It's National Pie Day! And I've added other things that I felt the need to share...

Tammy, over at The Pink Magnolia is hosting a "National Pie Day Recipe Exchange" (who'd a thunk such a thing as "National Pie Day" existed?). As I believe I've mentioned before on numerous occasions, I. Do. Not. Like. To. Cook. Nor am I particularly good at it. But behold. I have found a pie recipe that even I have mastered. Probably because no actual cooking is involved. It is, however, generally made in the kitchen so that has to count for something on the "I am Wonder Woman of the Kitchen" scale of life, right? I got the recipe from my niece's childhood friend, who got it from her mother. I begged for months to get this recipe. (See? When I ask for a recipe, nobody takes me seriously!) Anywho, it is so easy to make and it tastes absolutely delicious! This recipe makes two, count 'em TWO, pies and I'm telling you, when you serve one of these babies, people will think you really know what you’re doing in the kitchen! (If you knew the true state of my culinary skills, you'd understand why that statement is, indeed, so powerful). So here it is...the recipe for a

MILLION DOLLAR PIE

Ingredients:
1 20 oz can of crushed pineapple
1 15 oz can of mandarin oranges
1 15 oz can of diced peaches
1 14 oz can of condensed milk
½ cup lemon juice
2 8 oz tubs of Cool Whip®
2 regular graham cracker crusts

Pour fruit into a colander. Drain well (best to put the colander in a bowl and set in fridge. Fruit will drain faster and better in cold temperature – I actually drain mine overnight). After draining all juice, put fruit into a bowl with condensed milk and lemon juice. Mix gently. Fold in 1 tub of Cool Whip®. Spoon into crusts. Top with remaining Cool Whip®. Place in fridge (or freezer!) until ready to serve. Simple as that. The only danger comes in your knowing that this puppy's sitting in your fridge or freezer just waiting for someone to come along and appreciate it's near rapturous glory. (And by "someone", I mean ME!) Ahhhhhh. Hey you know what? I have to make a Wal-Mart run today anyway...I think I may have to purchase the ingredients for this. I usually only make it once or twice a year because, well...as I'm sure you've guessed, I have absolutely NO will power. But will power's for monks and rockheads, am I right? Yes, my leetle chickens, I am.

The rest of this post is totally unrelated to the love of pies so if that's all you came for, you might want to skedaddle before your eyes begin crossing and you start questioning the whole concept of blogging as a whole (my ramblings have been known to have that affect on some, particularly members of my own family - which should speak volumes about just exactly how much rambling I actually do!). Now that the "Public Health Warning" is out of the way, let me tell you about something that happened to me yesterday. I had engaged in what is commonly referred to as "therapeutic shopping". I went to Target and Ross's and Kohl's and Rack Room Shoes...mainly buying for my granddaughters' Easter boxes (boxes instead of baskets because they live in Okinawa and if I sent the stuff in baskets, most of it would probably fall out before it even reached California, you know what I mean?). I had a mahhh-velous time. Then my foot started to hurt, mainly because of the crappy shoes I was wearing. While I love those shoes for their ease of access (they're slip-ons), they'll never win any fashion awards and their comfort only lasts for about 2 hours before my right foot starts threatening to grind its way up to my nasal cavity. (I have some sort of something or other on that heel that I've been meaning to get fixed since 1996, but the stupid doctor said I'd have to wear an orthopedic shoe on that foot for 6 weeks after the surgery and who wants to do that?) Anyway, I ignored my feet for another couple of hours after the outset of "the throb" until I'd reached the point of knocking some poor elderly woman out of her little motorized scooter. That's when I decided I'd better do something. By then, I was at J.C. Penney's so I headed to the shoe department. (Hey, I wasn't done with my therapy yet...I needed new shoes in order to continue). Well. As it turns out, they were having a bit of a sale. Buy one pair, get the second pair half off. And at their prices, that half off turned out to be fairly substantial. So I had no choice really. I bought two pair. And immediately put one pair on so that I could continue with my quest. I found Maddy Moose 3 more shirts and then I found one for myself. I loved it...thought it was bee-u-t-ful! So I bought it. Now we're at the point of the story (I told you I rambled, quit complaining!). I head on up to the check-out station (which, by the way, when did Penney's start doing an Old Navy type of check-out - you know, an entire row of registers, instead of the "register in every department" old way?). Anywho - the cashier dude, who had about 4 different colors in his hair and was wearing an argyle sweater over a funky pair of pants, took one look at me and the shirt I was buying and yelled "Wow! You ARE LOUD!", all the while laughing in what I considered to be a totally unprofessional manner. I mean really! This walking kaleidoscope was commenting on my fashion sense?? After I progressed past the urge to smack him around a little, I realized...he might have a point. There I was, wearing this shirt:
While carrying this bag (which is HUGE):
While purchasing this shirt:
Loud? Well...yeah. Maybe. I guess so. Oh all right! I know so. I think I may have become one of those older women that people point at in crowds. lol My BFF Susan always said I liked gaudy stuff and I guess she was right. Because I love the shirt I was wearing, I positively adore that purse and I'm pretty darn smitten with my new shirt, too. I have to confess...just the thought that there's people out there who would rather wear a burka than be caught wearing a shirt like the new one just makes me SMILE because damn, people! It's bright, it's happy and it feels GOOD to wear it. Take it from me! Stop pointing at oddballs and just become one (if wearing something like this is the new standard for "odd")! And there is one undeniable upside to dressing in things like this....Randey can always find me in a crowded room. We don't need no stinkin' cell phones, he just has to look up and he can spot me from a mile away! ha (Now stop smirking at my shirt, Susan, because I bought you one, too! ha,ha,ha,ha...okay, just kidding. Relax.)

So to celebrate my new-found realization that I am LOUD, I asked Randey and Jacob (Kaleb was working!) out to dinner at a Mongolian Grill (my gosh! talk about D-lish!). After dinner, we got our customary fortune cookies.

Randey's said "You will soon be awarded a great honor". Jake's said "Life is a series of choices. Today yours are good ones". Mine? Mine said "Your judgement (sic) is a little off at this time. Rely on friends". Rut-Row! Surely this isn't referring to my new shirt??????? Naaaaa. That'd just be freaky.

Finally, I'll finish this book...er, I mean post, with some pictures of Sydney the Wonder Dog. While I was shopping yesterday, I came across this little doggy bed for him. He already has a bed, but it's usually kept downstairs and I've long thought that he needed one for upstairs, too. And guess what...he loves it. That's the beauty of Sydney...he loves all his new toys and stuff and acts like it's the most wonderful thing in the world when he gets something new. Unlike my actual children, who have sometimes shown little or no appreciation for my choices in fashion, etc. that I've brought them. And no, before you even think it, I have never tried to make them wear clothes even remotely similar in color and/or shape to mine. Except for that one time when I bought Nick the green shirt and green pants. I thought they looked great. And my sister bought my nephew the same outfit, but in purple. So who do you think came out worse in that deal? Yeah, that's what I said. Nick should have been grateful green was my favorite color and not pink, right? Anywho...gaze upon this beautiful and perfect specimen of Chihuahua.

But look, after taking about 20 pictures, even Sydney seemed to be trying to hide his face from me. Go figure.
Okay. All done. I'm going to make a serious effort to not write posts this long in the future. Except for that tag I just got from Jennifer at Dust Bunny Hostage. Seven random things. Sheesh. I spill my guts on here all the time. Coming up with 7 things that you guys don't know about me is tough. I was supposed to do a tag of five things last month and couldn't come up with even that many. Seven may tax my "expression of the truth". In other words, I may have to resort to lying! lol

Martin Luther King Day

I had a great teacher in high school - one of those guys that really makes you think. You could tell that he truly loved teaching kids and that he wanted us to learn. Mr. Holland is one of those teachers that leaves a lasting impression on a person. Here's something he taught me:
The races of this world have long been identified by color...the "black" man, the "white" man, the "yellow" man, the "red" man, etc. It's a rather simplistic way to separate people because while everyone "gets" that skin color can be different, they don't "get" just how little a difference there truly is. It's a classic case of not being able to see the forest for the trees. Let me demonstrate (and this is very similar to how Mr. Holland demonstrated his point for us, his students, way back in 1979). This is a picture of a so-called "black" woman, Maya Angelou.

Look closely. Yes, her skin is dark. But black? Not hardly. This is the color black:
This next picture is of a person of Native American descent. A so-called "red" man (or woman, in this case!). Does she look red to you? If you said yes, look again.This is the color red.

Here's a picture of a person of Oriental descent. Remember the politically incorrect '70's when Kung Fu was on the air? Every week you heard the term "yellow man" (usually spoken by some wild, wild west sort of character with a huge chaw of tobacco in his mouth. lol). Well this little girl doesn't look all that yellow to me.
This is what I call yellow:This is a picture of a so-called "white" person. Now I've seen a lot of pale people in my time, really I have. My BFF Susan's oldest daughter for one. That girl's darn near the color of milk. But still... She's not quite as white as, well..."white". Like this is.
So what's the point of all this talk of color? It's simple really. We may call ourselves and each other by all these chromatic names, but it won't change the true fact and that is...
We're all really just different shades of brown.
So go ahead and define the world in terms of pigmentation. It won't make you any more white or black or red or yellow. You are now and will always be, simply a shade of brown. Just like the rest of us.

This "philosophy" on color is something I've passed on to my children. I want them to know and understand that you cannot and should not judge a person based on what shade of brown they are. It's what's in their hearts and minds that matter. Be it good or be it bad, that's what you should base your opinion of someone on. How will we ever learn to accept one another if we're always looking to high-light a difference so ridiculous as skin color? I promise you, I do not care how dark you are or how light you are...you're still brown, I'm still brown, the guy standing between us is still brown...so let's move on and solve the world's real problems together.

If I subscribe to this magazine, does it come with a years free airbrushing for ME, too?

See the picture on the left? I found it on the website for "O" (Oprah's magazine). It's from the November 2007 issue. See the picture on the right? It was taken at the premier of Denzel Washington's movie "The Debaters" during the first week of December 2007. Am I crazy or does Oprah look a little less svelte in the second shot, which was, in theory, taken around the same time, give or take a few months? I'm thinking either Oprah had one heck of a Thanksgiving dinner or somebody got a little too enthusiastic with the airbrushing for that magazine cover. If anyone were to wonder why women all over the world have such a bad self image, this just might be a clue. I wonder if any cover of any magazine (outside of National Geographic!) shows a "true" image of anybody. Somehow, I doubt it. I would dearly like to know why someone with a "nice, normal figure" has to be airbrushed into "perfection". What purpose does it serve? Besides to keep the diet industry rich. And my mirror covered.

The Tag Says to tell "Why I Think It's Good to be Me"

Brenda, over at Country Romance tagged me with a "Why It's Good to be Me" meme. I've got to be honest with you, the way 2008 has started out, I was sort of struggling with answers to this one. But then I stumbled upon a BIG reason why I'm glad I'm me and I'm glad I live in this day and age. I know that the true spirit of this particular meme is so that we can all take a moment to review our lives and realize what all we have to be thankful for. However, I'm going to take a different tack and use it to make my own humble commentary on life as a woman. And no....before the thought even begins to form in your mind, this is not a "rant". Repeat after me, "This is a Social Commentary". Big difference. Really big. For instance, "rant" has only 4 letters, while "Social Commentary" has 16. Plus a space. See what I mean? Big difference. So, let's get started...
"It's good to be me" because I was born at a time when more women than ever were working and it was becoming more the norm than the exception to have a mother who worked outside the home. Why was that important to me as a female child? Because it showed me that women have options! Women could take the skills that are necessary to run a household and use them to run a company, as well.
"It's good to be me" because the whole time I was in grade school, I thought it was normal for the girls to be smarter than the boys. Now hear me out before you start labeling me as arrogant! Back in the day, all the boys in my classes were into sports almost to the exclusion of all else. That's how it seemed to me, anyway. At the end of every year, when we had award ceremonies for the "Top 3" in each academic subject, it was almost exclusively girls who won those awards. The boys didn't seem to see a problem with that and I certainly didn't. I, and many of my friends, thought it was normal. Of course, once I got up into high school, which had a much larger student body, I came to realize that boys had brains, too. (I should have focused a little more on those brains instead of getting blinded by their prowess on the football field. Yeah. Well. Good memories, anyway...). But the point I'm making is "girls being smart" wasn't always expected, accepted or even allowed up until fairly recently in our country's development.
"It's good to be me" because I can vote! Do you realize that the Nineteenth Amendment was passed less than a hundred years ago??? On August 18, 1920, the Nineteenth Amendment, which was specifically intended to extend suffrage to women, was ratified. In other words, some of our mother's, our grandmother's, our great-grandmother's who are still with us today were born to women who did not have the right to vote. Can. You. Imagine??? (And for all you women out there who do not vote, shame on you! Our foremothers, and even some of our forefathers, fought long, hard battles so that we might have this precious right. USE IT!) By the way, in 1893, New Zealand became the first major self-governing country in the world to give women the vote. (Progressive New Zealand. You gotta love that! I know I do.)
Having said that, I must now say that "it's good to be me" because I live in the United States of America and, while we have our problems and our bloated bureaucracies (that's a little shout out to the VA!), it's still a wonderful place to live. I can speak my mind without fear of death squads hunting me down and I can travel freely from state to state without having to fear some Nazi-like border guard demanding to see my "papers". I can worship God in the way I chose (or even not worship, if that was how I wanted to go). I can walk into a grocery store and not have to fight over the last loaf of bread because this is, indeed, the land of plenty. I know that America is not the only great place to live in the world, but it's my home and I know I am blessed to be here.
"It's good to me be" because I live in a time and a place where I can read anything and everything that I get my hands on. I can do this because reading has always been a thrill in my life. Even when I was young, reading was a favorite pastime, right along with climbing trees, playing with dolls, perfecting my softball catch or eye-balling good looking guys. My parents imparted a love of reading to me. They never made a big production out of it, they just read. For pleasure, for higher education, for political edification, for news of the day. They just read. It was good to be brought up in an atmosphere where frequent reading was the norm.
And finally, "it's good to be me" not just because I'm a woman in today's world, but because I am a part of the world of blogging, too. I love having the freedom to say what I want on my very own blog and everyone out there can respond as they see fit. (Or not respond...even lurkers are welcome here!) I can state my opinions, I can gripe about the way the world is treating me, I can brag about my children, I can proclaim how lucky I am in my marriage, but equally as important (and some days, much more important!) I can enter the worlds of others and learn how you live, how you feel, how your world is treating you. I can laugh at your stories, I can tear up when you tell me of a sad or touching event. And I can offer you comfort or humor or sarcasm and I can even commiserate with you when you describe something I'm familiar with. Yep. It is good to be me because I get to know you. For those of you who welcome me into your world, I say thank you ----

P.S. Now I tag Jana at Jana Banana's Babbling and Kari at Alas 3 Lads and Jayme at Scrapper Mama/Jayme's Life and Kathy at Remembering the Moments and Lynne at Lynne's Little Corner and the amazingly funny Sling over at Sling's Domain. These are people that I don't think I've ever tagged before but I absolutely, positively and thoroughly enjoy reading their blogs. If anyone's looking to beef up their blog roll with some good people, these are 6 I would most certainly recommend to you. And I'll end this with saying to these 6 people, if you don't care for meme's, no hard feelings. In addition to wanting to know more about you, I also just wanted to give you a mention to let you know how much I appreciate your blogging efforts (Jana's taught me how important it is to let people know that!!!).

Say "Hey" to Jana!

Hey guys! Anybody reading this, please go over to Jana's blog at Jana Banana's Babbling and welcome her back to Blogland. Jana took a loooooooong break (since October 2007) from blogging because she didn't think anyone was reading! (Well, that and she's been waaaaay busy planning for her new baby who is due in May.) Please stop by and tell her hello! She's a wonderful and entertaining person who honestly wants to meet and greet (just like the rest of us). And she'll probably be mortified that I'm trying to send you guys over there, but I don't want her to stop blogging again just because she doesn't think anyone's interested!!! And Jodie - you especially should go over there and check out the nursery she painted for her baby. You'll love the colors!

A Meme of 8

This is a meme I saw on another blog and thought it would be fun to do (you know, you could make an effort to work with me and not roll your eyes like that. I'm trying to get back into blogging again. It's harder than you might think. I've only recently discovered that I don't actually have anything interesting to talk about. But maybe, just maybe, if I spew enough random thoughts out here, something worthwhile might scitter across my brain and give me an idea for a good post. And if not, what have you lost but a little time. Besides, didn't your mother ever warn you about rolling your eyes? Do you really want to chance going thru life looking like that blind Shaolin monk from the old Kung Fu television series? I thought not. So okay, here we go):

8 things you are passionate about:
My family
My friends
My dog, Sydney
Reading
Making our house a home
Truth
Justice
and the American Way (yeah, me and Superman…we’re all over this concept so you can rest easy!)

8 things you want to do before you die:
See all my children reach their age of majority
See all my children happy and successful in their chosen vocations
Learn to be sociable
Read a million more books (might cut in to that "sociable time" I wa hoping to work on)
See Times Square during the holidays
Visit New England during the fall
Get a real, honest to goodness tan
Move home to Oklahoma
(Wow. I may need to raise the bar a little bit. My "Bucket List" doesn't really seem all that ambitious, does it?)

8 things I say more often than I need to:
"Infidel! I keel you!"
"I’m not your friend, your buddy or your pal. I’m your Mama so shut up and listen."
"Let’s eat out."
"Geez"
"Jackass"
"Move your bloomin’ arse!"
"I hate talking on the phone!" (I keep saying this but no one seems to listen!lol)
"You’re so good lookin'. Yes you are!" (I tell that to Sydney the Wonder Dog at least once a day. Hey! He’s a Chihuahua! You almost have to tell them they're good-looking or they get depressed!)

8 books read recently:
Bones to Ashes – Kathy Reich
Carved in Bone – Jefferson Bass
Crescent City Kill – Julie Smith
Star Wars: Republic Commando: True Colors – Karen Traviss
The Alibi Man – Tami Hoag
The Society – Michael Palmer
The Twelfth Card – Jeffrey Deaver
Star Wars: Darth Bane: Rule of Two (still reading it) – Drew Karpyshyn

8 songs I love right now:
Dream Weaver – Gary Wright
Sweet Escape – Gwen Stefani
At Last – Etta James (I’ll always love that song)
Never Again – Kelly Clarkson
The Rockafeller Skank – Fatboy Slim (yeah, so I’m a little embarrassed about this one but it’s good!)
Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie
Back in Black – AC/DC (this one just never gets old)
Minnie the Moocher – Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

8 Favorite Shows on TV:
Criminal Minds
Bones
The Closer
Law & Order (I’m loving the new detective guy!)
Psych
House
Numb3rs
Burn Notice

8 Qualities you look for in a friend:
tolerance
honesty
common sense
sense of humor
grouchy without coffee
tall
blond
must be named Susan :> (okay so this one is only necessary if we’re talking BFF here. lol)

Originally this one was “8 Radio Shows you listen to” but I don’t listen to enough radio to name 8 shows. Therefore, I’ve changed it to “8 Authors That You Would Pay Hardcover-Full-Price for Their Books" (that translates into True Love if you’re as cheap as I am. lol):
J. K. Rowling
Jefferson Bass
Harlan Coben
Janet Evanovich – (the “number” series only, though)
Dan Brown
Michael Connelly
John Sandford
Dick Francis

So what have we learned about me, ladies and gentlemen? We've learned that I love crime stories, whether written or portrayed on TV, I love reading, I love my family (and am particularly smitten with Sydney the Wonder Dog), I cuss a bit too much and I'm kind of a freak when it comes to music choices. Huh. Who'd of thunk? So how about you guys? Anybody got the time to do their Meme of 8? Let me know if you do. I'm hopelessly nosey and would love to read it!

Book Reports and Things that Make Me Go "Hmmmmmmmm"....

I've been a bad blogger this year. I've found myself full of bad attitude and unsociable tendencies. Well, that and a wicked kind of flu/cold and a nasty case of back spasms have kept me from blogging daily and answering e-mails. In short, I have been bitchy. Rea-ea-eallly bitchy. The downside to that, in addition to the bad blogging habits, is that I am not winning friends or influencing people in my normal, charming (ha,ha,ha,ha,ha) way. The upside? I've gotten to do a lot of reading because, basically, no one else wants anything to do with me so I've turned to books for entertainment and companionship. And I gotta tell 'ya...the beauty of books doesn't just lie within the adventure of the stories they contain. A large part of the beauty is that books, quite simply, don't talk back. Unlike husbands and children who are comfortable in the belief that they are faster than I and the knowledge that I have no memory retention to aide me in plotting their punishment for any mouthy transgressions. But let's not delve into my family dynamics at this point, okay?
Anywho...here's my oh so humble opinion about 3 of the books I read the past week:

Does anybody watch the T.V. show Bones? I do. I usually love it, although it seems like about every 6th show, the writers forget what they're doing and write something so incredibly stupid that my brain leaks multiple I.Q. points just for having been exposed to the sheer lameness of the story. But, as I said, I usually love it. I started watching it because I had read a number of Kathy Reichs' books and enjoyed most of them. That and I've long been a fan of the leading man, David Boreanaz. Yeah. I'm shallow like that. Sue me. Anyway, while the last couple of Kathy's books haven't exactly floated my boat, I decided to buy this book (Bones to Ashes) because the storyline seemed interesting to me. This book didn't get rave reviews from the readers at Mystery Guild, but I actually enjoyed it. I found it to be very engaging and a fine read. Maybe my literary needs are just too simple compared to others, but I would recommend this one to anyone who asked (and even to all of you who haven't).

I also read this book, Crescent City Kill, by Julie Smith. This is a slightly older book, having been first published in the '90's. I thought this one was also pretty good, except for the ending. I won't get into all the details of how and why, but I will say this (which will pretty much ruin the ending regardless so skip over if you just can't bear to know): Sooner or later, I think it's just good sense to have the bad guy get caught and punished. You can't keep letting him escape or, eventually, your reading audience will start to think evil always triumphs and, personally, I think that scenario sucks. So arrest or kill the guy already, okay Julie?
Now this book, Carved in Bone, was FANtastic! My BFF Susan had pointed it out to me when she was visiting last month. I bought it then and finally got around to reading it and I have to tell you, I can't wait to read another one. The author, Jefferson Bass, is actually a team of 2 individuals and man - what a fabulous team they are! Susan said she thought they got a little dry in places and spoke a little too much about technical issues, but I can't even find that criticism to be true for me. I am a new fan and convert to these guys. A new book, called The Devil's Bones, comes out February 5th and I'll be buying it for sure. They also have a book called Flesh and Bone that I'm on the lookout for. If I can't find it locally, I'll have to order it online. I highly recommend this book if you like a good plot, good characters and a good old fashioned mystery involving a dead body. And who doesn't like that, eh?
Okay, book reports are over for now. I have no idea why I even think anyone would be interested in my opinions of them, but heck...at least I'm blogging again. That's got to be worth something. Right? R-I-G-H-T??? Say "yes" so I can rest easy in the knowledge that you care. Or even in the belief of the knowledge that you care. Thank you. Moving on....
Not only have I spent much time reading, I've also taken the opportunity to ponder several issues in life. Things that make me go "hmmmmmmm". Such as...just how many cars do they have over in the Middle East and how cheap are these things to get? I mean really. These people are portrayed as financially poor and culturally "focused" shall we say, on their own belief system and way of life (or death, as the case may be). I know that Bin Laden and others like him have wealth. I also know that he's not exactly passing out debit cards to his followers for them to use down at Abdullah's Used Car Lot. And if 90% of the populations of these countries are poor and going hungry, who in the hell is buying all these cars that are being used by suicide bombers? You know, I've been poor. Of course, according to the media, my life of "poor" pales in comparison to that suffered by the "every day man" in the Middle East. Nevertheless, when I was poor, getting a car was difficult. Randey and I bought "beater" cars, mainly. You know the kind...4 bald tires, no air, no heat, and a radio that was hanging on by one thin wire. Sure, these beaters only cost around $500 but they provided much needed transportation and weren't disposed of lightly. But these guys over there...they're blowing up Beemers and Mercedes! What the heck? Sheesh! How poor are you when you treat freakin' cars like they're disposable? And where do they find the idiots to drive their disposable cars anyway? I mean how does that recruiting speech go? "Sign up here to blow your body and your family's only means of transportation to work and/or escape from the hell hole that has become your neighborhood to smithereens and, in return, we promise you virgins. Lots of virgins!". You know, not to sound crass or hedonistic or even flip...but these people sure 'nuff put one ginorous premium on virginity, don't they? Just to throw this out there... back in my long-lost virgin days, had I thought for one instant that my reward for purity would be a place in the harem of one of these dumbasses, I would have been hawkin' my body down on the local street corner just to guarantee exclusion from that particular club. Go ahead. Call me a slut. Better than the alternative. I would consider that a step up from their offer.
Another thing that baffles me and has for years...how do you throw away a trash can? I'm serious. You have a trash can you don't want anymore so you set it out to the curb. The garbage men come by, see it's empty and leave it. I mean, it's a trash can. How do you signify that it's actually the trash. You could write "trash" on the side of it, but what good would that do? It'd just make you look OCD and compelled to label even your trash receptacles. I guess you could put the trash can in a bag. But what if you don't have a big enough bag? What then? Do you cut your trash can up into little bitty pieces? Do you take it down to Goodwill as if it were a donation? Do you throw it over your neighbor's fence and pretend the wind blew it there and you have no knowledge of it's true ownership? So many questions. No clear solution. Makes me go "hmmmmmmm".....
Here's another question for the masses...if they can make a hair color to turn your hair red, orange, black, brown, blond, purple, green and /or blue, why the heck can't they make a hair color to turn your hair gray? I've recently decided to let my hair go gray. Glorious gray. How's that working out, you ask? Well I'll tell you. I look like I tumped a bag of all-purpose flour on top of my head. Nice and white/gray on top, Ms. Clairol red on bottom. Can you buy a bottle of gray hair color that will make it all blend? No. You. May. Not. Your options? Shave your head and start over or suffer until the colored hair grows out. Nice, huh? Come on all you Cosmetic Industry Gurus! If Michael Jackson can make his skin white, why can't you do that for my hair? Hmmmmmmm????
Finally, can anybody out there please explain to me exactly why our society venerates actors and athletes? Honestly! We base our hair cuts, our clothing choices, our political opinions, our estimation of a successful life on people who PRETEND or PLAY GAMES for a living! How smart is that? If you want to be considered "important" these days, you'd either better learn to lie and fake your way thru every emotion imaginable or you'd better learn how to play a game better than anybody else. This conundrum doesn't just make me go "hummmmmm", it makes me laugh, cry, shake my fist in frustration and just generally wonder if the fall of civilization as we know it is at hand because we've put the jesters in charge of the court, so to speak. Pretenders and players rule our world. So what does that say about us?
Yeah, okay, I'm done now. Ranting seems to be my only talent these days, doesn't it? Ah well. One should stick with what one is good at, right? lol

Jeff Dunham - Achmed the Dead Terrorist

Pause my music to listen to this video. Beware of bad language and offensive jokes!

Hold the Cheese. I'm Only Interested in the Whine...

***Edited to Add: Several of you have suggested I contact our congressional representative so I thought I'd better add this: When I said "we have to start a huge, time-consuming, irritating, aggravating and heartburn causing campaign to stop the VA from ruining our financial lives", that's what I meant - that I would be sending a package containing all the pertinent facts to our congressperson. I'm sure we'll obtain relief that way, but man...have you ever had to do something like that? It's effective, but very time consuming to get every little bit of evidence together, write a letter detailing the problems, compile the information in a clear and concise way and then sit around and wait for a reply. Then, usually, that reply entails the need for more information, which you then have to get together and send. Then comes another reply asking for even more stuff. And on and on it goes. I've availed myself of the services of our congressional representatives numerous times in the past (in fact, I'm sure the FBI has a file somewhere with my name on it and the subtitle "Professional Bitcher"). I know I'll feel better once we've sent the initial package off to congress. It's getting that first one together that I find so tedious, time-consuming and aggravating. (See? I am a professional bitcher - I'm even griping about the help I'm going to ask for. lol).
What is "Luck" exactly? Something you're born with? Something you earn? Something you can touch, smell, feel or hear? I have no idea. What I do know is, our "luck" ain't good. Not good at all. Remember the other day when I mentioned something about a $25,000 problem with the VA? Listen to this...then tell me what kind of luck you think we're having.
As a special Happy New Year to Randey and me, the VA sent us a notice saying that they feel sure they've overpaid Randey by $25,444.23 (this overpayment being a result of Randey's switch from the Reserves to Active Duty from October 2001 until May of 2003) and that we can pay the debt in full by check, money order, VISA, Mastercard, American Express, Discover or even Western Union. Sweet, huh? And just to prove what a reasonable entity they are, if we are unable to make payment in full, they will work with us to establish a monthly payment schedule to clear the debt "within a reasonable time frame". Extra sweet. There's just a few problems with the whole thing, however. A) Randey's VA disability entitlement during the time in question was approximately $88 a month. Now I'm no math genius, true. But even I can tell that 21 months @ $88 per doesn't come anywhere near $25K. B) Randey never received any money for his disability until this year because all entitlements for the last 15 years went towards a repayment of the separation pay he received when he went from active duty to reserve status back in 1992. C) The money he has received (he's only been paid since April of this year) in no way, shape or form, totals anywhere near $25K. So, in other words, the VA is requesting a "repayment" of more money than they've ever paid him and they want repayment for a period of time when his total entitlement was less than $2,000.00. Either they have one hell of an interest rate working for them, or there's a problem with their accounting section. I'm going with the problem in the accounting section myself. I say that because Randey has actually requested a full audit of his VA benefits compensation account 3 times in the last 2 years and has yet to receive one. Two of his requests were made prior to any actual payment from the VA. What does all this actually mean to us? It means we have to start a huge, time-consuming, irritating, aggravating and heartburn causing campaign to stop the VA from ruining our financial lives. Randey called the VA "debt office" the other day and was given a fax number we could use to send some documentation to. By documentation, I mean a freakin' financial statement, detailing our assets and debts, so that the VA can decide whether or not to "waive" this debt. Not that we want the debt waived. We don't. We want it expunged because it doesn't actually exist! But sending the financial statement is the only way we can get the VA to put a freeze on the collection activity until this mess can be straightened out. The woman that Randey spoke to said she didn't see where he owed that debt, but then again, there were so many agencies involved that it was just too hard to tell...she saw activity from the Department of Defense (his current employer), his local VA office, his regional VA office, etc., etc., etc. She also said it looked like too many offices were involved and that none of them were talking. Great. ****Oh my gosh. This is too funny. As I'm writing this, Jake brought me the mail and in there is a letter from the VA. It's a form letter that starts "As you transition from the Military, VHA invites you to contact the local VA medical facility" blah, blah, blah. As you transition from the Military???? Say what?? Geez. Maybe the VA knows something that we don't and maybe we'd better check it out. Quickly. Randey is, at this very minute, in Seattle in military status. Sure hope he gets paid for it. Don't think I'm not seriously questioning that, either. After all, the VA seems to think he's out of the military all of the sudden. Do yourselves a favor and place both hands over your ears so I don't damage your hearing with the glass-shattering scream I'm fixing to let loose!!!!!
Does stuff like this ever happen to anyone else? I only ask because this isn't the first time we've been faced with something this irritating and downright unfair! The most recent was back in 2005 when we sold our house in Florida and moved here to Texas. Seems that the title company that handled the closing on the sale of our house in Florida didn't pay our house off. Yeah, you read that right. They didn't pay off the loan on our house. We had no idea until a month later when we received a late notice from what we thought was our former mortgage holder. We called the mortgage holder to tell them we no longer owned the house and that the funds should have been transferred at the time of sale. They didn't care. They flat out said that they did not care who, how or why the error had occurred - their only concern was when payment was made. And since payment for the previous month had not been made, they reported to the credit bureaus that we were 30 days past due on our mortgage. It took months and several letters to the Department of This and the Department of That within the state of Florida to get our credit reports corrected. And you want to know what the real kick in the pants was? The title company that caused all of it in the first place actually asked us to pay them for the additional interest it cost their company for paying our mortgage 30+ days later than they were supposed to. Can you believe that? And yeah. We declined their request. Loudly. So I ask you again...do things like this happen to anyone else? Or are Randey and I just living under some sort of Four-Leaf-Cloverless Cloud? You know, I have to laugh about it a little bit or I think I'll go insane. Personally, I'd just as soon get an attorney to handle the VA, but Randey...well, Randey's an optimist and actually believes he'll be able to get the VA to see that they're wrong. God loves an optimist, eh? And, apparently, so do I.

Just a quick word to let you know I'm not laid out in despair, wallering in self-pity over my weight issues! (I bet that's what ya'll thought I was doing, huh? Go on...you can admit it...it sounds like something I would do. lol) But alas, that's not the case. I woke up in the middle of the night a couple of days ago with the first little ticklings in my throat and, by morning, I was full into some kind of cold or flu. Today's the first day I've been out of bed and up the stairs since Wednesday night. I've read all of your comments regarding my post of the other day and want to thank you so much for your support. Now if I could just get you all to show up at my house and force me into that "power walking" schedule I so desperately need. lol In the meantime, I'm headed to the shower and then probably back to bed for a bit. I'd really like this cold to leave soon so I can see clearly enough to read all of your blogs (my head feels like it's wrapped in wool, right now). Hope everyone is doing well and look forward to catching up soon!

Out of the Mouths of Babes....

Ever notice how kids have an amazing capacity to say whatever it is they're thinking? Ever notice how we, the adults, can sometimes be caught totally unaware when a kid does just that? Here's a story of how I was blindsided by just such an occurrence. The amazing part is that I never saw it coming. Just goes to show how blissfully and, more to the point, how willfully ignorant I can be. As I mentioned before, we were going to Oklahoma for New Years Eve. My father lives up there with his lovely wife, Wendy. Wendy's 2 children and their families also reside in the great state of Oklahoma (you can't tell I'm an Okie and proud of it, huh?). It's always a wonderful time while we're up there. Everyone's so friendly and open and well, heck...it's just plain fun. And, for the most part, this visit was, too. Except for this one little, bitty, tiny part. What's that old saying? Something about "out of the mouths of babes"? There's another saying, too. Let me think...oh yeah, it's "kids say the darndest things". Boy, they sure do! Listen to what transpired this past weekend. There we were, the whole family, sitting around talking about going to Bricktown for a ride on the canal boats to see the Christmas lights. (For those of you who don't know, Bricktown is a revitalized part of downtown Oklahoma City that is just out of this world. It features a beautiful baseball park for the Oklahoma Redhawks, the minor league team for the Texas Rangers, as well as numerous restaurants and charming little stores). There's also something called "The Crystal Bridge", which is an enclosed Botanical Gardens (don't really know all the details about it, but I can say it was full of fascinating plant life and was very prettily lit up for the holidays). Anywho...as we were all sitting around, discussing our plans...my little step-neice, who is a perfectly adorable little 11 year old child, stated loudly and repeatedly that she didn't want to get into the boat with me because I was so fat that it would surely sink. I have to admit, my feelings were a little bit hurt, but hey - don't dish it out if you can't take it right? And I am constantly aggravating that kid (and every other one within reaching distance of me!) so it's not as if she shouldn't have felt it was okay to go at it with me. I was doing pretty good with it, I think. Kind of cringing inside everytime she said it, but thinking it was bound to stop sooner or later. I kind of played along and laughed and smiled...and then she said that I was way too happy about being so big. I, rather stupidly and disingenuously (as it turns out) said, "You've got to be proud of what your are, honey" to which she instantly replied, "What? A fat pig?". I actually gasped at that 'cause man, that kind of hurt. How stupid is that? I got my feelings hurt by an 11 year old. Sheesh. She did immediately apologize, but by then, my chipper outlook was pretty much flat-lined. lol And I very purposefully chose to steer clear of any more one-on-one conversations with her after that. (How's that for maturity?) But the good times weren't over. The next day, a bunch of us were standing and sitting around, laughing and talking and, I forget what led up to it, but my little niece said something and then ended with the comparison of her aunt and myself as being an example of "before and after" (i.e, I was ugly, the aunt was pretty). Hmmm. Okay. I have my moments of being way too thin skinned. I'll admit it. But that almost brought me to tears. Now don't get me wrong. This kid wasn't blurting out rude comments left and right just to be hurtful. I honestly believe she was "playing" and didn't intend to hurt my feelings so much. But that's the thing with kids. You get them going, and the next thing you know, they're saying things that stab you right through your heart and they don't even realize they've drawn blood. I have to say this, though...her comments really hit home. I thought about what all she'd said that night when I went to bed and before I realized it, I was crying like a baby. (Luckily, Randey was snoring his brains out by then and didn't notice because that would have been embarrassing!) This past year has not been my best, that's for sure. I've gained over 15 pounds in 10 months, the circles under my eyes keep getting deeper and deeper and I've made a big decision in the past couple of months that I'm no longer going to color my hair - I'm just letting it all go gray because well, heck, I happen to like the look of my gray hair. But I gotta tell 'ya...I don't know how much more my bruised ego can take. I guess somewhere, deep down inside, I knew I was beyond chubby and waaaaaay on into fat. And I knew I was aging badly because my mirror told me so. In an attempt to greet reality, I actually looked at the pictures Randey took of me this weekend. So, having done that, let me just say this: Hello, my name is Kari and I'm a fat-aholic. (Hi, Kari! faintly heard over and over in the background). In addition to the weight issues, I have to come to grips with the fact that I'm getting older and not doing it particularly well. I faced awhile ago that my days of youthful glory were numbered. After this weekend, I'm thinking that maybe that number is in the negative. lol Looky here: Yeah, that's me on the right. And listen, before any of you kind people decide to send a comment saying "Oh Kari, you're not that big", please remember that, A) I can see the same picture you can and yes, I am that big!, and B) telling someone they're not "that fat" is like saying "oh honey, you're not that ugly!". It's not as big a help as perhaps you would hope, okay? Yeah, okay, so maybe the red shower cap I'm wearing on my head isn't that big of a help, either, but let's not lose focus. I'm coming to realize that my physical appearance is such that young children feel the need to point and laugh. So why post a picture, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. I had meant to try and get in touch with my friend, Penny, from junior high while I was up in OKC. Just like I had mentioned to Kat (Just a Beach Kat) that I might be headed to her part of the world in March and that perhaps we could get together for lunch while I was there. I always have the best of intentions when I mention getting together with people. But then I don't follow through. Why? Because I don't want them to see me and say "WOW! She's really let herself go" or "Geez! Kari's HUGE!". So in the interests of full disclosure and to just lay it out there for all to see - here's a picture of me as I really am. (EEEEEeeeeeck! This is hard to do! lol) When did this happen? When did I become so big that I'm just downright ashamed? Why has it taken me so long to admit that to myself? Are fat people really that unlovable...even to themselves? And does being fat bother me enough for me to throw away my stash of Godiva chocolates? Isn't this the time of year for making one of those "I'm going to loose 425 pounds before St. Patrick's Day" kinds of resolutions? You know, when I stopped smoking after 25 years, I thought I could do anything. But losing weight is one battle I don't know if I can win. What's worse, I don't even know if I'm up for the fight. Which brings me to the other piece of bad news we got today upon our return from Oklahoma. I had planned to vent about it, but think I'll save that for another day. Suffice it to say, I will be spending most of tomorrow typing a letter to the Veterans Administration and our congressional representative to question just how in the heck they've (the VA) arrived at a particular conclusion that has caused them to claim an "overpayment" to us in excess of $25,000.00. Considering the total we've received from them is nowhere near that amount, I must admit to being baffled by their accounting procedures and will be asking for a "review" of their methods, to say the least. Not to worry, however. They very kindly pointed out that they do take Visa/Mastercard. (Yeah...what a relief. For a minute there, I thought I'd have to sell the yacht we keep moored off of Grand Cayman in order to pay them!). Leave it to Randey and me to incur an overpayment far in excess of any actual receipt of payment. Now that's talent, eh?

P.S. I forgot to say it, but HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYONE! There. I've said it. I'm going back to being grumpy now.

Christmas Catch-Up

Our Christmas season still hasn't completely wound down and I should be finishing up a few items to take to Oklahoma with us tomorrow, but I'm blogging instead. I'm afraid I'll be evicted from Blogland if I don't post something longer than a paragraph so here goes. (Got that cup of coffee or gallon of tequila ready? Okay...then let the rambling begin!) I was lucky enough to receive a lot of great things this year and I'm grateful for those who thought of me (and sometimes I really can't imagine why they chose to gift me with things...my attitude usually doesn't warrant such kindness. lol). Randey gave me a bottle of Brighton's Laugh perfume. I have Annie to thank for introducing me to the wonderful smells of Brighton perfumes. I bought myself the bottle of Dream - which I dearly love - way back in August, I believe, and Randey and the boys got me the bottle of Love for my birthday in September. Randey's decided that Laugh is his favorite (which is reason enough to wear it every day forever).
Randey also found me another Jim Shore cat, this one named Freedom. I already have Patience, Vigilance and Curiosity and Freedom fits right in with those three. There's something about these particular cats that I love. They just make me smile whenever I see them. Maybe because these cats don't make me sneeze!
Nick and Jodie sent me, among other things, a couple of Nicholas Sparks books and some clear stamps for scrapbooking and cardmaking. Actually, the "coffee" set of stamps were for my birthday (right, Jodie?) but I included them in the picture because I can't seem to quit looking at them. I'm all excited to use them. And Jodie, Susan got me an embosser for Christmas so I'll let you know how that works out (need to get some brown embossing powder so i can use my tasty looking Hot Chocolate stamp). Yum-o! As to the Nicholas Sparks books, Jodie's read them all and I've been saying for quite awhile that I'm going to read them, too. Now I have no reason not to. My only problem is getting hooked on them because then I'll feel compelled to buy every one he's ever written (Nick comes by his obsessive collecting honestly!).
Kaleb, who turned 17 years old just this past Thursday (Happy Birthday, son!!), got me this soup tureen for Christmas. Isn't it beautiful? I have developed this strange fetish for soup tureens lately and I can't even begin to tell you why. I just love them and feel the need to collect a couple (or a couple hundred, if I'm lucky -ha). I'm up to 3 now...and this one is my favorite, for obvious reasons. What a great kid, huh? And speaking of Kaleb being a great kid, look at what else he got me...this Darth Vader snowglobe! How goofy is this? I have to laugh at the thought of Vader making his list and checking it twice. Pretty sure this is one list no one wants to be on....

My Star Wars Christmas didn't stop there. My Aunt Ginger sent me this:
I don't care who you are, this is just plain funny. Darth Vader using a frozen Death Star to make snowballs. Oh come on! Yeah, yeah, yeah...so Vader and Christmas don't exactly go hand in hand. But it's still funny.
Aunt Ginger also sent this absolutely adorable figurine. It's R2-D2 all decked out for Christmas. R2 and Luke Skywalker are my all-time favorite Star Wars characters. I didn't even know they made this little Christmas figure so you can imagine how excited I was when I opened it. Awesome, huh?

Before Christmas, on the 20th, my very best friend in the whole wide world came to visit. Susan and her husband, Terry, drove in from Florida and stayed until Christmas Eve, when they drove back so they could spend Christmas Day with their kids and grandkids. It was so wonderful to see them - truly. Unfortunately, Randey did everything in his power to corrupt Terry with the Evil X-Box 360. It wasn't long before Terry started showing signs of addiction. So sad. Look at his eyes....

The "remove red-eye" feature on my computer couldn't get rid of that glow. (Click to enlarge). That oughta tell you something. He was almost possessed by this. It's far too late to save Randey from it, but I never saw it coming with Terry. I'm ashamed that his fever started in my home and I hope Susan was able to cure him before he made it back to their home. Tsk, tsk. That Randey. Some friend, huh?

Speaking of friends, I have a little bet to settle with Susan. She seems to think I was, perhaps, just a little bit...oh, what's the word...mean maybe?, when I bought her Christmas gift. She had told me that her doctor was making her check her sugar level several times a day because she was borderline diabetic. So, being the caring, understanding, full-hearted and loyal friend that I am, I chose gifts that I felt would help her in her on-going battle with keeping that sugar level at a reasonable level. I bought her these things:

Was that not nice? Don't these gifts just scream "I love you and want you to stay around for another 50 years" (yeah, that's another thing, Susan will be 50 years old this coming Tuesday, January 1st. Apparently, she's getting a tad bit cranky in her old age because she seemed to think I was being snarky and somewhat less than sincere with my gifts. Can you imagine????). I was only trying to help, I swear. She told me that she wanted me to pose the question to you, my blogging friends, to see what you thought of my gift. So tell me, guys: Was I being mean or snarky or sarcastic, etc., etc., etc.? Okay, before you answer that, let me add that I also got her a lovely Rachael Ray cookbook and a cookbook stand and a few bookmarkers and really nice smelling Morenci candle. The Splenda and Splenda Cookbook were bought for her own good. And it's not my fault that company named their book Diabetes for Dummies, now is it? Right? Nor is it my fault that Susan got me, among other things, a bag of Hershey's Chocolate Kisses while I got her something geared more towards a "healthy" lifestyle. In fact, I would say that I was the one who got her the nicer gift. She was just looking to fatten me up even further while I, her loyal, kind and loving friend was looking out for her health. So before you answer that question, people, be sure to consider all the facts. And if you chose to go with Susan's side, beware! I'll probably just delete your comments and tell her that everybody voted my way anyhow, 'cause that's just how I am. So don't even waste your time siding with her. Okie-dokie? Having said that, I'll go ahead and admit that I tried these same arguments on Susan and they didn't work with her either. (I've really got to work on not smirking when I'm trying to look sincere.) Now let's move on, shall we?
Hey,check out what Jayme sent me!

How sweet is this? I love that little notebook. I usually carry a small notebook around in my purse to write down those massively profound thoughts that flit through my head when I'm standing in line at Wal-Mart and now I can write them down in style. Jayme is just the sweetest person. I was surprised and touched by these gifts - I just can't tell you how much.
And how about this beautiful card from Debbi, who lives Down Under in the Land of Aus. Isn't this amazing? So many layers and so many little details. I love it and will keep it out year round in my little scrapbooking room (where all my treasures stay!).
Finally, (hey! WAKE UP! We're almost at the end!), Randey, Kaleb, Jacob and I went to see National Treasure II, the Book of Secrets. It was wonderful!! I have to go see it again because there is just so much in there that is interesting - it's well worth seeing twice. Or even 3 times. Maybe even 4. Yeah, people, I loved it that much. Go see it! What are you waiting on? Go! NOW! Let me know what you think. And don't forget to leave a comment telling me how great my gift to Susan was. (I need all the support I can get on this...there's no telling the revenge she's already plotting!)

The Reality of "After Christmas"

This is how I feel. I would say it's how I look, too, but let's face it...this cat actually looks much more fit than I do at this point. Our Christmas was wonderful and one of these days (SOON), I hope to catch my breath enough to actually blog about it! Hope all of you had the best Christmas ever!!!!

Think I'd Better Get Started on Doing This:

And while it may take me awhile to explain away the bad attitude I've cultivated most of this year, I did do one good deed for this holiday season. I made some fudge for Randey's office party. Thank goodness I don't like this stuff or it never would have made it out the door. lol Oh wait a minute...does the fact that I would have eaten it myself if I liked peanutbutter/chocolate fudge take away from the good deed of making it for his office party? Yeah...probably. Because I really would have eaten most of it and said to heck with his office party if this had been good, old fashioned Hershey's cocoa fudge. I do have my standards, you know. And bad attitude isn't always a bad thing anyway. Right, Santa?

Just Exactly Who's the Duck Here?

It's not like I'm looking to be ticked off, really. I mean, I'm truly trying to have a cheerful and optimistic view on life in general. This is the holiday season, after all. But sometimes, it feels like there are outside forces working against me. (And before you even think it, let me point out that it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you!). As some of you already know, my husband is a member of the United States Air Force Reserves, a fact that I am extremely proud of. As a member of the reserves, Randey does 2 days of military duty a month. These days are referred to as "UTA's" and are usually performed the first weekend of every month. On average, pay for UTA's is received approximately 10 days after completion. Well. Let's do some math, shall we? The first weekend of this month was the 1st and 2nd. Today is the 18th. That's 16 days, am I right? And the UTA pay has yet to arrive. Normally, this would cause me only a tiny bit of annoyance. But this month is the month where all our money traditionally races out of our personal coffers and into that of every store within a 50 miles radius (we do so like to support our local economy during the holiday season). However, since someone, who will probably remain forever nameless to me (they will if they're lucky, anyway!), failed to do their job properly, the UTA timesheets were not processed correctly and therefore, we gots no UTA mon-nay. This is making me unhappy. Waaaaaaaay unhappy. Upon inquiry, Randey was told that he would probably receive payment the 24th. Woo-hoo! Just in time for the last-minute run to the store for black olives and a roasting pan! So I ask you...just who is the Scrooge McDuck here? Me, for wanting that UTA pay when it was supposed to be here? or Uncle Sam, for dragging his butt and thinking payment on the day before Christmas is, while late, quite effort enough? I'm going with Uncle Sam on this one. 'Cause yeah, missing 2 lousy days worth of pay can make my Christmas experience just that much less cheery. Luckily, I'm willing to put my best foot forward and press on. (Okay, so technically, I'm willing to put my best credit card forward, but you get my point, right?)
Merry Christmas, Ya'll!