken. A little credit goes to the guy names Guido who made me an offer I couldn't refuse.
Secondly, I must thank the teachings of King Stephan for the deeply embedded need to always do and say the proper thing. The title says it all. Goodness. Gracious. Me.
So no matter how drunk and mouthy the golfers are on men's night, I smile and bring them another round. No matter how cheap the seniors are and how they complain about the price of coffee ($1.25 - unlimited refills and who the hell knew that men who should be suffering from prostrate trouble can still consume on average 4.6 cups per sitting) I smile and bring them another round.
No matter how the golfers who like to do 18 holes a day for 6 months of the year complain about the fee of $350.00 which would work out to less than $2.00 a round. I smile and make a joke.
No matter how the employees complain about missing their alotted 20 minute coffee break and how it was someone else's job to fill the ketchup and clean the grill. I smile and encourage them and assure them that they are doing a bang up job and are in the running for employee of the month.
No matter how much grief I endure, I smile and am gracious. Cause King Stephen raised me to be nice and get along. Well King Stephen, thanks a lot.
First of all, most of the credit for this blog goes to the inspirational encouragement of my darling cousin Ken. A little credit goes to the guy names Guido who made me an offer I couldn't refuse.
Secondly, I must thank the teachings of King Stephan for the deeply embedded need to always do and say the proper thing. The title says it all. Goodness. Gracious. Me.
So no matter how drunk and mouthy the golfers are on men's night, I smile and bring them another round. No matter how cheap the seniors are and how they complain about the price of coffee ($1.25 - unlimited refills and who the hell knew that men who should be suffering from prostrate trouble can still consume on average 4.6 cups per sitting) I smile and bring them another round.
No matter how the golfers who like to do 18 holes a day for 6 months of the year complain about the fee of $350.00 which would work out to less than $2.00 a round. I smile and make a joke.
No matter how the employees complain about missing their alotted 20 minute coffee break and how it was someone else's job to fill the ketchup and clean the grill. I smile and encourage them and assure them that they are doing a bang up job and are in the running for employee of the month.
No matter how much grief I endure, I smile and am gracious. Cause King Stephen raised me to be nice and get along. Well King Stephen, thanks a lot.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Another Day
It's April. The snow is just beginning to melt and it will be several weeks before it's shorts weather. OH NO, IT'S JUST SEVERAL WEEKS BEFORE IT'S SHORTS WEATHER!
Over the winter, despite my best intentions, I just kept gaining weight. I'm not sure how it happens. Probably my thyroid. I mean I ate a ton of diet food and low-fat treats. I watched several exercise shows on TV. I bought a pilates cd, an excercise mat. And yet, here I am with an extra 15 pounds attached to my midriff.
Even the commoner has started making comments. This is a bit of the pot calling the kettle black. Apparently he doesn't see what I see when he looks in the mirror. But when the man who is contractually obligated to love you starts to notice the extra poundage it's time to take action.
So yesterday we decided to make our move! We're going to walk. It cheap, efficient, the perfect plan. So this morning, as we were enjoying our coffee in bed, we started discussing breakfast. What should it be? Waffles? Bacon and eggs? Bagel and cream cheese? All of the above? No! First we'll walk.
I looked at the outdoor thermometer. -2. Not very appealing. That's OK. We will work up a sweat with a brisk walk. Perhaps even a run.
So after an hour of motivational conversation we put on the necessary clothes and headed out. Geeze, that wind is cold. It's kinda icy in the shade. It's too muddy in the sun.
We managed to make a whole mile. Well OK, 1/2 mile and we stopped for coffee at the sister-in-laws. Then another 1/2 mile home.
We are now safely in the house. The commoner's frying fish. I'll throw together a pasta dish with roasted garlic and butter. Maybe a little cream.
A girl can sure work up an appetite with a workout like that. Anyway I'm convined that by the time shorts weather is here we're bound to be buff. Wish us luck!
Over the winter, despite my best intentions, I just kept gaining weight. I'm not sure how it happens. Probably my thyroid. I mean I ate a ton of diet food and low-fat treats. I watched several exercise shows on TV. I bought a pilates cd, an excercise mat. And yet, here I am with an extra 15 pounds attached to my midriff.
Even the commoner has started making comments. This is a bit of the pot calling the kettle black. Apparently he doesn't see what I see when he looks in the mirror. But when the man who is contractually obligated to love you starts to notice the extra poundage it's time to take action.
So yesterday we decided to make our move! We're going to walk. It cheap, efficient, the perfect plan. So this morning, as we were enjoying our coffee in bed, we started discussing breakfast. What should it be? Waffles? Bacon and eggs? Bagel and cream cheese? All of the above? No! First we'll walk.
I looked at the outdoor thermometer. -2. Not very appealing. That's OK. We will work up a sweat with a brisk walk. Perhaps even a run.
So after an hour of motivational conversation we put on the necessary clothes and headed out. Geeze, that wind is cold. It's kinda icy in the shade. It's too muddy in the sun.
We managed to make a whole mile. Well OK, 1/2 mile and we stopped for coffee at the sister-in-laws. Then another 1/2 mile home.
We are now safely in the house. The commoner's frying fish. I'll throw together a pasta dish with roasted garlic and butter. Maybe a little cream.
A girl can sure work up an appetite with a workout like that. Anyway I'm convined that by the time shorts weather is here we're bound to be buff. Wish us luck!
Friday, March 17, 2006
The Return
Sometimes a princess just has to set aside her pride cause some stories are too good to keep to yourself. This is one of those stories.
I am not a very good flyer. I've avoided rides at the fair for 25 years, even the Ferris Wheel makes me queasy. Airplanes go that much higher and are therefore, that much worse. So on the way to the Bahamas I popped a couple of Gravol and everything went fine. I landed feeling great. Being the smart cookie that I am, I naturally thought to do the same on the way home.
As the poolboy chauffered us back to the airport I popped a couple of the little pills. Feeling pretty proud of myself for remembering too.
Even though the plane from Nassau to Miami was small and pretty bumpy I managed not bad. But the ride from Miami to Minneapolis was terrible. Lots of turbulence and although the pilot apologized profusely, I felt worse and worse. I had a heck of a headache and my stomache was churning. I'm not very brave so rather than suffer I popped another pill.
By the time we landed in Minot. I was full out sick. I couldn't even eat and you know that never happens to me. I made it back to the hotel and crashed hard. However, a didn't get a lot of sleep. I kept having to hit the bathroom. We drove home the next day and I felt pretty good.
I started to unpack and in my make-up bag I found my bottle of Gravol. It occurred to me that this was not the bottle I opened the previous day. A little detective skills soon found the other pills in my purse. Yep, clearly labelled, too. Dulcolax.
Things I've learned:
Returning home is kinda shitty.
What happened in the Bahamas - stayed in Minot.
Carefully read all labels before taking any medication.
I am not a very good flyer. I've avoided rides at the fair for 25 years, even the Ferris Wheel makes me queasy. Airplanes go that much higher and are therefore, that much worse. So on the way to the Bahamas I popped a couple of Gravol and everything went fine. I landed feeling great. Being the smart cookie that I am, I naturally thought to do the same on the way home.
As the poolboy chauffered us back to the airport I popped a couple of the little pills. Feeling pretty proud of myself for remembering too.
Even though the plane from Nassau to Miami was small and pretty bumpy I managed not bad. But the ride from Miami to Minneapolis was terrible. Lots of turbulence and although the pilot apologized profusely, I felt worse and worse. I had a heck of a headache and my stomache was churning. I'm not very brave so rather than suffer I popped another pill.
By the time we landed in Minot. I was full out sick. I couldn't even eat and you know that never happens to me. I made it back to the hotel and crashed hard. However, a didn't get a lot of sleep. I kept having to hit the bathroom. We drove home the next day and I felt pretty good.
I started to unpack and in my make-up bag I found my bottle of Gravol. It occurred to me that this was not the bottle I opened the previous day. A little detective skills soon found the other pills in my purse. Yep, clearly labelled, too. Dulcolax.
Things I've learned:
Returning home is kinda shitty.
What happened in the Bahamas - stayed in Minot.
Carefully read all labels before taking any medication.
Friday, March 10, 2006
The Bahamas Vacation
Last week the Commoner and I hopped a plane (actually 3) to the Bahamas. It took considerable planning, 19 years to be exact, but we finally saved enough beer cans, pop bottles, and loose change to take a tropical vacation. And while living as a displaced princess has been difficult, it finally paid off. So 2 Gravol and a shot of vodka later we landed at the Nassau International Airport. And then it happened. Don't let anyone tell you that Bahamians are not as smart as us. They are, in fact, much smarter. Instantly upon arrival I was recognized for the princess that I am. The friendly natives greeted us off the plane by giving the Commoner a bag of peanuts and for me (drum roll, please) a tiara and silver wand. We were then whisked off in an unmarked vehicle to avoid paparazzi.
The Bahama Mama and the Pool Boy were disguised as natives and did not reveal their identity safely down the road from the airport. We celebrated by stopping at a local restaurunt and ate deep fried conch (pronounced konk). I fell in love with peas and rice, a native dish but really, really like the drink named after Darlene. Upon our safe arrival in their compound we discovered that we were indeed living in a palace. We were shown to our suite served a few more drinks and called it a night. The next day was a whole other adventure. A story for another day.
The Bahama Mama and the Pool Boy were disguised as natives and did not reveal their identity safely down the road from the airport. We celebrated by stopping at a local restaurunt and ate deep fried conch (pronounced konk). I fell in love with peas and rice, a native dish but really, really like the drink named after Darlene. Upon our safe arrival in their compound we discovered that we were indeed living in a palace. We were shown to our suite served a few more drinks and called it a night. The next day was a whole other adventure. A story for another day.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
This one's for Julia
This edition is dedicated to Julia, whose spirit is sweet.
Once upon a time, there were many sisters.
There was Abby, and Ella and Julia and more.
Indeed, when all told, there were sisters galore.
The family kept growing til we couldn't keep track.
Though some tried to escape and oh yes, that's a fact.
After Abby had fallen and was kept in traction,
the sisters gathered round, prepared to take action.
Ella and Olivia got out of doing the work,
sometimes, the pair can really be jerks.
So in came sweet Julia to tend to her needs.
She worked up a sweat she went at such speed.
But who knew that Abby's need were so extensive.
The shopping alone, was getting expensive.
So although Julia was sick she tended to Abby.
She smiled on days when Abby was crabby.
She cleaned the kitchen and scoured the pots.
She scrubbed the floor and removed all the spots.
She picked up the mail and parcels from Sears.
She tended the wound and coped with the fears.
Somehow she did this, all with a smile.
Julia always did manage to go the extra mile.
It started off innocently enough.
The one day, last week, the going got tough.
She had picked up the groceries, the mail and more.
She took out the trash and vacuumed the floor.
And then Abby said, "Oh dear sister, could I give you one more chore?"
Julie nodded and smiled and said "that's what I'm here for."
Abby said, "there's just a bit of laundry, if you don't mind."
And that's when poor Julia found herself in a bind.
So Julie went down the steep and crooked stair case - 57 steps in all.
She clutched her heart and tried not to fall.
The laundry was piled almost to the roof
Just look in her closet if you need any proof.
She sorted and prewashed the delicate cloth.
She hauled the water and filled up the trough.
It took her 6 days, and as many nights.
But finally Julia had won the fight.
She toted the clothes up the 57 steps.
Though at this point she was all out of pep.
And Abby smiled sweetly and said, one more thing.
"Could you iron my pyjamas?"
And that's when the shit hit the fan and Julia stomped out and got in her car and drove off. Last we heard she was spotted near Regina and was heading south. If you see her please tell her it was just a joke and there's rice pudding waiting for her if she comes home.
Once upon a time, there were many sisters.
There was Abby, and Ella and Julia and more.
Indeed, when all told, there were sisters galore.
The family kept growing til we couldn't keep track.
Though some tried to escape and oh yes, that's a fact.
After Abby had fallen and was kept in traction,
the sisters gathered round, prepared to take action.
Ella and Olivia got out of doing the work,
sometimes, the pair can really be jerks.
So in came sweet Julia to tend to her needs.
She worked up a sweat she went at such speed.
But who knew that Abby's need were so extensive.
The shopping alone, was getting expensive.
So although Julia was sick she tended to Abby.
She smiled on days when Abby was crabby.
She cleaned the kitchen and scoured the pots.
She scrubbed the floor and removed all the spots.
She picked up the mail and parcels from Sears.
She tended the wound and coped with the fears.
Somehow she did this, all with a smile.
Julia always did manage to go the extra mile.
It started off innocently enough.
The one day, last week, the going got tough.
She had picked up the groceries, the mail and more.
She took out the trash and vacuumed the floor.
And then Abby said, "Oh dear sister, could I give you one more chore?"
Julie nodded and smiled and said "that's what I'm here for."
Abby said, "there's just a bit of laundry, if you don't mind."
And that's when poor Julia found herself in a bind.
So Julie went down the steep and crooked stair case - 57 steps in all.
She clutched her heart and tried not to fall.
The laundry was piled almost to the roof
Just look in her closet if you need any proof.
She sorted and prewashed the delicate cloth.
She hauled the water and filled up the trough.
It took her 6 days, and as many nights.
But finally Julia had won the fight.
She toted the clothes up the 57 steps.
Though at this point she was all out of pep.
And Abby smiled sweetly and said, one more thing.
"Could you iron my pyjamas?"
And that's when the shit hit the fan and Julia stomped out and got in her car and drove off. Last we heard she was spotted near Regina and was heading south. If you see her please tell her it was just a joke and there's rice pudding waiting for her if she comes home.
My Holiday
My trip to see Darlene.
Air fare $943
Luggage $100
New shoes $120
New clothes $1247
Bathing Suit $69
One that doesn't make me look fat $1,000,000 (don't worry, I couldn't find one)
Gifts for my hosts $1.79
A chance to have Darlene and Ken to myself for 1 week, priceless. For everything else, there's debtor prison.
Air fare $943
Luggage $100
New shoes $120
New clothes $1247
Bathing Suit $69
One that doesn't make me look fat $1,000,000 (don't worry, I couldn't find one)
Gifts for my hosts $1.79
A chance to have Darlene and Ken to myself for 1 week, priceless. For everything else, there's debtor prison.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Position Wanted
This week there was no time for blogging. I was updating my resume. No job in particular but like a good Girl Scout, I wanted to be prepared. If perhaps Donald or Martha realize they are still in need of better talent I need to be ready.
A resume is tough to do because it is important to get your great attributes across on paper. Unfortunately, my best attributes are difficult to put into words, though I've been told my eyes are my best feature. I'm not sure if that's pertinent or even true. (I believe it came from a sailor in a bar near closing time.) So it took some doing to put my best foot forward (my left one - the right one has a bunion.) I outlined my education, my work experience and my unique skills and talents. I'm sure there is a Fortune 500 company looking for a woman who can put her fist in her mouth.
I read it over carefully, realizing the importance of accuracy.
I found the wording a little tricky. How does one explain that I can smile, nod and appear sincere when inside I'm thinking you're full of crap and wondering what's for dinner. Oh yes, interpersonal skills. I know how to unjam the copier and check my email. Excellent technical knowledge. You get the idea.
It then occurred to me that perhaps rather than being accurate or even truthful I might be able to sell myself better if I embellished just a little.
And off I went. I threw around phrases like "the concept and proven effectiveness" "along with exceptional interpersonal skills and a passion for a job well done" "sharing my expertise" "technical skills to produce effective educational materials and the enthusiasm to present these ideas to others".
I sound amazing. If I had a company I would make myself management right off the bat. I created the picture of the perfect administrative assistant. But why stop there. At this point, I should shoot for the moon. Upper management for sure. Or perhaps with creative writing like my resume I should contact the Brothers Grimm. Maybe the market is ready for a new fairtale.
A resume is tough to do because it is important to get your great attributes across on paper. Unfortunately, my best attributes are difficult to put into words, though I've been told my eyes are my best feature. I'm not sure if that's pertinent or even true. (I believe it came from a sailor in a bar near closing time.) So it took some doing to put my best foot forward (my left one - the right one has a bunion.) I outlined my education, my work experience and my unique skills and talents. I'm sure there is a Fortune 500 company looking for a woman who can put her fist in her mouth.
I read it over carefully, realizing the importance of accuracy.
I found the wording a little tricky. How does one explain that I can smile, nod and appear sincere when inside I'm thinking you're full of crap and wondering what's for dinner. Oh yes, interpersonal skills. I know how to unjam the copier and check my email. Excellent technical knowledge. You get the idea.
It then occurred to me that perhaps rather than being accurate or even truthful I might be able to sell myself better if I embellished just a little.
And off I went. I threw around phrases like "the concept and proven effectiveness" "along with exceptional interpersonal skills and a passion for a job well done" "sharing my expertise" "technical skills to produce effective educational materials and the enthusiasm to present these ideas to others".
I sound amazing. If I had a company I would make myself management right off the bat. I created the picture of the perfect administrative assistant. But why stop there. At this point, I should shoot for the moon. Upper management for sure. Or perhaps with creative writing like my resume I should contact the Brothers Grimm. Maybe the market is ready for a new fairtale.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
I FEEL LUCKY
I think this is it. The big one. The chance we've all been waiting for. The lottery.
I hear there's an unclaimed ticket in rural Manitoba for last weekends lottery. This has got to be my big chance. No more 9:00 - 5:00. I will finally get to sleep till 10:00. Then rush off for my pedicure. After Rachel Ray has prepared me an exotic breakfast served in the sun room. The Commoner will go to finishing school and learn which fork to use and that butter knives should not be used to clean under the fingernails.
I will have a vast wardrobe of the latest fashions. I will travel extensively doing acts of good will. I will start a charitable foundation. I will learn to paint in watercolours.
I will gather up my family and vacation in the tropics. Get ready cousin, you're getting company.
My staff will ensure the house is spotless, the garden well groomed, the laudry fresh smelling and neatly pressed. Even the sons' rooms will shine and no longer smell like "old bachelor". The expensive accountant will find me a tax haven. Oprah will probably want me on her show. And even though TV adds 10 pounds I will look fabulous. I will have better shoes than Oprah.
And even after I become famous for my philanthropy, I will remain humble.
The only glich is this plan is that I don't buy lottery tickets.
Now all we can hope is that whoever won is family or at least a really, really good friend.
Would the winner of the January 21 lottery please contact me at dontwannaworkanymore.com ?
I hear there's an unclaimed ticket in rural Manitoba for last weekends lottery. This has got to be my big chance. No more 9:00 - 5:00. I will finally get to sleep till 10:00. Then rush off for my pedicure. After Rachel Ray has prepared me an exotic breakfast served in the sun room. The Commoner will go to finishing school and learn which fork to use and that butter knives should not be used to clean under the fingernails.
I will have a vast wardrobe of the latest fashions. I will travel extensively doing acts of good will. I will start a charitable foundation. I will learn to paint in watercolours.
I will gather up my family and vacation in the tropics. Get ready cousin, you're getting company.
My staff will ensure the house is spotless, the garden well groomed, the laudry fresh smelling and neatly pressed. Even the sons' rooms will shine and no longer smell like "old bachelor". The expensive accountant will find me a tax haven. Oprah will probably want me on her show. And even though TV adds 10 pounds I will look fabulous. I will have better shoes than Oprah.
And even after I become famous for my philanthropy, I will remain humble.
The only glich is this plan is that I don't buy lottery tickets.
Now all we can hope is that whoever won is family or at least a really, really good friend.
Would the winner of the January 21 lottery please contact me at dontwannaworkanymore.com ?
Friday, January 20, 2006
A Sing-A-Long
I'm sure you are all familiar with "The Sound of Music". Julie Andrews neglected to sing these verses in the movie. But she had two bosses. First she worked for God and I bet he was pretty easy going. Then she worked for the man she eventually seduced and married. So I guess she didn't feel the need to finish the song. So here are the unsung verses. You know the tune so feel free to sing along.
8 hours a day I work here for a pittance
It wouldn't take much to bid it good riddance
Benefit packages don't mean a thing
If I am lucky I'll leave here by spring.
The pad on my desk is now covered in doodles
I'd chuck my work - the whole kit and caboodle
The members are ugly, no chance for a fling
If I am lucky I'll leave here by spring
I sit at my desk until I'm feeling dozey
To tell you the truth my job just ain't that rosey
But it's the weekend and that makes my sing
If I am lucky I'll leave here by spring.
CHORUS:
Oh this job bites
Oh the work stings
And I'm finally sad
I simply remember my bonus is due
And then I don't feel so bad.
Thanks for joining in.
8 hours a day I work here for a pittance
It wouldn't take much to bid it good riddance
Benefit packages don't mean a thing
If I am lucky I'll leave here by spring.
The pad on my desk is now covered in doodles
I'd chuck my work - the whole kit and caboodle
The members are ugly, no chance for a fling
If I am lucky I'll leave here by spring
I sit at my desk until I'm feeling dozey
To tell you the truth my job just ain't that rosey
But it's the weekend and that makes my sing
If I am lucky I'll leave here by spring.
CHORUS:
Oh this job bites
Oh the work stings
And I'm finally sad
I simply remember my bonus is due
And then I don't feel so bad.
Thanks for joining in.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Oh, I love surprises!
People often joke about Alzheimer patients. The fact that they get to meet new people every day, etc… And then I got to thinking…. What about me?
Yes, I’m forgetful but that’s not today’s issue. Today’s issue is the possibility of people surprising me every day. And I don’t mean with flowers and candy. No every single day I’m surprised with the stupidity of others. Now you would think that at my age I would have learned what people are capable of but it really still does surprise me.
Today’s example: One of my co-workers had to leave work because her daughter was sick. You’re right, that makes sense. Except that the daughter is in high school. So I wonder, couldn’t she stay home alone, or couldn’t she have spent that day at her grandma’s. I must admit I was shocked. I am almost speechles, but you know me better than that.
But the day is young. It’s not even noon. I’m sure before closing time I will have experienced yet another surprise, and once again, be shocked at someone else’s stupidity. I can only imagine how often I, myself, surprise others.
Yes, I’m forgetful but that’s not today’s issue. Today’s issue is the possibility of people surprising me every day. And I don’t mean with flowers and candy. No every single day I’m surprised with the stupidity of others. Now you would think that at my age I would have learned what people are capable of but it really still does surprise me.
Today’s example: One of my co-workers had to leave work because her daughter was sick. You’re right, that makes sense. Except that the daughter is in high school. So I wonder, couldn’t she stay home alone, or couldn’t she have spent that day at her grandma’s. I must admit I was shocked. I am almost speechles, but you know me better than that.
But the day is young. It’s not even noon. I’m sure before closing time I will have experienced yet another surprise, and once again, be shocked at someone else’s stupidity. I can only imagine how often I, myself, surprise others.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
These are a few of my favourite things
I'm feeling good today for no particular reason. I'm catching a cold, there's still 2 more work days this week, the Commoner won't be home for another week and I miss him, my pants are still too tight. But like I said, I'm feeling good. In fact, so good I started making a list of things I like. Turns out there's lots. I couldn't type as fast as I could think of them. So since I'm feeling good and can't think of a single complaint worth writing about I think I'll share my list of things that I like. Maybe it will inspire you to make your own list. I double dog dare you. My list took less than 1 minute to think of (remember, it took longer to type). Please feel free to list your favourites in my comment section. Cause yep, feeling good and I care. Tomorrow? Who knows.
The Things I Like:
warm weather
good parking spots
letters in the mail
when the phone doesn't ring for hours
manicures
salt and vinegar chips
old movies
bette davis
oranges
friends
sunshine
hottubs
cran-tinis
kittens
old men
couples holding hands
the sound of music
good hair days
tea
family
laughing out loud
dancing
stretching
kisses on the back of my neck
days with nowhere to go
good books
chicken sandwiches
cold pop
sleeping with the window open
wearing sleep pants all day long
blonde jokes
people who smile like they mean it
hugs from little kids
comments on my blog
oprah
clean sheets
The Things I Like:
warm weather
good parking spots
letters in the mail
when the phone doesn't ring for hours
manicures
salt and vinegar chips
old movies
bette davis
oranges
friends
sunshine
hottubs
cran-tinis
kittens
old men
couples holding hands
the sound of music
good hair days
tea
family
laughing out loud
dancing
stretching
kisses on the back of my neck
days with nowhere to go
good books
chicken sandwiches
cold pop
sleeping with the window open
wearing sleep pants all day long
blonde jokes
people who smile like they mean it
hugs from little kids
comments on my blog
oprah
clean sheets
Monday, January 09, 2006
A thing of beauty is a joy forever
I almost envy the common folk. I realize I am living the life of them but deep inside I know I don't truly belong. So while it's fine for other women to age gracefully (read, let themselves go), I am constantly aware that when I regain my throne I must look the part of the princess. So I will recap my daily beauty regiment so you know what lengths I endure each day.
I wake up at 4:00 a.m. to do a Pilates workout. Unfortunately most days it takes 38 minutes for me to unhook the X-Box and figure out how to switch it from the satellite dish to the dvd player. Oh sure, some of you mock me and wonder why I can't remember from day to day. Well sister, it might be because I am dealing with 6 remote control, 2 satellite receivers, an x-box, a playstation, the dvd player and a surround sound system. I'm usually thrilled to get a picture that matches the sound. Anyway, this intricate procedure leaves me only 7 minutes for the workout. 5 minutes warm up then right into the cool down.
Then a quick shower where I exfoliate, cleanse and follow up with a good moisturizer. It saddens me to hear my skin making a sucking sound similar to a man at the bottom of his milkshake.
Then we shampoo, condition, mousse, gel, putty and spray the hair that has already been chemically treated with colour.
A brisk 28 minutes of make-up and the daily miracle is well on the way.
A quick trim of the moustache and a little tweezing on the chin and I'm almost set. I often wonder why I didn't just join the circus.
Now a quick manicure, pedicure, a little eyebrown waxing, a little more bikini waxing, and I'm starting to get it together.
Now for the foundation undergarments. Here's where it gets a little tricky. If the panties are asked to hold in too much the fat gets pushed up and sits under the bra. If only I could push it up a little further I might not need the padded bra.
But after 53 consecutive episodes of "What Not to Wear" I can throw together an outfit in less than 29 minutes.
A quick turn in the mirror and I'm set for the day. And for what. The man of my dreams (yes, the Commoner) is working in a far off land so who is going to notice my efforts. Surely not management. All they care is that the coffee is made along with excuses to cover their asses.
Do I sound bitter. Surely not. It's just the price one must pay to keep up appearances. And there are those of you who say "ah, but yes, with age comes wisdom." True enough, I am no doubt wiser than the 25 year olds with their firm thighs and single chins. But to tell you the truth I would trade all my knowledge for a tight butt in a heartbeat.
Luckily, I have discovered a new fitness guru. You can check out the newest diet craze that will soon be sweeping the nation. You can visit his blog at bahamamama1.blogspot.com.
I'm confident that once his new diet catches on that I will be as beautiful as I need to be. Once all of us realize that my grandmother was right and that "skinny's no good" our society will be better off. All hail the fitness guru. He is my only hope.
I wake up at 4:00 a.m. to do a Pilates workout. Unfortunately most days it takes 38 minutes for me to unhook the X-Box and figure out how to switch it from the satellite dish to the dvd player. Oh sure, some of you mock me and wonder why I can't remember from day to day. Well sister, it might be because I am dealing with 6 remote control, 2 satellite receivers, an x-box, a playstation, the dvd player and a surround sound system. I'm usually thrilled to get a picture that matches the sound. Anyway, this intricate procedure leaves me only 7 minutes for the workout. 5 minutes warm up then right into the cool down.
Then a quick shower where I exfoliate, cleanse and follow up with a good moisturizer. It saddens me to hear my skin making a sucking sound similar to a man at the bottom of his milkshake.
Then we shampoo, condition, mousse, gel, putty and spray the hair that has already been chemically treated with colour.
A brisk 28 minutes of make-up and the daily miracle is well on the way.
A quick trim of the moustache and a little tweezing on the chin and I'm almost set. I often wonder why I didn't just join the circus.
Now a quick manicure, pedicure, a little eyebrown waxing, a little more bikini waxing, and I'm starting to get it together.
Now for the foundation undergarments. Here's where it gets a little tricky. If the panties are asked to hold in too much the fat gets pushed up and sits under the bra. If only I could push it up a little further I might not need the padded bra.
But after 53 consecutive episodes of "What Not to Wear" I can throw together an outfit in less than 29 minutes.
A quick turn in the mirror and I'm set for the day. And for what. The man of my dreams (yes, the Commoner) is working in a far off land so who is going to notice my efforts. Surely not management. All they care is that the coffee is made along with excuses to cover their asses.
Do I sound bitter. Surely not. It's just the price one must pay to keep up appearances. And there are those of you who say "ah, but yes, with age comes wisdom." True enough, I am no doubt wiser than the 25 year olds with their firm thighs and single chins. But to tell you the truth I would trade all my knowledge for a tight butt in a heartbeat.
Luckily, I have discovered a new fitness guru. You can check out the newest diet craze that will soon be sweeping the nation. You can visit his blog at bahamamama1.blogspot.com.
I'm confident that once his new diet catches on that I will be as beautiful as I need to be. Once all of us realize that my grandmother was right and that "skinny's no good" our society will be better off. All hail the fitness guru. He is my only hope.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
The Rocky Road
I am trying a new career in homecare. I decided it would do me good so I've agreed to care for the old and infirm. I was assigned Abby as my first patient.
But before I decide if this is my destiny I haven't handed in my resignation. I'm forced to try my new job in between my old one.
So at lunch I dash to Abby's house. I enter with a cheery disposition, I fluff the pillow and take care of simple errands. Abby sits on the coach with a puppy-dog look in her eye and it occurs to me she's expecting something more. Oh, food.
It turns out the morning nurse failed to show. Poor Abby has not been fed or watered for hours.
I was not raised to cook and clean. And can you explain to me why dry toast is not adequate for both lunch and supper? But I'm quite perceptive. I can tell it doesn't suit. The faces that one can make, sheesh!
So I head to the local deli and arrive back at Abby's with scrumptious treats. My efforts are greeted with "DON'T MAKE ME EAT THAT". So I poach eggs and burn some toast. Abby manages to choke one egg down and then turns away from me and won't make eye contact thinking I won't notice the stuff she didn't eat.
It's enough to consider taking on a different shift.
The morning nurse is in charge of opening the house for the day. She also prepares the coffee and breakfast. Breakfast is the only meal I can competently handle. You simply can't screw up rice krispies. Unless you serve then with chocolate milk. But then again, individual taste prevails. Unfortunately, I cannot have the morning shift because apparently getting up at 5:30 doesn't appeal to Abby.
The night nurse has to do the laundry and more of the cleaning. But the night nurse does not get told "DON'T MAKE ME DRINK FROM THAT CUP!"
The most prestigous job belongs to the dressing-change nurse. She is treated with the most respect despite the physical torture she puts Abby through. Go figure.
So I am stuck with lunch duty. And yes, we had toast again. And if the smoke detectors goes off again, too bad. In the words of the famous Wonfur "SUCK IT UP, PRINCESS!"
Fortunately for me I have the weekend off. Wonfur and Gabio are making the trek down from the mountains. I don't think they know what they're in for. I believe they are picking up Dr. Derek to assist. He is well trained in dealing with this type of patient.
So while I soak in the hot tub and enjoy the culinary skills of my in-home chef, Abby and her offspring will have to cope. I hope Gabio vacuums and Wonfur shops. Dr. Derek can assist Nurse Julia with the dressing-changes and I think I'll have a manicure.
But before I decide if this is my destiny I haven't handed in my resignation. I'm forced to try my new job in between my old one.
So at lunch I dash to Abby's house. I enter with a cheery disposition, I fluff the pillow and take care of simple errands. Abby sits on the coach with a puppy-dog look in her eye and it occurs to me she's expecting something more. Oh, food.
It turns out the morning nurse failed to show. Poor Abby has not been fed or watered for hours.
I was not raised to cook and clean. And can you explain to me why dry toast is not adequate for both lunch and supper? But I'm quite perceptive. I can tell it doesn't suit. The faces that one can make, sheesh!
So I head to the local deli and arrive back at Abby's with scrumptious treats. My efforts are greeted with "DON'T MAKE ME EAT THAT". So I poach eggs and burn some toast. Abby manages to choke one egg down and then turns away from me and won't make eye contact thinking I won't notice the stuff she didn't eat.
It's enough to consider taking on a different shift.
The morning nurse is in charge of opening the house for the day. She also prepares the coffee and breakfast. Breakfast is the only meal I can competently handle. You simply can't screw up rice krispies. Unless you serve then with chocolate milk. But then again, individual taste prevails. Unfortunately, I cannot have the morning shift because apparently getting up at 5:30 doesn't appeal to Abby.
The night nurse has to do the laundry and more of the cleaning. But the night nurse does not get told "DON'T MAKE ME DRINK FROM THAT CUP!"
The most prestigous job belongs to the dressing-change nurse. She is treated with the most respect despite the physical torture she puts Abby through. Go figure.
So I am stuck with lunch duty. And yes, we had toast again. And if the smoke detectors goes off again, too bad. In the words of the famous Wonfur "SUCK IT UP, PRINCESS!"
Fortunately for me I have the weekend off. Wonfur and Gabio are making the trek down from the mountains. I don't think they know what they're in for. I believe they are picking up Dr. Derek to assist. He is well trained in dealing with this type of patient.
So while I soak in the hot tub and enjoy the culinary skills of my in-home chef, Abby and her offspring will have to cope. I hope Gabio vacuums and Wonfur shops. Dr. Derek can assist Nurse Julia with the dressing-changes and I think I'll have a manicure.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Foiled Again
My first burst of energy.
After the hectic holiday season which provided me with ample anecdotes I was exhausted. So tonight after much prompting from my fans I decided to write.
I prepared my cup of tea, put on my green "life is good" sleep pants, and started to write.Oh, and amusing it was. Chances are it was the best I'd ever written. I caused myself to chuckle out loud a time or two.
Oh indeedy, good stuff. My chest was swelling with pride. And it wasn't just my padded bra.
and then it happened.
A power surge. And my computer shut off.
And why would I take the time to save as I typed. I was almost done.
So now I have to disappoint my extensive fan base. Yes, both of you will be sad to hear that I have now become quite frustrated and couldn't bring myself to try to duplicate it.
I will therefore, take to my bed, and awake refreshed. Then unfortunately, I'll drag my sorry ass to work and will come home once again exhausted. But hopefully, I will live to write again.
After the hectic holiday season which provided me with ample anecdotes I was exhausted. So tonight after much prompting from my fans I decided to write.
I prepared my cup of tea, put on my green "life is good" sleep pants, and started to write.Oh, and amusing it was. Chances are it was the best I'd ever written. I caused myself to chuckle out loud a time or two.
Oh indeedy, good stuff. My chest was swelling with pride. And it wasn't just my padded bra.
and then it happened.
A power surge. And my computer shut off.
And why would I take the time to save as I typed. I was almost done.
So now I have to disappoint my extensive fan base. Yes, both of you will be sad to hear that I have now become quite frustrated and couldn't bring myself to try to duplicate it.
I will therefore, take to my bed, and awake refreshed. Then unfortunately, I'll drag my sorry ass to work and will come home once again exhausted. But hopefully, I will live to write again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)