So Much For That

Well, that didn’t last long, did it? It drove me crazy. I missed you guys. Cause no matter what’s going on in my life, I always make time to blog. It was actually more of an Internet problem than anything, cause my sister doesn’t graduate till next Saturday. And I’ll be sure to put up pictures! But in the meantime, a collection of thoughts and activities from my furlough:

Yesterday I got Harvey new tires. He was overdue for them I admit, when I got a flat in one I went whole hog and got a whole set. They have a nice white part around the rim, and he has new oil while they were at it. He looks so handsome and when it’s light I’ll take some pictures.

When I got called in that I could work today, I went to my manager Harmony, “Yes! Thank you!” So I was a little bored. We have a floorset for the new American Girl products tomorrow. I’m excited about it. A little known fact is that with the help of my grandparents, I have quite a nice collection, built since the age of five. It’s nice stuff and from what I’ve seen, what BBW will be selling is too.

Wow, this is a stretch, trying to think of exciting things about the past few days of my life. I got rid of a bunch of old books in exchange for some nice used Stephen Kings, including It. I've seen the movie but never read the book. Killer clowns, anyone?

I suppose that's enough of an update for the time being; I will hopefully be visiting each of y'all to catch up on what happened in your much more exciting lives. As long as the Internet holds out....

Storms Suck

It must have been really bad if they shut down Wal-Mart. Apparently the Wal-Mart was struck by lightning and the cash registers were down and they made everyone leave. It's one thing when poor Harvey couldn't get any gas, again. Hey, it's not MY fault the gas station got struck and you couldn't pump. And when the banks' computers were offline (cable TV worked, though), and I couldn't get my balance. I guess that's what I get for not balancing my checkbook better.

But I never thought they could take down Wal-Mart. After all, it's the world-wide behemoth. I thought nothing could kill Wal-Mart. I drove out of the parking lot, waited in an eternal line since no one would let me in, and went off with my faith in Wal-Mart shattered. I could've been like a fox and said sour grapes, I didn't want to do my errands anyway. But I soldiered on, a little sadder, and a little wiser. Cause after all, nothing is infallible, right?

And as a side note, I've got some stuff going on- my middle sister graduating, seeing Austin, etc.- that may keep me from being as active as usual. But I tried to go without blogging and it drove me nuts after barely twenty-four hours. So look for my snark and if I'm not around, well, I'm sure you'll find ways to amuse yourselves anyway.

One Day, I Will Eat My Hand

I couldn't get it very big cause I'm a cheapskate and just saved it from sears.com's e-mail preview. But this is one in a set of my three-month-old nephew Austin's very first professional pictures! As always, there are more at my photoblog, and on Flickr. Commences squealing: Ooooh, he's so cute, he's so cute! OK, I'm done. For now.

Blog About Blogging

It still amazes me sometimes how y'all seem to enjoy what I write. I mean, I find my life funny, and I try to spin it as such, but just that random strangers that I found usually through the "next blog" button, or else through other bloggers, come here day after day and listen to me. Most people in real life tell me to shut up. I think I annoy them when I blather on and on about things. But hey, I amaze them too. It amazes people that I never stop talking.

But what to write about today? I could write about how I actually woke up at 4 A.M. yesterday to do inventory at work, I'd fallen asleep a little after eleven after cheating and watching Whose Line in bed for an hour. About how I was told I was "way too perky for it to still be this early." Or how I was rather mean and talking about the nice inventory people who came in with their little machines that went "beep, beep, errrrrrr" incessantly. Or my manger Kathleen who is the best, I love her to death, but who tends to get just a little bit stressed out about these kinds of things. She wants everything to be perfect. And it's not like I don't want it to be right, too, but my head isn't the one on the line. She also tends to be a wee bit protective- "What are you eating, Nettie? Is that going to kill you?" But having now been at work literally all around the clock, I can still say that I love it. Hope you're used to it.

Or I could blog about blogging. How yesterday when I got home I not only changed the headings to my profile and comments, tweaked my profile, and looked up new sayings to run across the bottom, which I do with some regularity anyway, but went a little further. My blogroll is getting out of control, I admit, but now it's divided into three even, alphabetical portions. So now whenever I add someone new to it, I'll probably try to add three new ones so it doesn't get out of proportion. That annoys me.

Continuing the theme, I only added one new thing, my ecosystem rating, and just moved around the rest. The new Flickr badge it took me forever to work right is below my profile, so you can keep gazing at my adorable little nephew who was three months yesterday. I moved up the guest map too, and over the hours I was doing this, I finally managed to figure out how to get the site meter on the bottom. I think the only attraction that didn't move was Neal. He's comfortable right over the link that gives Darlene design credit. Heh heh. I love this blogging thing too...

I'm the Weirdest

I'm sorry, but there's just no competition. I mean, who else...

Starts a cult based entirely on cereal?

Sort of looks forward to going in at a bloody hour to do inventory- "I can be annoyingly cheerful at 5 A.M., too!"

Sets the alarm clock to go off with Halloween sound effects, making the computer actually scream at the bloody hour?

Arbitrarily declares holidays for her minions to celebrate?

Never buys 2 liters of Coke unless they are on sale for 99 cents but shells out $1.05 for 20 cold ounces of Peach Fanta?

Has the hidden talent of white girl rapping, among other useless hobbies?

Doesn't think she has a Southern accent until other people point it out- "Y'all have a good afternoon! Evening. Whatever it is."

Reads all 627 pages of the new Harry Potter twice in three days?

Insists on taking hundreds of barely-distinguisable poses of her baby nephew- even when he was asleep?

Hasn't had her toenails painted the same color on each foot in three years?

Takes being called insane as a compliment, becauase she never wants to grow up?

Apparently enjoys speaking in the third person?

It's OK. I accept you even if you aren't quite as weird as me. And perhaps if you hang around long enough, you will begin to approach the same weird caliber. Or at least get a little farther away from that horrible thing called normal...

Tidbits

"So all I have to do is come here twice a week for the rest of my life and I'll be set?" "Yep, that'll do it. But come on, don't you like us here?" "Course I do, why do you think I insisted on coming back to you?" If I'm going to be working my butt off in physical therapy, I want to do it with someone I trust. I worked with Karen over a year the last go-round, not counting the time she was on maternity leave, so it didn't take long to fall back into a comfortable pattern. "Yeah, we might need to work on your posture there." "You've already taught me how to walk right again, don't expect too much!"

It just helps when it's a good environment- "OK, this is officially the most random radio station"- with cool people. There's this one exercise where I'm basically sitting up and down, only I have to hold on to something, so on Wednesday Karen stood on a stool- "Don't send me flying across the room!" for me to balance. Only today she made the PT aide do it. "OK, what do I have to do?" "She just has to stand there while I hold on, right?" "Oh. OK." "I'm just taking a breather, don't move yet. OK, now I'm done." "I have such an important job!" "Yes, Albena. Your job is very important."

Then it was on to my job and more inventory. "And if we make our day you get a prize!" Jen is not above bribery. "Who's getting out their credit cards?" I always rationalize that it was stuff I would have bought anyway. Of course I would have. For some reason, Rafeal decided to play "Let's Guess Nettie's Middle Name". I love that game, it makes me feel powerful. "Hey Jen, what's Nettie's middle name?" "I don't know!" "See, cheaters never win!" The only reason anyone would even know my real first name is cause it's on my paychecks. Heh heh. I do love to win.

So that was my day, fascinating, I know. But how bout a lesson to go with it? I'm just glad that the situations in my life that could be miserable- going through the knee exercises, working- don't have to be because of the awesome people that I get to interact with. Now if I could just quit playing Superman, I'd be good...

Like You, Herr Zeller, I, Too, Am A Man of Hidden Talents

Your Hidden Talent

You have the natural talent of rocking the boat, thwarting the system. And while this may not seem big, it can be. It's people like you who serve as the catalysts to major cultural changes. You're just a bit behind the scenes, so no one really notices.

What's Your Hidden Talent?

OK, so I'm being lazy and posting pretty pictures instead of writing stuff. Give me a break, I'm tired. This is actually pretty accurate, I think, but who wants to guess what my real hidden talent is?

Meet Blogapathy

I borrowed her, isn't she cute? Now gimme some bamboo and have a happy day.

Facing Your Fears

All right, so it's kind of stupid. And it doesn't make much sense (big surprise there). But for me, it's bees. Well, anything that stings; I don't really make the distinction. I remember in high school I was in my Spanish class, out in a trailer, and there was some thing flying around. I think I watched it the whole period; didn't learn a thing that day. What can I say, bees freak me out for some reason, even though I've never been stung. Heaven forbid I do get stung one day.

But I guess in life you have to face the things that freak you out. Today for example, Harvey insisted there was no way he could make it home from physical therapy without gas, and that I just had to skip the interstate and get him some. The first station with relatively cheap gas had a line, so I'm sending frantic subliminal mesages: "Hang on Harvey, I'm working on it buddy!" So I made it to another, pulled in, turned off the engine- and then it happened. A monstrous yellow and black striped creature lit on the little console that you shove your card in. I was trapped. Trapped by a thirsty car on a hot day and a big stinging something.

Well, what choice did I have? I took a deep breath and shoved my card into the reader. Big ol' whatever didn't move. I took the nozzle off and pushed the button for "cheapo". Big 'un stayed put. I put $5.51 in and hung up the nozzle, got my receipt to file on Harvey's floor with the others- creature still didn't move. Good thing, too. It must be true that animals can sense who was boss, cause I definitely would have kicked some big, striped butt!

Let's Make It Christmas

Why? Because it's my blog and I said so. Just follow my simple guidelines and you'll be feeling that Yuletide spirit in no time....

First off- the music. I find that the Chipmunks work best for this purpose, but you can pick what suits your fancy- Mariah, a classic, or maybe even some Weird Al like I've got on now. The important thing is to play it really loud and when your roommates/family/neighbors/cops ask you to turn it down, say, "It's Christmas, silly!" and blast it even more.

Next, go to your local mall and get all your Christmas shopping done now- with all the sales undoubtedly going on, you can't beat the timing. Just be nice to all the lovely associates- we work hard in retail, you know.

Better yet, get some random presents for yourself. And when your loved ones ask six months from now, "Where's mine?" "Sorry, I spent it all on myself at Christmas in July."

No, you didn't waste time taping all those Christmas specials two years ago. Pull 'em out now and relive every tender moment as cows talk, wishes come true, and evil gets thwarted yet again.

So there's no one hawking gorgeous evergreens on the corner. That blasted pine tree in your front yard will do just as well. And don't forget the indoors- you know you've been dying to get out your 1,000-strong collection of little elves, each hand-carved and painted so they're all different. Come here, you cute little heirlooms, you!

And that delicious Winter Candy Apple that you bought for 75 percent off last month and squirreled away under the sink? Pull it on out- that way you can even smell jolly!

Unless you live in a vast frozen wasteland, it's pretty hot right now. So what if it's not snowing? Or you've never had a White Christmas in your life? Make your own! You know that half-gallon of cheapo vanilla ice cream buried in the back of the freezer that no one wants to eat? I think you know what to do with it...

But you do have to eat. How about a nice turkey. No, I mean the bird, not your annoying friend. Although both are fun to roast. And for dessert, plum pudding- once you figure out what plum pudding is, of course.

Don't forget to go around leaving snarky comments on all your friends' websites! "But that has nothing to do with Christmas!", you say. Ah, but it makes you happy, and isn't that the spirit of Christmas?

It wouldn't be Christmas without annoying relatives. Make yourself one- show up at random "almost-strangers-cause-you-only-see-them-once-a-year" people's houses and announce you have arrived for the holidays. And when they try to throw you out, feebly protest, "But I have fruitcake!" Note: I am not responsible for said relatives calling you a fruitcake.

Are you ready? Ready for Christmas boot camp? What was that, soldier? Did I hear you say, "But it's only July?" I didn't think so! Now let's see, have I left anything out? "Ye...." This is not a question- and answer period! I'm telling you- get merry! Have a cup of cheer! Because hey, it's so not Christmas!

The Art of Child Negotiation

"I landed on your space again." "Hey, that's my space!" "Too bad, it's not your turn anymore. No wonder you don't have any money." "Larissa's losing, she doesn't pay attention." "I just landed on your space too." "Oh. Whoops." Obviously I am not of the school that says you should allow kids to win at Monopoly. "200 dollars." "I don't have that much money." "You're out!" Although I admit it wasn't the same after Corey beat her. Much harder to distract him when I landed on his spaces.

"You've got five minutes to drink your milk. Three. Make sure you brush your teeth so they won't be rotten!" "Will you read me a story?" "Yes, as soon as I finish cleaning up the Monopoly. You could help me." "No, I don't want to." "OK, that's your story." "No, I want to keep looking..." "You're dawdling..." "Huh?" "Stalling!"

After the fascinating adventures of Wendell and Lloyd and their secret shortcut, the even more fascinating adventures of Jake Long, American Dragon. "Now what did my mysterious old master tell me about brownies- they like shiny things!" Ooooh, I like shiny things, too, maybe I'm a brownie....shiny...Jake Long, who apparently is the epitome of American kids, saying things like, "Yo, that's how it's be!" and other such annoyances. Who is being taught by a mysterious old master and a talking dog. Who has to pass three dragony tests by three dragony judges or he loses said master. Who has a rival who makes fun of him and plays tricks, attempting to thwart his quest. Who was up against the Dark Dragon who has mysteriously and most unfortunately returned to power. Can we please stop ripping off Harry Potter here?

"Good night, Nettie." "Good night." "Thank you for baby-sitting." Awwwwww.......

It's All Mine

And oh man, was it good. But no spoilers, you'll have to read it for yourself. Six hundred fifty two pages that I must now reread for all the details I missed the first time around...

Harry, Harry, Harry!

OK, so this really would be more properly done tomorrow, but I'm too excited. I have this mad urge to run around the house going, "Harry, Harry, Harry, HARRY!". Just like the other day I went around going, "Michelle, Michelle, Michelle..." And no, Harry is not a new boyfriend. Unless you've been stuck under a rock, you know that it's Harry Potter. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, to be exact.

I wasn't the first to get into the books- it was sometime around when Sorcerer's Stone (aka Philosopher's Stone in Britain) went into paperback- but I can say I am among the ranks of the dedicated. In preparation for this momentous event, I began rereading the series on Monday, starting with Order of the Phoenix and am currently on Chamber of Secrets. And since I both have no life and am an extraordinarily fast reader, I should be done with the series- again- by tomorrow. (To illustrate, I got home with OotP about one last time and was done with it by five. The U.S. version has 870 pages).

But of course, my Harry Potterification wouldn't be complete wtihout the cinematic experience as well. "Where are you, Nettie?"" At the party for the midnight showing of Prisoner of Azkaban, of course!" "Oh. Um, OK." I just started with SS and should be able to finish all three in between Whose Line and SVU viewings. Obviously I'm a bit obsessed.

But why am I obsessed? Why for Christmas do I not only get Harry Potter calendars and games and puzzles, but a new hardback copy of SS since I wore the paperback one to bits? Why is it that at 6 o'clock tomorrow I will be in line in my Harry Potter T-shirt and socks to get a wristband which will hopefully allow me to get a book at midnight? What is it about these books that inflames my passions so that I was ready to do battle with the many at my Christian high school who thought they were evil? Maybe it's because sometimes I long for magical powers (don't we all?). Maybe cause at the time I started reading them I needed a little magic in my life, too. Perhaps because I was never one to read the classics, stuff that other people thought I should be reading. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. Soon I and others will know just who the Half-Blood Prince is. And then we will begin waiting rather impatiently for the seventh, and probably final book, in the wonderful world of Harry Potter.

I Didn't Forget The Surprise

And it's a biggie. If my roommates heard me, they must have thought me even stranger, since I was yelling, "Oooh, that's good!" at regular intervals while I was reading it. Of course, they'd already heard me laughing raucously for an hour at Whose Line. But I digress.

A while back, I promised a big surprise. Well, I thought it was supposed to be a surprise. Two of my co-anchors couldn't seem to keep their mouths shut about it. But I know it's definitely been worth the wait.

Back in March or so, there was a meme going around that many bloggers in my little circle participated in- basically a five question interview game, anything and everything. And Jeff had the idea to expand it into a group blog. He called for co-anchors, and I accepted, along with Stacy of "Not A Desperate Housewife" and another Stacey, who is currently on summer vacation. It was Jeff's dream, and Jeff's vision, not to have only ourselves and some fabulous others as interviewees, but to land a big name. The name? Michelle Malkin.

If you are not familiar with Michelle Malkin: One of the top ten bloggers; smart, female, and conservative (shocking, isn't it?); author; journalist; and sometime guest host on Fox News. And she granted little old Meet the Bloggers an interview. Props go of course to Stacy, and our wonderful guest anchor Darlene. But it was Jeff's boldness, and persistence, and plain old determination that helped make it happen. And many thanks to Ms. Malkin for her graciousness and thoughtful answers to our questions. And now, go to the interview. Go right HERE. Go, and bask in the, I have to say it, glory.

Really Bad Pickup Lines

Mmm, my hair smells good today...What, you don't think it smells good?

Speaking of smelly stuff, I work at Bath and Body Works. You should come in some time. That is, if you're man enough.

Why hello there, Officer. How can I help you? Oh, wait, you're here about Jeff, aren't you?

Wanna come back to my place? I've got the Golden Girls on DVD.

Anyone ever told you you look just like David Hasselhoff?

You know, I'm a really good cook when I'm stressed. And baby, I'm stressed.

I should tell you, there are other men in my life. I hope that doesn't intimidate you.

Look at what I can make my knee do!

Hi, my name is Nettie, and I'm not afraid of clowns!

I can sing the theme song to pretty much every '90's cartoon. And recite scenes from The Lion King by heart, too!

I'm doing the 7-day Dove deodorant test. I don't think it's working, though.

Are you a conservative? No? That's OK, I like liberals too. Except for the one who ripped the Dubya bumper sticker off of my poor Harvey. But liberals are okay, really they are...

Don't Touch My Wallflowers

It starts, slowly, but it builds. The massive wallflower-hungry hordes have been unleashed on a poor, teeth-gritting team of Bath and Body Works associates. "Six dollars for wallflowers? Starters and refills? Ooh, that's a good deal!" "Yes ma'am, it is." Forces smile. "Now, tell me, do you have any Sweet Pea refills?" "There might be some in the buckets..." Digs through massive red buckets. "I don't see any..." "Are you sure?" "Well, I don't think there's any in the back, but I can go check." "Oh, would you? That's so nice of you." I know darn good and well there's none in the back. But it makes them happy and I was thirsty anyway. So it went for a month: The Big Semi-Annual Sale.

It was chaos. But I loved it. All of us love it. At least the ones who know what we are doing, i.e. core associates, not new holiday ones. I don't know if it's usual to have a workforce who really seems happy with their jobs. Maybe it's just that we're all insane. So I fit right in. Which isn't to say that we core associates don't have our pet peeves....

"Kathleen! Do we have any..." "Kathleen! How do you do..." "Kathleen! Can you come to the wrap desk for a minute?" "Kathleen! Kathleen! Kathleen!" "I'm going to go in back for a minute, guys." (Translation: Leave me alone for two seconds.) And as she takes off the walkie, If they call my name one more time...

"These people don't know what they're doing." "I know. I'm having a nervous breakdown, Nettie's having a nervous breakdown, Whitney's having a nervous breakdown, and if they bring me any more stuff to box up..." "But Lauren, if we have nervous breakdowns, at least we won't have to worry about where we're going to live." "Hey, yeah! We can just go hang out at Three Rivers!"

During sale time, everything just kind of goes to pot. During last night's floorset to end the sale, I finally got the chance to fix the wallflowers -"Are you finished yet, Nettie?" Starters and refills, by fragrance and frequence- "Breathe, Nettie!" Even redid them this morning when we got more in. And if anyone messes with my wallflowers, I willl personally strangle you.

Man, Do I Love This Baby

"Austin, you're making Auntie Nettie's knee hurt. Can we please sit down?" Wait a beat. "OK, apparently not." Up and down and up and down and up and down. But I guess he's like me- neither one of us can sit still. He likes to be walked. So it's "Shh, Jammy, Jamie, Jammy, Jammy, Jam, please don't cry." Back and forth and back and forth and- "Belle, get OUT of my way. I don't care about me getting hurt, but if you make me drop this kid...." It's not a bad drive down to Melissa's in-laws' on Lake Thurmond, through little towns called Cameron and Wagener and Modoc, green fields with I think goats. But nothing compares to my wondrous little nephew.

What the Voices in My Head Tell Me

"Oooh, look, a Golden Girls DVD!" That's it. No more Wal-Mart for you. It doesn't make a difference if it's cheaper than the supermarkets if you come out of there with two bags of junk food and a Golden Girls DVD!

I think I also forgot how much hard work physical therapy is. That, and you haven't been to the gym in, oh, a year. Six months. Oh, please, it's been a year. But at least I didn't almost fall on my face today. All right, I'll give you that one.

Man, I love Christmas music- this must be the reason for the phrase "Christmas in July." On this night, on this night, on this Merry Christmas night...

Great. I managed to drop a folded table on myself. Nice bruises coming up there. So the left leg wasn't enough, had to do the left arm too. Youse gonna be one hurting cowpoke!

Hey. Where's my paycheck? When are you going to set up get direct deposit already? You're always losing them. Chill out, I left it at work. Yeah, yeah, yeah...

I'm going to see Austin tomorrow! Going to see Austin tomorrow!

Speechless

My heart breaks for you, Britain. This shouldn't happen to anybody, this terror, this grief, this pure heartbreak. The words fail me now. But this isn't about politics, not yet. This is about how we will stand by you, Britain. We will stand by you as you stood by us nearly four years agao. Or thoughts and our prayers are with you, with you always.

And yet, it is about politics. The attacks were surely timed to be during the G-8 summit being held in Scotland. And it is about politics in that they are meant to intimidate and invoke sorrow. But don't give in to it. Don't give in to the hate. Stand strong, London. Stand strong in your faith and your country. Know that the world is with you now. This isn't about America, not really. This is about, right now, standing behind our fellow freedom lovers.

I know this isn't eloquent. But it's from my heart. We've been there too, and I know we will do whatever we can. I know I will. They can kill our bodies, but they can't kill our spirits. They can't shake our beliefs that what is right will prevail. Grieve, as you must, but know that when the ashes settle, people of character will still stand strong in the face of fanaticism. And, Barbara, know especially that our thoughts and prayers are with you, too, in this time of shock and sorrow. Know that our comfort, and that of people all over the world, for what it's worth, is with you. And, especially, our love.

This Is Your Life

I've thought for a while about how I wanted to say this. I'm trying to be serious, for once. But I'm not a complainer, either. I'm not the type to go, "Oh, woe, woe is me, blah blah blah." At least not usually. And look at that, I'm making a joke again. I suppose I should just tell the story...

I think I've mentioned my knee problems in passing, not really in detail though. I was sixteen, and I never had an injury. I started physical therapy in January 2002 to try to avoid surgery. The lateral release was done on my left knee in March of my junior year. I recovered enough to stand at my sister's wedding in May, feel my knee buckle, and go, "Hey. That's the wrong knee!" Did the right one in July (cause I was stubborn and insisted on going on a mission trip to fix houses first).

Why am I bringing all this up? Well, with both knees, it was a long haul- fifteen months of physical therapy, constantly slipping and putting myself farther back, etc. Not to mention having the great timing to be in a wreck just before my senior trip. D.C. on crutches is, well, an experience. But I got through it. And maybe I wasn't the most agile, but then I never was. I took my knees for granted again. Until it came back. I hoped it wasn't happening again, but I knew. I knew when just going to work became painful, when I couldn't stand on my left leg anymore, knew that it was coming back to haunt me.

I do have a really awesome physical therapist, Karen, that I worked with in high school. She seemed optimistic that I might be able to avoid the next surgery up. Of course, that was before my leg gave out and I did a very dramatic almost-face plant on my fourth exercise today. And BBW has been great too (although Subway is now out of the picture). When I told my head manager Kathleen that it would probably be surgery, she was just like "OK, keep me informed, and we can probably make adjustments." And thankfully, neither she nor any of my colleagues who know treat me like an invalid.

But I don't think I thought this far ahead when I was sixteen. I suffered, and I worked, and I got over it. I jumped around and I played Spiderman on the backroom shelves and I lived my life. And now I feel like Frank Gilbreth, plotting every move I make so I don't mess it up more. I believe God has a plan for this. I know God has a plan for this. But I'm grown up now (well, technically). I am going to fight it. But I know, too, that this will always be with me. I'm only twenty years old. And this is my life.

This Is Not The Twilight Zone

Nothing strange happens here. I don't know where you heard those reports of me becoming a crotchety old lady- Hey you kids, get off my lawn!- but they are not true. Nor do I regress- I can't hear my Piglet movie over your stupid firecrackers! Everyone knows how to act their proper age. Right?

It's perfectly normal here. There are no strange men in hats lurking around, and no one wants to take over the world. No one gets scared- Leave now while you still can!- and we all just go our own merry little ways. Just regular bloggers here. Right?

No one goes over the line here. There's no blogging at work, and no talk of scary clowns- I can't watch IT anymore it freaks me out! No stalking, and no masquerading as fictional people. Not here. That's too odd to be here. Right?

Nothing weird happens here. Do-do-do-do do-do-do-do....Hey, what's that? This is just a nice, happy place where nobody disagrees. DO-DO-DO-DO DO-DO-DO-DO. This isn't the Twilight Zone. I am not in the Twilight Zone. I'm here, safe in my sane little blogdom. Isn't that right? Right? RIGHT???

Symbols of America

Sea of Green
Originally uploaded by Mistress Tootie Belle.

Today I am not a southerner, or a conservative, or even a maverick. Today I am an American.

229 years ago, there were English and native and French and German and mongrels. But today, they are Americans.

Today, I don't think about the problems and crises of my country. Today I am an American.

Today I choose to celeberate all that is good and wondrous about my country. Today I thank God for all the privileges and rights I have, just by being born and living here. Today I reflect on all the people I've met and the things I've created. Because I am an American.

Today is not about barbecues or fireworks or a day off. It's not about who hates us or who likes us or who doesn't care. It's about being grateful for the millions who fought to give us a chance, to those who gave up their lives to ensure ours. It's about patriotism. For I, I am an American.

Happy birthday, America. I love you.

Random Observances on a Holiday Weekend

"You're gonna hit me, you freak! And a cute little wave is not going to help you if you do."

"We're slow. Slower than yesterday." "Kathleen looks like she's about to pounce on any customer who gives her something to do." "Yeah, she's bored."

I have a new dream place, if I ever go to New York. Just watching about Economy Candy made me drool. They have everything, and if I'm ever there, I'll be as excited as a kid in a candy store. Heh heh.

"Jump on the register, Nettie. Jump back on the register, Nettie." Customers going boom, boom, boom, and now I can't get off the register. Thanks a lot.

"Get out of the fast lane, Grandma!"

I think I have road rage.

I have never seen so many people in brown and green, at least in person. It was so inspiring to see those who give their lives to be a part of a higher cause.

"Glowsticks, get your glowsticks!" "How much?" "Two dollars." Girl gets mommy who buys five. Ahhh, capitalism.

And we all know how much I love pretty colors. Naturally fireworks are an epitome. I'm one of those people who kept going, "Ooooh!" every five seconds. Boom, boom, boom...