Way back when...

First of all, thank you to my big sister for sending me this very dated picture. I know she will be mad at me for posting this, but it is too classic to avoid it. This picture is cool on so many levels. Let me point out a few of the obvious:
1) The very blue and green 70s table cloth.
2) Dad's very big "Chips" sunglasses, which he still wears (some things never change).
3) Mine and my sister's very stylish doo's. (All of that credit goes to my mom-thanks Mom.)

With all good memories, also come the bad. As I recall, it was here (well, at the playground to the left just beyond the photograph) that I lost my very first and only imaginary friend, Angel. She died from lightening that struck her. My mom wouldn't let me save her because it was storming too bad and I had to go inside. I am, of course, not bitter about this...after all, she was only an imaginary friend.

Oh the joys of being a Preacher's Kid, where the closest playground was in walking distance, and the ride to school was in the church bus...or van, whichever was more embarrassing for a 7th grader.

Out of date, out of style

I was meeting a friend for lunch today, and as I was waiting on her to show up, I decided to "people watch." I knew better than to do that because I usually just get mean when I do. But as I was watching the people in front of me, a woman with two small children walked right by me to the trash can to dump her tray.

It was at that moment when she walked by that I could feel my already big eyes grow just a tad bit bigger and my jaw drop slightly open. Poor thing. I guess she didn't get the fashion memo from the 90's and beyond. She was wearing very tight short spandex shorts. Yes, spandex. Those poor children--how embarrassing.

I don't care if you're a frickin' beanpole. Spandex. Is. Not. Cool....Period.

This week I...

flew to Houston for a business meeting.
took 25 seemingly interesting geonerds to lunch.
got annoyed with a cab driver, that did not know where the heck he was going, take 45 minutes to get me to my meeting and then charged me an arm and a leg for it.
got my hair re-highlighted and cut.
watched "Da Vinci Code" with $77 million bucks worth of other people.
decided that parachuting out of a plane might be worth considering as opposed to giving birth where I discovered that women are 6 times more likely to die giving birth than taking that plunge out of the plane.
washed my car....well, had the automatic car washer wash my car. :)
got in the hot tub when it was 90 degrees outside. (it was very hot!)
watched my own "Lost" marathon: the first 10 episodes of the first season.
thought seriously about starting up my workout routine again (since I'm paying 60 bucks a month for it!!!).
looked at my calendar and decided I am too busy.
ate M&Ms with a co-worker to make the time go by faster.
cried just a little when I read that the CW picked up "7th Heaven" for another mind-numbing season.
made a pact with two friends not to fall into the "7th Heaven" trap for its seemingly final season.
watched a lawn man trip and fall over his weed-eater when edging the sidewalk down below.
laughed out loud at poor lawn man.
pondered the realization that I laugh at people a lot.

Moving

I usually consider myself to be in pretty good shape...that is, until I have to do something physically challenging or exhausting, then I verbalize what a complete and total wuss I am.

I helped a friend move this past Saturday from one apartment to another, and the first apartment just happened to be on the third, that's right, the third floor. Looking back, I wish I had counted the stairs just to see how many steps I took during this phsyically demanding feat, but then again that would show my obsessive compulsiveness, and I'd hate to do that. :)

For those of you that know me, know that I am without a doubt an organizational fanatic. So you realize my delight in not only helping someone move, but helping them PACK too!! I love packing. I love moving. It brings this incredibly dorky characteristic out in me that only my closest friends get to see. I don't admit to being that dorky to just anyone.

I was in charge of the kitchen. Once we got some jamming music going, I knocked that kitchen out in no time (okay so it took a little longer than it should because I almost let my organization get the best of me when I started to organize the stuff IN the boxes instead of just packing them).

A 32 ounce Pepsi, a Whatchamacallit, 100 upbeat songs, a lot of laughter and a little sweat later, we made good progress. It wasn't until we started wrapping things up around midnight that it hit me how tired my body really was. I knew that my legs would be kicking my butt in the morning. And they did.

I'd do it all again, not just because I am that much of an organizational freak, but because I like helping my friends out. So, here's to helping friends, even if it means having sore muscles for three days. :) ha ha

Small children crack me up

So while the rest of you were probably enjoying a new episode of CSI last night, Mike and I got to sit through and endure about 50 three, four, and five year olds singing 22, that's right 22, children's song at my niece's pre-K graduation. After about 45 minutes into the songs, the kids were obviously antsy and did not want to be sitting up on the stage. On more than one occassion a child would shout out, "Teacher, can we go sit with our moms and dads now?!"

Whoever was behind having these small children sit through and sing 22 songs was beyond me. Don't they know, after having taught these kids on a regular basis, that their attention spans are all but about 30 seconds?! Lucky for us, Becca was on the front row and provided plenty of entertainment for us all. When it was her time to get up to sing with her small group, she had taken her flip flops off and spent about 5 minutes trying to get them back on as everyone waited. :) A couple of times, we caught sight of her giving the "Heman Woman Haters Club" special sign. What a riot!

The only thing that made this trip worthwhile (other than the obvious Becca), were perhaps the kid who kept falling asleep on stage, and the little boy that fell off the stage into a tree that was staged for decoration. I just couldn't keep from laughing.

A walk down Memory Lane

So when I went to my friend's My Space page just now, I was delightfully excited to hear the familar beat and words to "The Right Stuff." Let me preface this by saying I was a DIE-HARD New Kids On the Block fan, but because of their secular nature was not allowed to listen to them at my house. So what did I do? I went to my best friend's house to dance to their music, play with the NKOTB barbie dolls, and religiously watch the VHS tapes with their concerts and videos. Good times for sure!

I remember being particularly jealous when my sister's best friend actually got to go see them live in concert, and the closest that I could get to them was to pull out my pancake sized button with Joey's face plastered on the front from my secret NKOTB stash.

Is it sad that I still know the words to their songs, and can still remember the feeling of excitement that I got when I finally mastered the lyrics to the Christmas song about Santa falling from the fireplace and burning his butt? Audrey and I would take turns walking around the block listening to their tapes on her walk-man. Oh the good ole days...

It's been fun remembering all of my associations with NKOTB. For now, I'll leave you with this, so that you can enjoy reminiscing with me...

Today is...

Be Kind to Smelly People Day!!

Some people in Bend, Oregon obviously did not get the "Be Kind to Smelly People" memo:

Smelly people banned from buses
A new rule in Bend, OR, bans spitting, smoking or stinking on buses:

The regulations ban anyone who "emanates a grossly repulsive odor that is unavoidable by other Bend Extended Area Transit customers" from being in the bus station or on a bus.

Here's another person's interesting opinion of smelly people.

Dog Talk

Just got finished talking online to Mike. As I usually do, I ask him what Simon is doing or how he is doing.

Our conversation:
Me: What's Simey doing?
Him: Sleeping
Me: zzzzz.....
Him: zzzzzz......treat......zzzzzz
Me: LOL
Him: zzzzzz.....toys.....zzzzz

I love my little Stinky Pot. :) He's so predictable, and he loves his treats, his sleep, and his toys! He's a good boy!!

He also loves going to Grandma's to play with his neighbor dog friend (well, bark at him, this peep hole is as close as he gets to him).