Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Say A Little Prayer
Without getting into details, I could really use some good vibes this week. Things aren't going well and anything good you can send my way would really be appreciated. I'll try to share more later, but I wanted to let you know that I might not be blogging for a little while.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
The Coolest Dream EVER!
I had a dream that Karen and I were on The Amazing Race! We were trying to get on a train to Chicago and we were the only team that was able to sweet talk the conductor into letting us take an earlier train than our ticket stated! It was awesome! When we got there we realized that we didn't have anywhere to sleep and all of the hotels were full because of some big football game. But that was okay, we slept in a 24 hour mall! Premonition or wishful thinking?
Friday, August 25, 2006
A Story About the Bathroom that's "Oh So True"!
I got this as a forward and it made me smile. I'm sure all you ladies will enjoy it as well.
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter.
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a firehose that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being drag ged in too. At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. ( Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door.
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter.
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a firehose that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being drag ged in too. At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. ( Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
My First Day of School
Well, today was the first day with kids. It was only a half day so that made it go by really fast, but I have a feeling it's going to go by that fast on full days too, at least at first. Many of the kids that I have this year seem very interested in Language Arts (for once!) and many seemed organized and ready to go. A drastic change from last year's kids already. I only had three kids not bring their required school supplies to Homeroom.
I only had to yell at one kid, and I have the feeling we won't be very good friends, but he'll survive. =)
Nothing really exciting happened. I sweated a lot. We had a meeting about Tourettte's and the video we watched was very well done, and very sad. We have a 5th grader in the building this year that has it.
So I'm back into a routine and I'll make sure to share more exciting days when I have them.
I only had to yell at one kid, and I have the feeling we won't be very good friends, but he'll survive. =)
Nothing really exciting happened. I sweated a lot. We had a meeting about Tourettte's and the video we watched was very well done, and very sad. We have a 5th grader in the building this year that has it.
So I'm back into a routine and I'll make sure to share more exciting days when I have them.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Okay, so sitting with Uncle Kendall makes her look small......
Update on Concrete Man
So they did finally show up today. Early. Which pisses me off because they told me they weren't going to be here until 2:30. And then they didn't fix what they were supposed to before staining. So when I called the owner he suddenly told me he couldn't fix it. I said, "No, you told my husband you could fix it, now fix it." Then he tried to tell me it would be a darker patch of concrete. I told him I didn't care. So he caved and said he'd call the crew and tell them to get some patch stuff....oh yeah, they weren't here when I got here, they had "Gone to the store to get rollers." It's now 4PM, they haven't been here since I got home at 2:30.
What I'll be interested to see is if they patch it and then restain it, because they're going to have to wait for the new concrete to dry. I have a feeling they'll be coming back...again. I still owe this guy half of his money...and he didn't even know how much I owe him. He tried to up the price of the job by $300 when he talked to Kendall. Good thing I kept the paper he wrote the estimate on. Then he didn't remember I'd already paid him half and tried to ask us for the full amount again. I reminded him that he already cashed our check. What a retard.
Oh yeah, and he's not getting paid until we're satisfied...or maybe I'll wait an extra three weeks. He made us wait that long over his initial time projection. Oh yeah, and I think he's going to have to call me for the check. It's only fair since I had to call him to get him to even come out again....
What I'll be interested to see is if they patch it and then restain it, because they're going to have to wait for the new concrete to dry. I have a feeling they'll be coming back...again. I still owe this guy half of his money...and he didn't even know how much I owe him. He tried to up the price of the job by $300 when he talked to Kendall. Good thing I kept the paper he wrote the estimate on. Then he didn't remember I'd already paid him half and tried to ask us for the full amount again. I reminded him that he already cashed our check. What a retard.
Oh yeah, and he's not getting paid until we're satisfied...or maybe I'll wait an extra three weeks. He made us wait that long over his initial time projection. Oh yeah, and I think he's going to have to call me for the check. It's only fair since I had to call him to get him to even come out again....
Friday, August 18, 2006
Don't EVER use this concrete guy
Okay, so while I'm still all riled up I figured I'd write this nasty-gram right now. Don't EVER use StampIt! concrete and patio. They suck. Not only did they get concrete all over our fountain and Japanese maple, they also have to repair part of what they poured. On top of that, they poured our patio over 4 weeks ago. They were supposed to be back 2 weeks ago to stain and seal it. We NEVER heard from them. I finally called the guy last week and he didn't get back to me until I called him again this Wednesday.
He was supposed to show up today to finish the job and just called Kendall to tell him he probably isn't coming today. And there is no time left for him to come without Kendall or I having to take a day off of work! So who knows if it will ever get done.
It's just the most unprofessional person we've worked with on home improvement. This is even worse than the roofers that damaged our landscaping, at least they paid for that damage. ARGHHHHH!!!!!!!
He was supposed to show up today to finish the job and just called Kendall to tell him he probably isn't coming today. And there is no time left for him to come without Kendall or I having to take a day off of work! So who knows if it will ever get done.
It's just the most unprofessional person we've worked with on home improvement. This is even worse than the roofers that damaged our landscaping, at least they paid for that damage. ARGHHHHH!!!!!!!
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