Every time I pick a book that has to do with guns- and we have more than a few- I make sure that the book I give them is in as pristine condition as I can find. I don't want to upset a gun-toting reader!
Today someone ordered a Blue Book of gun values, and also a book on 10 Minute face lifts you can perform at home.
I now have a mental image of a man holding a gun on his wife, demanding that she look 10 years younger or else.
Or perhaps a woman wants to look younger to attract a certain man but, if the face lift doesn't work, she'll always have the gun for persuasion.
Either way you look at it, face lifts and guns don't mix.
Today someone ordered a Blue Book of gun values, and also a book on 10 Minute face lifts you can perform at home.
I now have a mental image of a man holding a gun on his wife, demanding that she look 10 years younger or else.
Or perhaps a woman wants to look younger to attract a certain man but, if the face lift doesn't work, she'll always have the gun for persuasion.
Either way you look at it, face lifts and guns don't mix.
Randy says thanks for the Hatch Day wishes!
I had an interesting day at work. I was called upstairs to the office, and I was a little apprehensive. I couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong, but you never know. My supervisor told me it was nothing bad, but I've never been called up there before, or heard that anyone else had been.
As it turns out, it was an informal job interview.
They need someone to enter orders into the computers, do confirmations, that sort of thing. Since no one person so far has the availability to cover the hours needed, they're asking a few of us if we'd be interested/willing to work a couple of days in the office to make up the job that would normally fall to one person; this saves from having to hire someone new. They're talking to a couple more people to see how they can best schedule things, but it seems that a couple of days a week I'll be doing data entry. This is actually a good thing, I think. My wrist has been bothering me a lot lately, and being able to put in my hours in a less physical way is probably a good idea. Besides, it shakes things up a little from the usual routine.
But ask me again once I've done it a few times. I might hate it.
I'll let you know how things turn out.
I had an interesting day at work. I was called upstairs to the office, and I was a little apprehensive. I couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong, but you never know. My supervisor told me it was nothing bad, but I've never been called up there before, or heard that anyone else had been.
As it turns out, it was an informal job interview.
They need someone to enter orders into the computers, do confirmations, that sort of thing. Since no one person so far has the availability to cover the hours needed, they're asking a few of us if we'd be interested/willing to work a couple of days in the office to make up the job that would normally fall to one person; this saves from having to hire someone new. They're talking to a couple more people to see how they can best schedule things, but it seems that a couple of days a week I'll be doing data entry. This is actually a good thing, I think. My wrist has been bothering me a lot lately, and being able to put in my hours in a less physical way is probably a good idea. Besides, it shakes things up a little from the usual routine.
But ask me again once I've done it a few times. I might hate it.
I'll let you know how things turn out.
My husband likes to say that he wasn't born, he was hatched. It's his excuse for not celebrating his birthday.
Which is today.
Happy Hatch Day honey! You're one egg I'm glad your mother laid.
*G*
Which is today.
Happy Hatch Day honey! You're one egg I'm glad your mother laid.
*G*
The next day, after the Slumber Party party, I had to go to a party being thrown by my SIL's future in-laws. It was a combination engagement party, birthday party (for the father), college graduation for their 2nd son, and high school graduation for their third; Regina's marrying their oldest boy.
Busy day for them.
It was fun at first, especially after the party the night before, a party which was to be kept secret from Regina's family. It was one of those "I know something you don't know" times, enjoyable in a juvenile sort of way. But after awhile, I started to feel sick- a stomach/GI thing this time- and couldn't wait to get home. I was sick the rest of the weekend, and am still not quite up to snuff yet. I'm rapidly getting better, though, so no worries. I still went to work for a few hours.
Now I just want to curl up here on the couch, read (The Expected One) and veg until the season openers of The Closer and Saving Grace tonight. Finally something to look forward to on t.v. again!
Busy day for them.
It was fun at first, especially after the party the night before, a party which was to be kept secret from Regina's family. It was one of those "I know something you don't know" times, enjoyable in a juvenile sort of way. But after awhile, I started to feel sick- a stomach/GI thing this time- and couldn't wait to get home. I was sick the rest of the weekend, and am still not quite up to snuff yet. I'm rapidly getting better, though, so no worries. I still went to work for a few hours.
Now I just want to curl up here on the couch, read (The Expected One) and veg until the season openers of The Closer and Saving Grace tonight. Finally something to look forward to on t.v. again!
Warning- this entry discusses "romance enhancing" products. It isn't really graphic, but I thought some of you would like a little warning. Consider yourself warned.
I went to my SIL's Slumber Party tonight. Though I only knew Randy's sister, I was able to relax after getting to know a couple of her friends. It was fun except, of course, for the fact that I had to bite my tongue a lot, not wanting to give anything away about my love life with her brother.
A love life which appears to be better than those of the 20-somethings present at the party. The presenter made all sorts of comments about men's incompetence to hit the right spots or take time, lack of consideration, etc. Now, it was all jokingly said, but the young women (I was by far the oldest there) all nodded and laughed their agreement. I kept thinking that if a woman isn't happy with what her lover is doing- or not doing- why doesn't she just tell him what she likes, teach him how to make her happy, rather than simply lying there bored and mentally categorizing him as a bad lover? It wouldn't hurt to find out some of the things he likes as well. Just a thought. Anyway, as she listed the ways in which a man lets a woman down in bed, I was thinking "No. Nope, don't have that problem. Nope, he's got that covered..." etc. No worries, I'm not going to go into details. I'm just saying that even though those girls were laughing at me for being old, it appears that I have by far the best sex life.
I guess some things really do improve with age.
Anyway, some of the toys were scary looking (do I really want something that looks like a cactus coming at me?) and some were funny. One was flashing a variety of colored lights, circling, extending and contracting while another part of it, resembling antennae, wiggled back and forth. It was hysterical! I considered buying it for the laugh factor alone.
I didn't. Just for the record.
What I did buy was pretty boring for the most part, things like massage oil, body lotion. Nothing exciting really.
Except...
You know those blow-up dolls, those Inflatable Suzy dolls? Well, I bought an inflatable sheep. *
Yes, a sheep.
And I announced it loudly, with a big grin on my face.
"If my SIL is going to put me on the spot by dragging me to one of these things," I thought to myself, "I'm going to make this interesting."
It's something they sell as a gag gift, and I bought it in that spirit. I have an idea of who I want to give it to, a certain friend whose real name begins with "L" and who occasionally reads my blog. He knows who he is, and if he likes, I'll drop it off for him the next time I'm out in his neck of the woods. Not that he has a thing for sheep, mind you, just that this would tickle his sense of humor.
Unless, of course, one of you want it... ?
*G*
*You'll be brought to a page that requires confirmation that you're 18 by clicking on the "Yes I'm over 18" button. At that point, you can either refresh the link or look under "Novelties and Gag gifts" to find the sheep (or anything else for that matter) if the refresh doesn't work. Look around anyway. It could be fun.
Or not. :0)
I went to my SIL's Slumber Party tonight. Though I only knew Randy's sister, I was able to relax after getting to know a couple of her friends. It was fun except, of course, for the fact that I had to bite my tongue a lot, not wanting to give anything away about my love life with her brother.
A love life which appears to be better than those of the 20-somethings present at the party. The presenter made all sorts of comments about men's incompetence to hit the right spots or take time, lack of consideration, etc. Now, it was all jokingly said, but the young women (I was by far the oldest there) all nodded and laughed their agreement. I kept thinking that if a woman isn't happy with what her lover is doing- or not doing- why doesn't she just tell him what she likes, teach him how to make her happy, rather than simply lying there bored and mentally categorizing him as a bad lover? It wouldn't hurt to find out some of the things he likes as well. Just a thought. Anyway, as she listed the ways in which a man lets a woman down in bed, I was thinking "No. Nope, don't have that problem. Nope, he's got that covered..." etc. No worries, I'm not going to go into details. I'm just saying that even though those girls were laughing at me for being old, it appears that I have by far the best sex life.
I guess some things really do improve with age.
Anyway, some of the toys were scary looking (do I really want something that looks like a cactus coming at me?) and some were funny. One was flashing a variety of colored lights, circling, extending and contracting while another part of it, resembling antennae, wiggled back and forth. It was hysterical! I considered buying it for the laugh factor alone.
I didn't. Just for the record.
What I did buy was pretty boring for the most part, things like massage oil, body lotion. Nothing exciting really.
Except...
You know those blow-up dolls, those Inflatable Suzy dolls? Well, I bought an inflatable sheep. *
Yes, a sheep.
And I announced it loudly, with a big grin on my face.
"If my SIL is going to put me on the spot by dragging me to one of these things," I thought to myself, "I'm going to make this interesting."
It's something they sell as a gag gift, and I bought it in that spirit. I have an idea of who I want to give it to, a certain friend whose real name begins with "L" and who occasionally reads my blog. He knows who he is, and if he likes, I'll drop it off for him the next time I'm out in his neck of the woods. Not that he has a thing for sheep, mind you, just that this would tickle his sense of humor.
Unless, of course, one of you want it... ?
*G*
*You'll be brought to a page that requires confirmation that you're 18 by clicking on the "Yes I'm over 18" button. At that point, you can either refresh the link or look under "Novelties and Gag gifts" to find the sheep (or anything else for that matter) if the refresh doesn't work. Look around anyway. It could be fun.
Or not. :0)
This morning I dreamt that I had a baby daughter, but all on my own; I was a single mother. As a token of affection, I gave my Dad the honor of naming her. It was such a beautiful name, a Gaelic one I believe, and began with an "A." I thought it was perfect. The trouble was, I had never heard it before (in fact, I don't think it's a real name at all, or even a real word), and I soon forgot what it was. I was upset that I couldn't remember my baby's name, and asked Dad to repeat it. He did, only this time, it began with an "N." But I couldn't really make it out because he was mumbling. I prompted him to say it once more, and I could tell he was becoming irritated, so that I hated to ask anymore.
It sounded like he wanted me to name my child Norepinephrine, which is odd. I said ok, but then thought "There's no way I can name a child of mine that." I mean, Gwyneth Paltrow might name her child Apple, and David Carradine named his child I.P. Freely, but I just couldn't bring myself to saddle a child with the name "Norepinephrine." I think you have to be a celebrity to carry something like that off. Besides, you need the money that celebrity brings to pay for your child's therapy in later years.
Choosing a child's name is so difficult, don't you think?
(and I don't need the dream analyzed; I know precisely which factors contributed to create it, thanks. :0) )
It sounded like he wanted me to name my child Norepinephrine, which is odd. I said ok, but then thought "There's no way I can name a child of mine that." I mean, Gwyneth Paltrow might name her child Apple, and David Carradine named his child I.P. Freely, but I just couldn't bring myself to saddle a child with the name "Norepinephrine." I think you have to be a celebrity to carry something like that off. Besides, you need the money that celebrity brings to pay for your child's therapy in later years.
Choosing a child's name is so difficult, don't you think?
(and I don't need the dream analyzed; I know precisely which factors contributed to create it, thanks. :0) )
Another night without sleep. The bags under my eyes have bags, and there are now dark circles. I chose to stay home from work today. Tired as I am, I couldn't sleep if you paid me to.
As I vegged on the couch, an ambulance pulled up at the end of my driveway. Then the paramedics pulled up behind them. For a split second I thought "Is there something wrong with me?" and poked at myself to make sure. I appeared whole and it occurred to me that if I had somehow mysteriously had a coronary and managed to call for help before lapsing into unconsciousness or- gulp- dying, I surely would have some memory surrounding the event.
All of this skittered through my head much more quickly than it takes to tell. The paramedics often meet the ambulance en route to the hospital if they are needed; such was the case today. The ambulance had started for the hospital and called for the paramedics to meet them along the way. They just happened to rendezvous at the end of my driveway.
The thing of it is, they were there for a few minutes, and cars were driving by all the while. The bookstore is just down the road from my house, and people are always coming and going. I wonder how many people, seeing that I wasn't in work today and knowing that I wasn't feeling well yesterday, now think that I'm in the hospital?
I'm sure someone will ask me about it when I go in tomorrow. Should I tell the truth, or make up a really fun story? *G*
As I vegged on the couch, an ambulance pulled up at the end of my driveway. Then the paramedics pulled up behind them. For a split second I thought "Is there something wrong with me?" and poked at myself to make sure. I appeared whole and it occurred to me that if I had somehow mysteriously had a coronary and managed to call for help before lapsing into unconsciousness or- gulp- dying, I surely would have some memory surrounding the event.
All of this skittered through my head much more quickly than it takes to tell. The paramedics often meet the ambulance en route to the hospital if they are needed; such was the case today. The ambulance had started for the hospital and called for the paramedics to meet them along the way. They just happened to rendezvous at the end of my driveway.
The thing of it is, they were there for a few minutes, and cars were driving by all the while. The bookstore is just down the road from my house, and people are always coming and going. I wonder how many people, seeing that I wasn't in work today and knowing that I wasn't feeling well yesterday, now think that I'm in the hospital?
I'm sure someone will ask me about it when I go in tomorrow. Should I tell the truth, or make up a really fun story? *G*
I'm a mess: sore throat, chills alternating with sweats (but I don't think an actual fever), iffy stomach and exhaustion.
Despite this, I've cleaned (and, thanks to mice, disinfected to the nth degree) and organized most of my kitchen over the past couple of days. Before I got sick, Randy and I bought some new containers to securely store anything a mouse might find tempting. Containers must have lids; I've learned that no matter how tall something is, mice can get into them. I've developed an image of a paratrooper mouse with old-fashioned goggles, leather helmet and jacket replete with white silk scarf deftly guiding his shoot into the target, a big mousy smile on his face as he lands behind enemy lines.
The mice have won many battles, but I'm determined to win the war. They can just take their parachuting furry backsides to my neighbor's house instead.
Despite this, I've cleaned (and, thanks to mice, disinfected to the nth degree) and organized most of my kitchen over the past couple of days. Before I got sick, Randy and I bought some new containers to securely store anything a mouse might find tempting. Containers must have lids; I've learned that no matter how tall something is, mice can get into them. I've developed an image of a paratrooper mouse with old-fashioned goggles, leather helmet and jacket replete with white silk scarf deftly guiding his shoot into the target, a big mousy smile on his face as he lands behind enemy lines.
The mice have won many battles, but I'm determined to win the war. They can just take their parachuting furry backsides to my neighbor's house instead.
It suddenly struck me today that I don't want to be perfect. It's an awful lot of work for an impossible goal.
No, I don't want to be perfect.
I just want everyone to think I am!
No, I don't want to be perfect.
I just want everyone to think I am!
